"There’s a place called the Lower Conservatory," Cynthia said, her voice kept low between the clatter of plates and the loose noise of students eating around them. "There are several exhibits there. While I was doing one of the activities Director Selara assigned me, I overheard two workers talking about it."

Trafalgar did not answer immediately.

Cynthia continued, probably taking his quiet as permission. "I checked the map afterward because the name caught my attention. It’s close to another place. The Glass Atrium." Her finger traced the edge of her folded assignment paper. "That place interested you last time, didn’t it?"

Trafalgar stayed quiet.

’She’s been paying that much attention lately?’

It was strange, having someone notice the small things so consistently. Not unpleasant, exactly. Strange. Usually, that level of attention came from people with knives hidden somewhere, political motives, or the irritating habit of calling themselves friends right before causing trouble. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Cynthia, at least, did not fit into the first two categories.

The information itself was useful. Lower Conservatory. Near the Glass Atrium. Close enough that the two places might share staff routes, storage access, or lower-level infrastructure. If Aurevane wanted to hide something under polished glass and expensive manners, a conservatory attached to the Atrium made an ugly amount of sense.

"Oh," Trafalgar said at last. "I didn’t know about that. There might be something interesting in that conservatory."

Cynthia leaned back slightly, watching his face with obvious satisfaction at having caught his interest. "I thought so. I heard those men while I was checking a stall about arrowheads, coating agents, and different kinds of ammunition. They had samples there, including some arrows that work a little like Barth’s [Sleep] skill."

"That could be useful in the right situation," Trafalgar said. "Having a non-lethal option that doesn’t depend on someone else’s mana is never bad."

"Exactly. I was thinking the same thing. The seller claimed the coating was made with pollen from a plant cultivated in the Lower Conservatory. Something called moon-drowse lilies." Cynthia tapped the paper again. "According to the map, the Conservatory hosts botanical and alchemical displays in the morning. Rare plants, reagent cultivation, venom refinement, medicinal roots, things like that. It’s not fully restricted, but parts of it are staff-only."

"I imagined it."

"Apparently the public section is for students and guests, while the inner cultivation beds are only for licensed alchemists, botanists, and event workers. One of the men said a few sealed cases were sent there from the Atrium side entrance this morning."

Trafalgar’s fingers paused around the bread.

That was better than interesting.

"Sealed cases?"

"Yes. I didn’t see them myself, but the workers were arguing because the delivery route had been changed at the last minute. One of them complained that the Lower Conservatory wasn’t built to receive Atrium cargo through the public side, and the other told him to stop whining because the western staff passage was busy."

Trafalgar let the words arrange themselves.

Atrium cargo. Lower Conservatory. Western staff passage.

Caelum had entered through the western technical side of the Glass Atrium. Cynthia had stumbled onto a route connected to the same direction without knowing it. Either coincidence was working very hard today, or Aurevane’s secrecy had started leaking through its own logistics.

"What exactly is your task there?" Trafalgar asked.

Cynthia slid the assignment paper closer to him. "I have to catalogue three alchemical materials used for non-lethal projectile effects. Sleep, paralysis, and binding. The Lower Conservatory has a morning section on cultivated reagents, so I can complete most of it there. That’s why I thought we could go tomorrow."

"We?"

She held his attention with more confidence than before. "Yes. You’re looking for someone, and I have a real task there. If we go together, it won’t look strange. We can walk around, ask normal questions, and you can see whether anything connects to whatever you’re investigating."

Trafalgar lowered his attention to the paper. It was actually a proper assignment. No alchemical breakfast nor any nonsense about window pressure etiquette. Cynthia had received something useful.

Unfair.

"That’s not a bad idea."

"I know."

"Try not to sound so proud."

"I earned it." She folded the paper back toward herself. "The Conservatory is open in the mornings, so we could go after breakfast. I need to collect notes anyway, and you can pretend to help. Lucky you." The last two words came out under her breath, but not quietly enough.

Trafalgar turned his head toward her. "I heard that."

Cynthia’s mouth curved. "You were meant to."

"I’m not sure I’d call it luck. Personally, I’d rather be lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and doing absolutely nothing."

"Hm." She rested her chin lightly on one hand, her tone turning far too amused. "Somehow, I don’t believe you."

"That’s because people keep mistaking my suffering for ambition."

"You walked into this city and immediately started investigating a hidden person with Director Selara. That sounds like ambition."

"That sounds like being dragged into work by an unstable alchemist."

"She’s your director."

"That doesn’t disprove anything."

Cynthia laughed quietly, careful not to draw attention from nearby students. Around them, the dining hall continued with its harmless noise. Plates scraped. Someone complained about an assignment involving architectural sketches. Another student argued that Aurevane bread tasted better because the city was rich enough to bully wheat into behaving.

Trafalgar almost wished the day could stay that simple.

Cynthia’s expression softened slightly. "I’m serious, though. I won’t push into whatever you and Director Selara are doing, but if my assignment can help, I want to help. Even if it’s only a little."

Trafalgar studied her for a breath, weighing the answer. He had told her enough already. Too much, perhaps. But Cynthia had not chased the secret for the sake of being included. She had found something, thought about it, and brought it to him without making noise.

That deserved a better response than another evasion.

"Then tomorrow, we’ll go to the Lower Conservatory," he said. "But if I tell you to leave, you leave. No argument."

Cynthia’s fingers tightened once around the edge of her paper, but she nodded. "Fine. I’ll trust your judgment."

He finished the rest of his meal while his mind moved through the pieces again. Selara had Matteo’s warning. Caelum had entered the Atrium. Cynthia had found a public route touching something below. The city had not given them proof yet, but it had begun offering edges, and edges could be pulled.

Across the dining hall, Selara appeared near the entrance, speaking with one of the Academy staff. Her face had returned to the director’s mask, but Trafalgar could see the impatience under it from here. She wanted progress. Cynthia had just handed him something close enough to progress to be dangerous.