A half-smile curved his lips as he held up a garment bag.
"The captain requests that you wear this tonight."
"What's tonight?" I asked, taking the bag.
"The Captain's Dinner. More specifically, the Tethered Table."
"Is somebody going to tell me what the Tethered is? Kaedren mentioned it earlier."
Lyrin winced. "Yes, your sparring match. That was an unexpected move."
I glanced down, then quickly back up. "Right, sorry. But the Tethered?"
"It isn't my place to say. You'll need to ask the captain." He bowed his head. "Dinner is in two hours. Kaedren will escort you."
He paused in the doorway. "Doctor Vale? The captain may seem severe tonight. He protects what he values."
"Should I be reassured or terrified?"
His half-smile returned. "Both may be appropriate."
He left before I could ask anything else.
Somehow, they had everything I needed to get ready. I wondered how many damsels in distress had lived in this same room—something to add to my list of questions for tonight.
The dress inside the bag was beautiful: a single-shoulder gown that bared my left arm, the fabric shimmering like liquid starlight. Galaxiesdrifted across the material—alive within the weave. When I brushed the fabric, constellations scattered and slowly reformed.
I slipped it on. The fabric molded to my body as if tailored specifically for me. The galaxies settled into a slow rotation across my hips and shoulders. Now I needed to know what this was made of, how I could get another, or three, dresses like this.
Another knock. I opened the door.
Kaedren stood there in a full military dress uniform—crisp white pants. A four-armed tuxedo jacket was spread tight across his massive upper shoulders. Gold buttons. Silver chains. My brain short-circuited.
"I am here to escort you to dinner, Doctor," he said, offering his lower-right arm. His eyes tracked the galaxies swirling across my dress, then lifted to my face. "You look... radiant."
I blushed and took his arm, hyperaware of the warmth of his skin through his jacket. I hadn't had this much attention from anyone in so long that I wasn't entirely sure whether to preen or panic.
Torvyn, Lyrin, and Vaelix all stood when I entered the dining room, the synchronized movement so fluid it looked choreographed.
It wasn't what I expected.
I'd braced for cold military efficiency—metallic surfaces and harsh lighting. Instead, yellow chandeliers cast honeyed light over mirror-polished metal walls. The long table was set with more silverware than I knew how to use, each piece reflecting the light like scattered stars.
Kaedren pulled out my chair, metal scraping metal, and I murmured thanks before sitting. As the others took their seats, I couldn't help noticing they'd all dressed in full military regalia—uniforms identical except for the blood-red sash across Torvyn's chest and the subtle differences in rank insignia.
For a kidnapping, this was incredibly formal.
A small army of servers swept in, placing a rainbow of food and drink before us, then vanished.
Torvyn raised a glass. "To the Tethered Table."
"The Tethered Table," the others echoed.
I raised my glass too, but kept quiet. They sipped, so I did. A burst of tart flavor bloomed across my tongue—like cranberries and starfruit had a baby—my new favorite drink ever.
I lifted the glass for a decidedly un-classy second sip when Torvyn cleared his throat.
His disapproving look said everything. I set the glass down.
