Eamon smiled when Leonidas said he was looking well.
It was a good smile, professional and noble in every way. Warm enough to be convincing, brief enough not to overstay its welcome.
The smile of a man who had learned, somewhere along the way, that the first impression of a meeting set the temperature of everything that followed
"Art," he said. "I'm glad you made it."
He gestured, an open sweep of his hand toward the table, toward the two remaining chairs that sat at its near end, angled slightly toward the head where Eamon stood.
They were the only empty seats in the room. Everything else was occupied by Leonidas's friends and the two men.
The unstable stone, underfoot, shifted slightly.
Leonidas sat next to Rani, while Marybeth took the chair beside him.
He settled his hand on the table's edge and looked at the maps spread before him, properly looked, now that he was close enough for the detail to resolve.
