Eirwen entered through the evidence recess with her silverwood case held against her side. Twelve Shards remained closed around her shoulders while the Alder memory-root inside bent toward Ferra's divided cradle.
The royal recorders had not finished checking the treaty strip before the root's lean became visible. The empty First Prince's chair stood between Eirwen and the King, keeping the absence in every sightline.
"My Court claims a witness place, not control of this hearing, and I will begin with the evidence that brought me here." Eirwen's voice carried without effort to the back of the chamber.
Three living clasps opened slowly along the sealed silverwood case. A strip of white-gold bark rested in dark soil beneath a clear membrane, its grain cut by one deep wound.
White-gold sap had dried around the cut without losing its light. Smaller veins still leaned toward the separated socket, and Eirwen's fingers tightened when the root recognized the old geometry.
