The invitation had a chair drawn beside my name. It was a good chair. Cushioned, close to a window, and far from the little tables where everyone else had been placed. I could understand the appeal before reading a word. Ren set it beside breakfast.
"The messenger asked for an answer this morning."
"Did he say why?"
"So they can arrange the chairs."
I looked at the drawing again. Mine appeared to have been arranged already. The meeting concerned shared practice periods, study rooms, and the growing number of informal challenges after public matches. Lucien's name stood among the organizers. That explained the good paper and the assumption that I would appreciate being given a place.
I finished breakfast with my left hand and went to see what the chair cost. The lounge overlooked one of the smaller bridges. Students crossed below in groups, coats moving in the wind. Inside, the windows were shut and somebody had brought tea that didn't taste like the bottom of a storage jar.
