Dax's office in Parliament was more of an entire department than the room Chris expected. The main office was considered the king's private room, where people like Sahir, Killian, and Chris could enter. The rest would have hearings with the king in different conference rooms.
In the private office, papers lay neatly arranged on the desk. The mantle of gold and royal embroidery rested across the back of a chair. The city hummed faintly through thick windows. Beyond the door, people were already moving on to the next logistical stage of the day.
Inside, nothing moved.
Chris stood near the desk. Dax stood a few steps away, his back half-turned like he had meant to walk, stopped midway, and never quite remembered how to finish the motion.
"Are you really all right with it?" Dax asked at last.
Chris blinked at him. "With what?"
Dax gave him a look that made the question unnecessary.
