The Council Chamber was circular, with high vaulted ceilings that made every sound echo. Twelve seats arranged in a semicircle, each one occupied by a member of the Historical Preservation Society's governing body. Behind them, stone walls lined with portraits of previous Directors—stern faces watching over proceedings with the weight of accumulated history.
Edmund Erwell sat at the center position, the Director's chair. To his right and left, the eleven other councilors. Some Marron recognized from her first hearing four months ago: Lady Mirabelle Harrow, who recorded everything in precise script. Sir Caldus Grieve, whose curiosity had seemed genuine even while voting for restrictions. Master Renfield, the ancient artifact specialist who'd voted against her initially but had been impressed by the evaluation.
