The following morning in the palace was quiet.
Elias sat at his desk in the solar, the light of the winter sun bleeding across the desk.
He thought back to what Severin had done the day before and made his decision.
To an outside observer, the Co-Sovereign looked defeated, or perhaps simply exhausted by everything happening around him.
He went to the morning Council session with the same practiced grace, the silver-and-emerald diadem resting on his brow as usual.
But something had shifted beneath the surface.
During the review of the Oakhaven District's local trade permits, the Minister of Finance made a minor, sloppy error regarding the excise tax on medicinal salts—a three-percent discrepancy that Elias would usually have caught and corrected within seconds.
He saw it. He tracked the math in his mind, saw the ripple effect it would have on the local apothecaries, and then… he let it pass.
