When Veronica arrived at the council, many councilors were already seated in their places. She was among the later arrivals.
Veronica did not care about that. She had come as soon as she received the notice, and nearly half the people present were Simulacrums anyway. Her actual presence was sincere enough.
But judging by the vacant seat of honor, the old man apparently still did not intend to attend today's meeting.
According to some elders, the old man had rarely handled official affairs over the past fifty years, instead devoting himself to grooming Zalason, his own senior disciple, to succeed him as Speaker. From the looks of it, that might indeed have been true.
But being Speaker was not so easy.
The female mage thought with interest.
After two councilors in white robes arrived, Zalason rose to speak. He was the first living direct disciple of Vice Speaker McCondier of Haluar, and sat in the first seat on the right before the dais.
"Sixty percent of the councilors currently on Toril have arrived. The meeting meets council regulations. We will now convene regarding the street protest by Robert, a third-year apprentice of the School of Conjuration at Yarrah Magic Academy."
"Everyone, please speak freely."
Although the Vice Speaker had opened the floor, no one present spoke. The Simulacrums simply stared blankly with their eyes open. Someone as restless as Veronica casually summoned several clusters of arcane flame onto her fingers and played with them beneath the table.
She could use the interval to hone her magical skill.
Facing the deserted council chamber, Zalason's expression remained unchanged. He looked toward the director of the Guard Barracks seated nearby, the representative of the Verast family, renowned for the School of Evocation and bearing the emblem of lightning and a golden lion on