Zazu's question lingered in the chamber, soft but defiant, like steam curling upward against the cold weight of stone.
"Would you care for a cup?"
The Adjudicator of Law, Valerius, looked at the offered tea as though Zazu had placed a vial of molten poison beneath his nose. His eye twitched violently, his mouth pressed into a bloodless line of pure, law-bound fury. The Adjudicator of Procedure, Scribonia, was already moving, her quill scratching one last, decisive line beneath the heading 'Proposed Amendment 77-C'. And the Adjudicator of Heart, Lyra, simply watched Zazu with her sad, unfathomable eyes. For the barest heartbeat, something flickered there—something that might have been pity, or perhaps respect—but it passed too quickly to name.
It was Scribonia who finally shattered the silence. With a flick of her finger, the teacup vanished from before Valerius as neatly as if it had never existed. The rejection was clear, final, and bureaucratically merciless.
