The last hold was not a throne.
Severin stood at the central return with the actual regional states before him. Ashford had closed its shared connection, preserved local essential service and rejoined through a fresh exchange. The garden’s delayed acknowledgment had arrived by its valid slower path. White Crown and Falling Sea remained within their accepted amounts.
Limited evidence.
Together, enough to describe a working transition whose next step did not require a bound cultivator in the living interface.
The old seat remained empty.
The dark deck was isolated in its mount. Felix sat clear of the working lane, tired and listening to the local report. He had retained his body and cultivation; he was not carrying the Chain through some hidden heroic channel while everyone admired the machinery.
Severin looked at the reviewed final position.
He had done harder physical work than this.
