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"You look concerned."

"I am concerned."

"A reasonable reaction."

After handing the documents to a passing servant, he gestured for her to follow.

"Come."

Eira narrowed her eyes before asking where they were going.

"Where?"

"The council chamber."

The answer immediately drained much of her enthusiasm.

"I thought we were exploring the city."

"We are," Leander replied as he continued walking. "You simply need to understand why it exists first."

That sounded suspiciously like a lesson, and although Eira briefly considered refusing, curiosity had become an increasingly persistent problem since arriving in Silverwake, so she followed him anyway.

The council chamber occupied a large wing overlooking the harbor, and to Eira's surprise it looked nothing like a throne room. There was no raised platform, no throne, and no elaborate display of authority. Instead, a large circular table dominated the center of the room, while maps covered the walls and documents occupied nearly every available surface.

Several people were already present, and they were arguing loudly.

"No."

"The eastern pier cannot handle another season."

"It handled the last one."

"Barely."

"That is still handling it."

"It is not."

"It literally is."

Before the argument could continue, a sharp voice cut through the room.

"Then perhaps we should stop testing whether the pier or your skull cracks first."

The chamber fell silent for half a heartbeat.

A broad-shouldered woman leaned back in her chair near the harbor maps. Her sun-darkened skin, weathered features, and heavy navy coat marked her as someone who spent far more time at sea than behind a desk, and one boot rested casually on an empty chair beside her.

Neither of the men attempted to continue arguing.

"Good," she said. "Now either discuss repairs or start placing bets. At least one of those would be productive."

Several people rolled their eyes while one man muttered something under his breath.

Without even looking at him, the woman pointed in his direction.

"Louder."


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