Keeper of the Vessel

There is a chair in the observatory that does not belong to anyone for long.
It is heavier than the others. Older.
Its position shifts subtly throughout the year — never dragged, never adjusted by staff — simply found facing a different direction when the room is opened in the morning.
Those who notice it tend not to ask why.

On the day in question, the chair had turned slightly toward the open dome, as though something beyond had caught its attention first.
She arrived without announcement and took the seat.