These were not contradictions.
They were the full thing.
She had been told she was inconveniently both.
She thought that was probably correct.
She thought she could live with that.
.
.
.
The name at the top of the chain was Lord Cassin Veth.
Not Solt. Not Harwick. Not any of the middle names she had been following through the documentation for two weeks, the careful paper trail of payments and approvals and conveniently timed garrison rotations. Those were the instruments. Lord Cassin Veth was the hand that held them.
She had known it was going to be a name she recognized.
It always was.
