Hajin locked Didi's letter inside its sleeve, then resumed the host feed and both recovery flows beside the command table. Four authorization sheets waited beneath the window while Marrick opened his ink horn and Lana slid her stamp within reach.
"Right, listen up, nobody sits in my chair while I'm gone," he announced, slapping the headings straight, "four separate duties, dates and limits, and anyone who borrows my name to make law eats my fist."
'Four pages of rules before breakfast, and not one of them lets me punch anybody.'
Marrick drew the civil page toward him and kept the other three pinned beneath their separate heading marks.
"Existing kitchens, wages and clinic supplies," he read, tracing the first entry, "I can keep them running without pretending your absence turns me into a legislature."
"Good, you'd look awful in a crown anyway."
Hajin checked the road budgets and the Flint audit reserves, then read the restrictions printed beneath them.
