No messenger came. No wax-sealed letter. No scroll with a crest.
But Bovras Bloodworth did, stepping through the threshold of their quiet chamber at the Grand Duke's estate with damp shoulders and a silence that didn't need escort.
Most of the time, Arthur, as well as Beli and Seisyll preferred to spend time in luxury rather than hidden like rats.
Arthur rose from his seat near the Whisperer, but Bovras held up one gloved hand.
"You'll have your Shell." The Float Admiral said.
He didn't raise his voice, didn't repeat himself. His presence alone told them it was final.
"I've been assigned to keep the waters still." Bovras added. "That means keeping peace at bay. Whatever floats near Neramor stays under your seal and mine. No patrols. No interlopers. No council eyes. If something leaks, it leaks into us."
Arthur blinked once. That was all he gave himself.
Bovras turned to go, but hesitated. "It's yours. Don't make me regret it."
Then he left, boots silent on polished stone.
