By the time the first block of meetings broke for the private interval before dinner, everything was going according to plan.
That, in Chris's opinion, was deeply unfortunate.
It was not that anything had gone wrong.
Quite the opposite. The timing had worked out. The media sequence had landed perfectly. The joint appearances had produced exactly the kind of images the summit team wanted: heirs in frame together, old powers visibly present but no longer central, Dax looking radiant with state-sanctioned menace, and Caelan maintaining his dignity with the increasingly brittle grace of a man forced to sit through his own elegant displacement.
It was working.
That was the problem.
Because when Dax's plans worked, he became unbearable.
Chris knew this from long experience.
