Rule 28 of the Institute’s charter was unwritten. Everyone knew it, but no one spoke it aloud: "A guest who does not break is not a guest at all."

"Article 544 – Ownership is the right to enjoy and dispose of things..."

Rule 29 was already being written.

The Archivist stepped back. For the first time, something like unease flickered across his face.

Franck sat. He had been here for six weeks. His French arrogance had curdled into a dull, persistent ache behind his eyes.

And then he saw her. The princess. Not as she was – beautiful, distant, tragic – but as she was . A woman who had watched him walk into this Institute and said nothing. A woman whose husband had signed the admission papers while she stood beside him, adjusting her pearl necklace.