The escort was supposed to be neutral.
That was the word the council used. Neutral.
Not guards. Not jailers. Observers.
Aiden learned quickly what that really meant.
They didn't walk beside him so much as orbit him—two ahead, two behind, rotating shifts, faces disciplined into something that pretended not to be fear. No names were offered. No insignias beyond the city seal. The rules were followed precisely, which only made everything feel tighter.
They weren't cruel.
That made it worse.
Cruelty would have been easier to recognize. Something to resist. Something to name.
Instead, the escorts were uncertain. And uncertainty, Aiden was learning, was dangerous.
---
The crack didn't come from Varros.
It didn't come from the Church.
It came from paperwork.
A single document arrived at dawn, sealed and counter-sealed, stamped with overlapping authorities that technically outranked the Duchess' provisional order without directly contradicting it.
Escort Rotation Adjustment.
Authorization: Civic Oversight Subcommittee.
Seris read it twice, then a third time, jaw tightening.
"They split command," she said quietly. "The escort no longer answers directly to Aureline. They answer to a committee."
Liora frowned. "That's… legal?"
Seris exhaled. "It's adjacent to legal."
Aiden looked up. "What does that mean for us?"
"It means," Seris said carefully, "your protection is now administered by people who don't have to look you in the eye."
---
The route changed without announcement.
Not abruptly—just a subtle redirection through a narrower street, one with fewer windows and worse sightlines. The escort leader, a man with tired eyes and rigid posture, kept his gaze forward.
"This isn't our usual path," Aiden said.
The leader didn't answer.
Another escort spoke instead. "Temporary obstruction."
Seris slowed. "We're not scheduled for detours."
"Orders changed."
"From whom?"
Silence.
That was when Inkaris spoke.
"From a subcommittee with provisional authority but no enforcement mandate," he said calmly.
Every escort turned toward him.
"You're not part of this detail," one said sharply.
Inkaris nodded. "Correct. I am, however, familiar with Civic Charter Article Seven, Section Twelve."
The leader frowned. "That section governs inter-departmental jurisdiction."
"Yes," Inkaris agreed. "And specifically prohibits redirection of protected persons into unsupervised transit corridors without primary authority concurrence."
The escorts exchanged glances.
Seris' eyes flicked to Inkaris—sharp, questioning.
The leader hesitated. "That's… not how it was explained."
"Of course not," Inkaris replied mildly. "If it had been explained correctly, you would have refused."
His tone wasn't threatening.
It was instructional.
"You are operating under a temporary escort mandate," Inkaris continued. "Temporary mandates cannot override standing protections unless ratified by the issuing authority. In this case, the Duchess."
The leader swallowed. "The subcommittee said—"
"The subcommittee does not outrank the sovereign," Inkaris said, unblinking. "It exploits ambiguity. That is not the same thing."
Aiden watched, heart pounding—not because of power, but because of clarity.
"This route," Inkaris went on, "terminates three blocks ahead in a jurisdictional gray zone. If you proceed, responsibility transfers to whoever issued the redirection."
The leader stiffened. "That's not in the briefing."
"No," Inkaris said softly. "It isn't."
Silence stretched.
"If you continue," Inkaris finished, "and something happens, you will be blamed for exceeding authority. If you refuse, you will be reprimanded. Mildly."
The leader looked down at his hands.
"And if we return to the approved route?" he asked quietly.
Inkaris did not smile.
"Then you will have fulfilled your duty."
---
The escorts stood there for several long seconds.
Then the leader exhaled sharply. "Return to route."
Relief washed through Aiden so fast it left him lightheaded.
No miracle.
No power.
Just rules, finally spoken aloud.
---
They moved again, but the air was different now.
Not safer—exposed.
That night, Seris slammed a report onto the table. "That wasn't protection," she said. "That was a probe. They wanted to see if the escort could be bent."
Liora hugged herself. "And it almost was."
Aiden stared at the floor. "If they try again…"
Inkaris folded his hands. "They will."
Seris turned on him. "You knew."
"I suspected," Inkaris replied evenly. "Law behaves like water. It flows toward weakness."
Aiden looked up. "Why didn't you stop it earlier?"
Inkaris met his gaze. "Because then they would have learned the wrong lesson."
Silence fell.
"What lesson did they learn?" Aiden asked.
"That you are protected," Inkaris said. "But not invulnerable."
Seris' voice was quiet. "And that someone is watching the rules closely."
Inkaris inclined his head.
---
Above the city, unseen, Caelum laughed softly.
"Oh, that was delicious," he murmured. "No magic at all."
His gaze lingered on Inkaris with renewed interest.
"A demon who wins with footnotes," Caelum said fondly. "How rare."
---
The escort system remained intact.
Officially.
Unofficially, everyone involved understood something had changed.
The rules had been spoken out loud.
And once law is named—
It can no longer pretend it didn't know.
Somewhere, Varros read the incident report and smiled thinly.
Not failure.
Adjustment.
Next time, he would write the rules himself.
And next time—
Knowledge alone might not be enough.
---