She was the last one I spoke to properly. Which I think was not an accident.

The butler moves through Narcissus the way water moves through a system — along the paths of least resistance, present everywhere, noticed nowhere.

We spoke in the pantry corridor on the last morning. She was preparing the tray. One cup, one saucer, one folded napkin. The cup positioned so that when it was set before the heiress, she would see the water first and the cup second. The sequence the heiress preferred without ever having said so.

I asked her how she knew.

“I watch,” she said.

I asked her what she saw when she watched Narcissus.

“I see a serious vessel,” she said. “The systems are real. The engineer is serious. The captain is serious.”

She looked at the porthole.

“And the vessel moves through the water, and the water doesn’t know the difference.”

The tray was level. It is always level.

Then the bell rang and she went.