Arthur arrived at the pavilion before the morning light had fully settled.
He climbed the stairs slowly. Not because he was tired. Because there was no rush. The reports would wait. The convoys would run. The system did not need him to start it.
He entered the room and stood at the table.
The reports from yesterday were still stacked where they had left them. He moved them to the side. Then he moved them back. He adjusted the quill holder. He checked the window latch—closed, as it had been when he checked it yesterday.
He pulled out his chair. Did not sit.
Instead, he walked to the schedule board. The morning convoy slots were listed in clean handwriting. He had approved them yesterday. He read them again anyway.
Then he heard footsteps on the stairs.
He turned toward the door.
---
Vivian entered carrying a ledger.
