All eyes were immediately on the Cynn, and a wave of murmuring went through the room--he'd gotten their attention, at the very least. Some of the Assembly members even made to stand up.

< What?? >

< Now wait just one moment-- >

< You cannot just-- >

< Eh? > the Cynn responded idly. < I'm sure that I can. > He had gone from an air of moral superiority to one of petulancy; now he was leaning on the podium with one elbow, the other hand on his hip, his head tilted at the Assembly members with a face which was carefully scrubbed of expression, but which still somehow said enough. Matter-of-factly, he went on, < Easing the refugee crisis in the Archipelago is now part of fighting the slave trade, clearly. Therefore. >

A dark-skinned spirit dressed in white and green spoke up loudly, showing their teeth. < Those visas are intended for recruits to the R.I.T. Coalition, > they growled. Not everyone was showing anger, at least not so outwardly--the spirit sitting below them, an older spirit with freckles on their forehead and heavy-lidded yellow eyes, merely gazed down at the Cynn chillingly, their brow ever so slightly knit. < There is no coalition. There will be no coalition, so far as I'm concerned. What justification do you have-- >

The Cynn interrupted, patting the book on his podium briskly. < I did show you the letters, Themadher du Sarkas, > he said. < Historically, ignoring public outcry does not work out well for those in power. You know this, yes? It is in our modern nation's foundations, after all. > He leaned forward then, his green eyes narrowed, and continued quite seriously, < Having been reminded of this, I expect you all to reconsider your stubbornness on the R.I.T. Coalition very soon. >