Dax found Arion alone later that evening.
The Sahan delegation had finished the formal portion of the visit hours earlier, and most of the northern wing had gone quiet after dinner, leaving only security moving through the outer corridors and the muted hum of climate systems behind the old palace walls.
Arion had expected the conversation.
Dax had watched him too carefully that afternoon for it to be anything else.
They met in one of Otto's private studies overlooking the eastern gardens, a smaller room furnished in dark wood and worn leather rather than anything intended for diplomacy. The windows had been left cracked despite the cool spring night, allowing damp air and the scent of flowering trees to move through the room.
Dax closed the door behind himself.
He had changed out of the formal coat he wore earlier and now stood in black trousers and a simple dark shirt, silver visible at his temples beneath the warm lamplight.
Arion remained near the window.
