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Jessa spoke first. “I blamed her for the drone because blaming a person is easier than fighting a system. I still believe the risk is real. I vote to keep her because she has treated our children, because she submitted to law, and because throwing her out would teach the empire that fear is enough to choose our sacrifices.” Lina followed. “I vote to keep her only if claim law is rewritten before the next moon.”

Sera voted yes because the band data might save implanted prisoners. Keth voted yes because expulsion would not stop orbital observation. Tavi voted yes and demanded access to the broken mesh when Kesta eventually removed it.

Three families voted no, and no one mocked their reasons. Kesta stood before them all and said, “If evidence changes, you vote again.” The promise mattered because fear had been allowed into the record instead of being punished out of it.

Dreven remained behind the civilian line. He did not speak until Pela asked whether he would accept the result if the camp voted to send Kesta away.

“I would escort her to safety,” he said. “I would not call the result just. I would obey it.”

The final count kept Kesta in Ash Camp by four votes. It was not a romantic declaration. It was better. It was a community accepting cost with its eyes open. That night, Kesta found Dreven alone on the wall walk.

“You did not influence the guards?” she asked.

“No.”

“You could have.”

“Yes.”

She leaned beside him, close enough for their arms to touch. “I am glad you did not.” His tail moved behind her, stopping before it curled around her waist. “May I?” Kesta looked down at the dark scaled length. “Around my ankle. Loosely.” The tip wrapped once, warm and careful.

The intimacy was stranger and more affecting than a hand at her back. She felt every restrained movement, every instinct translated into a question. Kesta turned toward him. “Kiss me again.” His eyes flared silver. “The pulse—”

“Is over. The band is quiet. I am asking.”

He bent slowly. The second kiss was not the shocked discovery of quarantine. It was deliberate. Kesta opened her mouth under his and felt the blunt edge of one fang, the heat of his breath, the tail tightening by a fraction around her ankle. She touched the base of his horn. Dreven made a sound that vibrated through her body. He lifted his head first, breathing hard.

“Why stop?” she asked.

“Because I want to carry you to my quarters, remove everything between us, and learn whether your pulse changes when my tail—” He broke off, jaw rigid. “And because wanting is not yet the same as deciding.”

Kesta’s body protested the distinction. Her mind honored it.

“Later,” she said.

“If you choose.”

The route beacon activated before either could say more, projecting Elara’s bruised face into the dark. Alive, bruised, and staring directly into the recording lens.

Pela posted the vote count beside the ration board, including the dissenting reasons. No names were hidden unless the speaker requested it. Children stopped to read the marks even when they could not understand every word. Ash Camp had always preserved battle tallies; now it preserved disagreement. Kesta realized that this might be the first durable change she had made on Kharon-Veil. Medical victories could be lost to the next injury. A public record of lawful dissent taught the camp that belonging did not require silence. Dreven stood beside the slate for a long time, reading the votes against him without tearing it down.

Her message contained only seven words.

“Kesta, do not let them complete the pair.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The Locked Door

Dreven waited until Kesta had finished counting the forty-three names. Then he took the slate from her hand, gently and without anger, which almost made it worse.

The survivors from Hallow Camp had been transferred beneath the outer ruins and scheduled for orbital ascent in less than six hours. Every person in the chamber understood what that meant. Once the prisoners reached an imperial ship, Ash Camp would lose them beyond any rescue the planet could mount.

Kesta had already begun dividing the remaining time into medical necessities, route hazards, and acceptable losses when Dreven said, “You are returning to Ash Camp.” She looked up. “We are all returning to Ash Camp.”

“You are returning under guard. You will remain inside the inner ring until the pulse network is disabled.”

For a moment the chamber went silent except for the cooling mineral vein. Kesta thought she had misunderstood him. “You are confining me.”