Arthur arrived at the pavilion earlier than usual.
The morning light was still thin, filtering through the windows in pale strips. The yard below was quiet—only a few workers moving between the warehouses, lanterns still lit at the eastern gate.
He climbed the stairs and found everything already in order.
Schedules posted on the board. Reports stacked neatly on the table. No urgent messages. No pending issues. Nothing that required his attention before breakfast.
He paused at the top of the stairs.
His eyes went to the second chair.
Empty.
He didn't sit immediately. Instead, he moved to the table and adjusted the stack of papers. The edges were already aligned. He adjusted them anyway. Then he straightened a quill that was already straight. Then he checked the window latch. It was closed.
He sat in his usual chair.
The room felt larger than usual.
