The meeting ended in the same way that all long meetings do: with exhaustion disguised as consensus.
Dax remained seated until the final formal phrase was spoken and acknowledged, his expression unchanging and his posture perfect.
The chamber exhaled as one.
Voices trailed off. Papers were gathered. Courtiers rose already, filtering into clusters that would try to undo half the decisions before sunset.
Andrew stayed where he was until protocol released him. Only when the doors began to open and ministers started breaking into quiet knots did he step closer, angling his body in the way that meant 'this is not for anyone else.'
"Your Majesty," he said quietly. "There is a report when you are ready."
Dax nodded and turned down the side corridor reserved for the Crown, the heavy doors closing behind them with a final, echoing sound. The noise of parliament fell away almost immediately, replaced by the muted quiet of stone and distance.
They walked in silence for several steps.
