Zaeryn didn’t answer her right away.
The complint if it was a complint, hung between them in the dark like a held note that had been struck and not quite released. He wasn’t sure what to do with it.
Daphne lay against his side with one arm draped lazily across his stomach, her blue hair fanned over the pillow in a soft, silken ss. The fierce, breathless creature from a few minutes ago had quieted into sothing deceptively calm. Her body was warm against his, her breathing slow now, but her eyes were still sharp.
They always were.
He stared at the ceiling and let her words sit, because in the most literal and inconvenient sense Daphne was right.
* * *
anwhile, in the capital sector.
Sage walked into her suite, letting the heavy doors seal shut behind her. She dropped her bag on the glass table and stood dead in the center of the room, doing absolutely nothing, letting the quiet finally wash over her.
Almost imdiately, her mind drifted to Zaeryn for the hundredth ti that day. What are you up to? she wondered. Knowing him, he was neck-deep in sothing ridiculous. Sothing that would inevitably make her laugh.
A tired but genuine smile touched her lips. She reached for her Omni-Pad, pulling up his contact. Her thumb was hovering over the call icon when the suite’s AI chid, the crisp voice cutting through the silence.
"Dr. Stellan, you have visitors at the entrance. Princess Valerie and Princess Aphrodite."
Sage paused. She looked at the screen, then at the door. Zaeryn would have to wait.
"Let them in."
The entrance slid open, and Valerie breezed in. She was her usual bright, warm self, ard with that effortless, magnetic smile that made everyone feel like they were her favorite person in the room. "Sage! I hope we’re not interrupting."
Behind her stood a woman Sage had never t in person, but had heard plenty about.
Raven-black hair, piercing green eyes, and bone structure so flawless it looked aggressively engineered. But beneath the perfection, Sage imdiately caught it — a subtle, undeniable physical resemblance to soone she knew very well. Aphrodite lingered near the threshold, scanning the suite with the critical eye of soone deciding whether or not to be disappointed.
"Not at all," Sage said smoothly, turning her attention back to Valerie. "Co in."
"We aren’t staying," Valerie said, waving a dismissive hand at the plush seating area. "We ca to kidnap you."
Sage arched an eyebrow. "Kidnap ?"
"Athea’s orders. She wants you to familiarize yourself with the city." Valerie stepped further into the room. "And frankly, I agree. You haven’t been here long, and I can already tell you work way too much."
Sage smiled. It was hard not to like Valerie. Her carefree, bubbling energy was a massive relief compared to the stiff, guarded royals she usually dealt with.
"I appreciate the concern, Valerie," Sage said. "But I’m fine, really. I just got back and was planning to review so research data."
Valerie shook her head. "That’s not living, Sage. We’re going out for drinks."
Sage glanced past Valerie. Aphrodite had drifted toward the far wall, running a perfectly manicured finger along the edge of a display shelf. She inspected her fingertip, looking mildly offended by whatever invisible speck of dust she found.
"Does she talk?" Sage asked Valerie, keeping her tone light as she nodded toward the other princess.
Aphrodite’s green eyes snapped to her. "When there’s sothing worth saying."
Valerie winced, jumping in before the temperature in the room could drop below freezing. "Aphro. You promised you would be nice."
"I am being nice," Aphrodite said in a leveled voice.
She turned her full attention to Sage. Her gaze dropped from Sage’s face down to her clothes. It wasn’t an admiring look; it was a ruthless appraisal. She looked at Sage’s outfit the way an artist inspects a rival’s masterpiece, asuring the cut, the fabric, the silhouette.
Valerie had returned from Stellan Innovations claiming this doctor dressed better than anyone in the capital. Aphrodite had clearly taken that as a personal challenge, and she was here to settle the score.
She let the silence stretch out, withholding her verdict as a deliberate power move.
Sage didn’t squirm. She didn’t cross her arms or match the icy glare. Instead, her polite smile ward into sothing remarkably genuine.
"Hi," Sage said brightly, completely ignoring the silent intimidation tactic. "I absolutely love your jacket. The tailoring on the shoulders is incredible, is that custom synth-silk? Because the drape is gorgeous. I’m Sage, by the way. It’s so nice to et you."
Aphrodite blinked.
She looked down at her own jacket, then back at Sage, and smiled. "It is custom," she said, and the bite in her voice faded. "Thank you. Most people don’t notice the tailoring."
"You’re welco. Most people are just unfashionable, how can they notice it?" She glanced at Valerie, fond and dry. "Your cousin is a perfect example. She told my coat was beautiful three tis the day we t and never once ntioned the tailoring. Bless her."
Valerie gasped. "That’s not fair. I said it was beautiful because it was beautiful. What more do you want from ?"
"The cut, Valerie," Aphrodite said dryly, without looking at her.
"The cut was also beautiful," Valerie defended. "It was all beautiful. Beautifully."
Aphrodite laughed, glancing at Valerie’s mock-wounded face, before turning to Sage.
"I’m Aphrodite." She was still smiling. The whole intimidation routine had evaporated the second soone acknowledged her outfit. She almost looked pleased with herself.
Valerie bead, clearly thrilled that bloodshed had been avoided. "See? Best friends already. Now grab your coat, Sage."
Sage glanced once at her Omni-Pad. Zaeryn’s contact was still glowing softly on the screen, the call she hadn’t gotten to make. She tapped it dark and slipped the device into her pocket. Whatever ridiculous thing he was up to would still be there in the morning.
She reached for her coat.
* * *
Back in Sector 7, Zaeryn was still lying awake next to Daphne, still thinking. Her words, which had been ant as a complint, had made him think deeper than he had allowed himself before.
His situation was absurd. He was the only male Vitae wielder in a world that swore one couldn’t exist, and won noticed. They noticed his rarity, his anomaly status, the quiet fact that standing close to him ant standing close to sothing the Queendom had never produced before. Add ti, closeness, a few whispered things in the dark, and curiosity sharpened into interest, interest into wanting, wanting into sothing that didn’t loosen its grip easily. Not instantly. Not against the deepest core of who they were. But the pull existed, and it deepened, and it tied things together that wouldn’t have tied so quickly around any other man.
The problem was that the thread tied both ways.
He could not take without being taken. Could not draw a woman toward him without feeling himself dragged toward her, bit by quiet bit. A beautiful trap, if one was being poetic. An annoying one, if one was being honest. And worst of all, it did absolutely nothing against enemies, because enemies did not, as a rule, climb into bed with him and offer up the contents of their vitae. What a uselessly intimate power.
He almost laughed.
Daphne noticed anyway. Of course she did.
She tilted her head slightly, violet eyes studying his profile with open amusent. "What are you thinking about?"
"A lot of things."
"That’s rarely a good sign."
"No," he admitted. "Probably not."
Her fingers moved over his ribs in a slow, idle line. "Tell one of them."
He was quiet for a mont. Then he turned his head and looked at her. "I’ve been wondering about sothing."
"Mm."
"What do Lysara, Ysine, and Athea actually talk about?"
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