"Nothing about facing the Council is simple." His hand twitches like he wants to touch me but doesn't. "But you're ready. You're going to be brilliant."
Thorne interrupts before I can respond. "Vehicles are ready. We should leave now to arrive early. Helena wants time to brief you on last-minute changes to Council composition."
"Changes?" I frown. "What changes?"
"Councilor Greyson called in sick this morning. Convenient timing." Thorne's expression is grim. "Which means Marcus Thorne lost his puppet vote. It's now six traditionalists including him, five reformists, and Helena. Still in our favor, but the margin is tighter."
Great. More complications.
The drive to Council headquarters takes two hours. The building is imposing—ancient stone architecture designed to intimidate, set on n
