In a blur of shifting light and small meals, I fitfully slept, ate, and read while drifting along the meandering ride of time. The pink light of the filtered sun lazily crept into the bedroom announcing a new day. Still I continued indulging in my deplorable sloth. The book I was reading mocked me with its activity, but I had no need to do anything. I was free according to my tormentors.

“The vote has been taken,” Dan announced as if this mattered greatly.

I smiled and nodded to hide my apathy.

“The representatives will be meeting soon to discuss the new laws,” He stood next to me, staring down at me as if he expected this to overcome my lethargy.

“Good for them,” I expended effort to meet his eyes; what did the Wall do to them? The strange light that danced over the black center of his eyes is as mesmerizing as it is disconcerting.

“We should get going,” He insisted in that official monotone voice that he affects. He reached down and gently lifted the book from my hands.

“Should we? Is this something that requires our attention?” I asked, clearing my throat afterwards in an attempt to combat the phlegm in it.

He took my hand, “This has been your goal since we entered the city. You should at least watch it be completed.”

He was right. With a sigh, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. “Where is my chair remote?”

From his pant’s pocket he produced the thin black stick that was the chair remote and handed it over to me.

The chair came over as directed, and I flopped my body from the bed over to the chair. I rubbed my sore shoulders. Maneuvering around using only my arms and upper body muscles was wearing on the parts of my body unused to this strain. I shifted around to straighten my body out in the chair to look like a dignified human instead of a sack of flour lobbed without effort into a cart.

“Would you like help getting ready?” Dan asked, and I shrugged in response.

I was getting tired of the work and effort involved in doing anything. He seemed to be waiting for a verbal response. “Sure, I guess I shouldn’t go out in this simple shift.”

The dress I was wearing the previous day was hanging off a hook on the wall. Dan brought it over and helped change me back into it. It should have smelled of stale sweat at this point, but instead it smelled freshly laundered. I guess Dan had taken it away to be cleaned. He buckled the bit of armor Cat made from the leftovers of my exile armor and then combed out my shoulder length brown hair and twisted it up into a bun. When he was done, he stepped back and nodded, “You look regal as always.”

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Regal. That was how my sister looked; not me. I directed the chair toward the door.

He ran to grab the door before I had the chance to open it. He was always doing as much for me as I let him.

The path through the house and back up to the top of the hill in the center of the city was an easy route to take. I’d only been up and down it once, but this time I didn’t let Dan guide me, and instead led the way. He was right; I should at least see what these idiots would create for their new rule system. Or really it was more of what did the Spies desire their new rule system to be? Could I say anything that would destabilize their desires, or would everything I say continue to work in their favor? If so, did that mean that my thought process aligned with the people who orchestrated my sister’s death?

In front of the ruins of the castle was a table with 12 chairs and a space for me. A city guard was holding slate and seemed to be calling out names. A man moved to sit in a chair after his name was called. Then a woman in a stiff black dress with her gray hair braided into a coif moved to take a seat. One by one each of the chairs was filled, and I saw Henry’s brother Richard Hongew fill a chair. My host, Richard Revacks, filled another. The slimy man who greeted me at the gate, Delvin Fairfield, also took a seat. I guided my chair into the empty space where I assumed my own space was, and no one said anything.

After everyone was seated, Richard stood up, “Thank you everyone for gathering today. Our agenda today is to start with our ruling structure, and then move into voting blocks to even out the citizen numbers voting for their respective representative. Future agenda items after that are laws for the city, and repercussions of each law.”

I was not a voted for representative. I shouldn’t even be a part of this discussion.

The stern looking gray haired raised her hand and spoke, “If there are twelve of us, how will we break ties on any decision?”

Richard pointed to me, “Through the tie breaker whose only role is to vote in the case of a tie.”

“This woman wasn’t voted for! It is not fair that she should have a say when the rest of us had to work for our positions,” Delvin whined.

Work! Hah! He may have demanded to be on the ballot and that was probably about it.

Richard shrugged, “She is the reason we are sitting here today, so for now she will fill the seat. We can have her seat voted for in the future, though I don’t doubt she will win. Right now she is fairly popular with the people.” Somehow he seemed to have just appointed himself as de facto leader, and no one complained.

I didn’t really care about my voice in this forum, “Do not worry, I am only here until the great Exile. My place is not in the City anymore.”

Richard looked surprised. Did he expect me to stay around and back him up after killing my sister?

The gray haired woman turned her sunken sky blue eyes on me, evaluating me. Then she turned back to Richard, “How do we fill her spot if there are only 12 districts? The Dishonored are already being given a vote for her - her ideals.” She spat the word ideals as if it was mud that had gotten into her mouth.

Richard’s gentle smile came back. “By having the whole population of the City vote on the tie-breaker role.”

His plan for my role wasn’t a bad one. The person would be like the presidents I read about in the Wall, except with less power which was probably a good thing.

They continued talking for a while, debating the semantics of the 13 person council. I didn’t care too much about it, and let the fog of their arguing drift over me.