Once the physical sparring concluded and Arya stepped back to cool down, Zaeryn did not stop. He transitioned immediately into training his powers.

Standing on the edge of the patio, he trained for another hour until he felt like he had made some real progress today. None of it was visible yet, because his system stats were still sitting exactly where they had been yesterday, but he could feel the difference underneath the numbers, the way the energy answered him a fraction faster and held its shape a fraction longer.

Completely drained but riding the high of a productive session, Zaeryn let the golden energy of his vitae weaving dissolve into harmless sparks. His muscles ached with a heavy, satisfying burn. He headed inside the quiet house and sank into a steaming hot bath, letting the heat soak the deep tension right out of his bones.

Back in the capitol sector — Palace corridor.

The palace corridor was wide and long. The stone underfoot was pale and polished, and the windows that lined the eastern wall looked out over the capital in the afternoon, the city organized and vast beneath a sky that had gone the soft gold of early evening.

Valerie was giving Sage a tour of the palace.

The tour had lasted the better part of an hour, and Princess Valerie had narrated every minute of it.

Sage had expected something brief and ceremonial, a corridor or two and a balcony with a view worth mentioning in correspondence.

What she had received instead was Valerie’s personal version of the palace, which had very little to do with architecture and a great deal to do with people.

Every hall came with a story attached to it, and every story came with a name, and every name came with a small editorial judgment that Valerie delivered with the easy confidence of someone who had never once worried about being quoted.

Tahlia the protocol officer followed a few steps behind them.

"Thank you for the tour," Sage said, as they turned into a long gallery lined with tall windows. "You didn’t have to do this yourself. I’m sure the protocol office has people whose entire occupation is this."

"They do, and they are terribly boring at it." Valerie waved the suggestion away. "Besides, it’s only fair. You showed me around when I visited Stellan Innovations. I am simply returning the courtesy. Although I will admit your tour had fewer portraits of dead relatives, which I consider a point in your favor."

"We keep ours in the financial reports," Sage said.

Valerie laughed, bright and unguarded, the sound carrying easily down the gallery. "Oh, I like you. Athea said you were all business. She was wrong, which I intend to remind her of at the next opportunity."

They turned a corner where the corridor widened into a gallery-style passage, the ceiling vaulted higher here and the light coming from above through a long, narrow skylight that ran the length of the hall.

Along the inner wall, the architecture opened into a raised observation ledge that overlooked the lower courtyard three floors below.

Viora was standing there.

She was at the far end of the ledge with her arms resting on the stone railing, her gaze fixed on something in the courtyard below. She was wearing a formal dress, which was a departure for her, and it suited the title she rarely bothered to look like.

Her silver hair was pulled back with a practical severity, and she had the particular stillness of someone who had not come here to be found but was not surprised to have been.

Valerie brightened visibly.

"And that," she said, with the faint energy of someone who had been saving this for the right moment, "is Princess Viora. My niece. Who, for the record, loves her alone time."

Viora heard them approach and turned from the railing. Her gaze moved across the three of them in a single measured pass and arrived at Sage with a recognition that was immediate and unhurried.

"Cousin," Viora said, without looking at Valerie. The correction was flat and automatic, the tone of someone who had made it many times before and expected it to accomplish nothing.

Viora was Valerie’s cousin by blood, but Valerie had decided long ago that niece suited her better, and no amount of correction had ever moved her off it.

"Niece," Valerie repeated pleasantly. "I’m older and wiser. The mathematics of it favor me."

"That is not how the mathematics of it work."

"It’s how I do them."

Viora did not pursue it. She had learned long ago that engaging with Valerie on this particular point only extended the conversation, and extending the conversation was the entire purpose of the provocation. She turned to Sage instead, and a faint smile crossed her face, the kind that didn’t announce itself. "Sage."

"Viora." Sage inclined her head.

"I’m finally giving her the proper tour of inside the palace," Valerie said, drifting closer to the ledge.

Viora’s eyes moved briefly past them both and settled on the protocol officer waiting at a respectful distance. "Tahlia," she said, with a small nod.

"Your Highness," Tahlia replied, inclining her head.

That appeared to be the full extent of what Viora intended to contribute. She turned back to the railing, and the silence she returned to was so complete and so comfortable that it seemed to belong to her in the way the view did.

Sage walked over and stood next to Viora at the railing.

"By the way," Valerie said, appearing at Sage’s other side with the timing of someone who had been waiting for the conversation to thin. "Has your invitation arrived yet? To the Lumina Gala."

"No," Sage said. "Should it have?"

"Not to worry. They only went out two hours ago. The couriers in this palace are ceremonial about everything, including delivery speed." Valerie rested an elbow lightly on the stone railing, her tone staying exactly as breezy as it had been all afternoon. "You and your mother are both on the list. It will be the event of the season, which I say every season, but this season I happen to mean it."

"Then I look forward to it."

"You should." Valerie paused, and the pause was small, and Sage noticed it anyway. "And Zaeryn? Do you plan on bringing him along?"

Beside her, Viora did not react to it. But she was listening.

"I wasn’t aware guests could bring anyone," Sage said. "The Gala doesn’t strike me as that kind of event."

"Leave that part to me." Valerie smiled, and the smile was warm, and underneath the warmth there was a structure to it, something load-bearing. "I only ask because I’d like for him to attend this year’s Gala. He was fun. The Capital runs low on fun, in case the tour didn’t make that clear."

"I’ll mention it to him," Sage said. "Whether he comes depends on him."