The submission she had come to the capital to complete was in process. The documentation was filed. The succession framework was with the administrative director. She had expected to be done in a week — submit, hand over, leave, return to Varen or wherever the next thing was.
She looked at the working list.
At what she had just added.
At item after item after item.
The system, on her shoulder, said nothing.
Which was its version of 'I know. I'm not going to tell you I told you so.'
"The emperor," she said. "My brother." She looked at the table. "I need to understand what he actually is. Not what the noble factions need him to be. What he actually is underneath that."
"Why," Mira said. Practically. Not unkindly.
"Because if he's salvageable, the path forward is different than if he isn't," she said. "And right now I don't know which he is because I never looked closely enough."
"You've been avoiding looking closely," the system said.
Out loud.
