The arbitration hall was on Ironwake's third residential deck, a long room with low iron beams and a table that had been on the ship since before Voss's time, worn smooth by generations of exactly this kind of meeting. No decorative elements. No attempt at grandeur. The windows on the port side showed open water and the distant silhouette of Driftholm on the horizon, which Voss had always found a useful reminder for people who needed reminding that there were other ship cities and other arrangements possible and the one they currently had with Ironwake was not inevitable.
His court was already assembled when he entered. Twelve people arranged along the walls, a mix of his senior lieutenants and the advisers who handled the specific logistics of running a city of twenty thousand: the suppl
