The temporary meeting room of the Educational Consortium within the academy wasn't particularly large or impressive.
Polished white stone walls. A few high windows allowing natural light to filter through in pale, dusty shafts. A long table with straight-backed chairs that actively discouraged comfort. Everything designed with deliberate intent to be functional, neutral, stripped of the specific ostentation that characterized any of the noble houses.
A space where, in theory, decisions were made by merit and not by influence.
In theory.
Selphira Ashenway entered with steady steps. No rush, but with purpose. Her presence filled the space immediately, not through fanfare but through simple inevitability.
Like when a storm approaches and the air pressure changes.
They were all already there.
