Aldric Voss had attended one hundred and forty Concord sessions over the course of his career.
By the fortieth, he had learned the most valuable lesson politics could teach.
Never be the first person to speak.
The first voice framed the argument.
The second exposed its weaknesses.
The third usually won.
So Aldric settled comfortably into his chair, placed his three bronze voting tokens in a neat stack before him, and waited.
He did not have to wait long.
"The Concord has a transparency problem."
Senne Dalkara rose from her seat with practiced confidence, smoothing the front of her dark coat before addressing the chamber. She had rehearsed this speech.
Aldric could always tell.
She never wasted a movement when she'd prepared in advance.
Around the curved oak table sat the nine Magnates whose trade volume had earned them seats on the Concord this year. Beneath the chamber, one floor below, the customs ledgers of Calderport filled an entire archive.
