"Skip the prayer." Caius's voice cuts across the chamber. Several Faith delegates stiffen.
Seth's mouth thins. "The protocols of this chamber—"
"Are taking too long. We all know why we're here. Get to it."
A murmur ripples through the room. Faith offended, War impatient, Coin still and waiting. Discord hasn't moved.
Seth recovers. "Very well. House Coin has called this session to address recent... disturbances in the districts. Matters of accountability and territorial violations."
Merit Daiven rises.
"Thank you, High Procurist." His voice is polished. Reasonable. The kind of polished that costs money. "The Houses have operated under the Concord's guidance for centuries. We have maintained peace through mutual respect and clearly defined boundaries."
Renan shifts beside Koshin.
"Recent events have called that peace into question." Daiven's gaze sweeps the room, pausing briefly on our section. On me. "Discord's operations have expanded beyond their traditional scope. Matters that were once handled through proper channels are now being addressed... unilaterally."
He means me. He means Koshin standing up at the last Concord and dismantling their trade agreements.
"The House of Coin seeks clarity," Daiven continues. "We seek assurance that the boundaries established by the Concord will be respected. That no House will take actions that destabilize the order we have all worked to maintain."
The man who backhanded me in front of a room full of witnesses is talking about respect. I could laugh.
Faith's procurist nods. "The Concord exists precisely to prevent such instability. House Faith supports a return to established protocols. Clear boundaries. Proper oversight."
This is the part where everyone agrees with each other using different words. They'll talk in circles for an hour, say nothing of substance, and call it diplomacy. I've watched enough merchant negotiations to know the dance. Same steps, fancier shoes.
War isn't having it.
"Coin's been moving shipments through Faith's territory for months." Caius leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Discord exposed that at the last session. So when you talk about 'proper channels' and 'clear boundaries,' you mean the ones you've been violating?"
Daiven's expression doesn't change. "Those accusations remain unsubstantiated—"
"I have the ledgers." Koshin's voice is flat. The room goes still. "I can have copies made for everyone if you'd like. Faith's twelve-percent cut is itemized on page forty-three."
Seth's face goes tight. Several Faith delegates exchange glances.
"The matter at hand," Seth says carefully, "is not previous disputes. It is the current state of relations between the Houses and how we move forward."
"Forward." Caius laughs—short, harsh. "You want to talk about moving forward while pretending the last six months didn't happen? Fine. Let's talk about the territorial disputes in my region. Two of which ended with Coin's people dead on War's ground."
"Those incidents—"
"Were self-defense. Your collectors crossed into my territory without permission. What did you think would happen?"
The chamber erupts. Not shouting—these are gods, they don't shout—but the careful composure is slipping. Accusations fly back and forth.
I sit and wait. That's all I can do here—read the room while being very aware that the room is reading me back.
Koshin hasn't moved. He's tracking Coin and Faith, occasionally War. His hand rests on his thigh, fingers loose. Relaxed.
Too relaxed.
I know that posture. I've seen it on men who are about to hit someone.
The arguments continue. Faith tries to moderate, War refuses to back down, Coin maintains that measured reasonable tone while saying nothing. Discord stays quiet. Waiting.
An hour passes. Maybe two. My back aches from the marble seat. My throat is dry. The incense is giving me a headache.
