She said nothing.
He looked at her.
"You're not going to respond to that," he said.
"I'm a merchant," she said. "I don't have opinions about the composition of your advisory council."
"Everyone has opinions," he said.
"I have opinions about the eastern coastal infrastructure," she said. "I keep the rest to myself."
He smiled.
It was — she noticed this despite herself — a genuine smile. The kind that reached the eyes and did something unexpected to the face, which in his case lost the careful appropriate of her memory and became something warmer and slightly self-deprecating.
"Practical," he said.
"Merchant," she said.
He laughed.
The same laugh she had watched from across the room — easy, real.
Something in her assessment moved.
Not resolved. Just shifted.
"The logistics documentation," he said. "The coastal network. There are gaps in it."
