Page 3459

The Sandlords had such a long and turbulent history. The idea that they might have been snuffed out as a result of his own inability to keep them safe...

Ugh.

He was being irrational again. Thinking the weight of the world rested squarely upon his shoulders. How silly. When it was obviously much more complicated than that.

And yet, also not. Because really, if he was so curious about their whereabouts, he could simply begin asking the right questions.

What?

Yes. The right questions. Of the world.

No.

Of Avar.

He growled.

His stubbornness wasn’t doing anyone any favors, least of all the innocent civilians that he so wished to protect. If he was true to his convictions, then--

A knock at the metal door arrived, pulling him out of his own head.

“What is it?” he said loudly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Sir, ah--Senator Jacobson is here to see you.”

He blinked. Jacobson? Out of the blue? Well, there was no point in thinking about it. While he might’ve been past the stage where he was afraid of accidentally harming those around him, he was still in no state to be hosting civilian guests. “Tell him I’m sorry but that I’m not taking visitors at this time.”

“Ah--he’s, er--very insistent, sir...”

He rubbed his forehead. Well, maybe it would be okay. “What does he want?”

“...‘To discuss foreign policy,’ he says.”

Oh boy.

This was hardly the first time that a political leader had come knocking at his door, and there’d been various points in his life where he’d grown quite comfortable in the presence of such people.

It had been a while, though. Even disregarding his questionable mental state, he still felt a bit rusty.

But that name. Jacobson, huh? It was hard to keep track of all these Intarian senators, especially when so many of them didn’t keep their positions for more than a few years, so the fact that he actually recognized this one was saying something.

He took a deep breath. “Alright, show him in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Maybe he was being an idiot. Or maybe this would be exactly the kind of distraction he needed, right now. He honestly couldn’t tell.

When the door opened, a middle-aged man in a sharp suit walked through while smiling graciously at Delilah, Jackson’s secretary, who closed the door behind him.