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She is slower than the mirror-faced snake, and for some reason it is choosing to chase her, and she is not in dense enough forest to lose it by going up a tree or between a couple too narrowly spaced for it. So it catches her before emergency services can turn up.
And then she is somewhere else, in a not particularly attractive room next to a person who looks sort of off somehow.
"Excuse me," she says, taking a step out of his personal space.
"I get the sense none of you except Mirelótë here are from a society that's invented computing? Well, with it come a lot of inventions that make it easier for planets to have lots more people, and then there are moons that get colonized, and other planets in the same system, and space stations."
"Starting fewer wars. Negotiating a treaty with some aliens we ran into. Consolidating. Developing the Radch."
"Nothing like that. Some people die when we conquer places. Do your advisors tell you that the work of your country is otherwise?"
"Yes. I mean, if we disagreed we'd talk about it and if I had a really good argument maybe I'd convince him. But under most circumstances, yes."
"Did your father - or maybe it was your mother - really, obsessively, enjoy linguistics? Should've been a politician but couldn't even really pretend to care, not when there was anything actually interesting in the room, and the most interesting thing in the world -"
He turns to look at Cor. " - Mirelótë noticed - we weren't sure what to make of it - strange commonalities between the Noldorin royal family and, well, mine. Same parents. Same seven kids, with - distinct similarities in personality -"
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