Mira’s POV
The council chamber empties slowly after every session, the way water drains when you've only pulled the plug halfway, and I've learned over three years exactly how long to linger in the doorway before the right person notices I'm still there.
Tonight it's Elder Voskin, arthritic and vain about it, gathering his papers with more effort than the task requires. I fall into step beside him without seeming to have planned it.
"Long session," I say.
"Longer than it needed to be." He doesn't look up from his papers. "Caelum spent an hour arguing border patrol allocations that should have taken ten minutes."
"He's distracted," I say, and let the word sit there, undefended, like I haven't chosen it carefully.
Voskin glances at me sideways. "Distracted."
"I only mean he hasn't be
