Kira’s uncle was a hard man. Formed by sorrow, hardened by battle. Everything Harlow was, everything he'd become, had been forged during the events of the Sorrowing when the previous Overlord—Harlow’s younger twin brother—and his wife had been murdered, their daughter and countless other children of House Roake stolen.
Harlow had inherited a wreckage of a House, taken it and forced it to hold against all who would have tried to usurp it.
He had no primus form, but he'd managed to turn that into a strength. Graydon knew of no other who was as deadly as Harlow.
The current Overlord’s example was a lesson Graydon had taken to heart. It didn't matter what skills or talents you had been born with if you didn't make the most of them, surpassing the limits others placed on you.
Kira reminded Graydon of Harlow in many ways. She contained that same force of personality. She didn’t let anything hold her back when she had set her sights on something. Perhaps that was why he had been drawn to her from the beginning.
"Little Storm, you've grown well," Indya said softly as Graydon moved past the oshota, pushing open the door.
As he had every time Graydon had entered this room, Harlow sat in a position of power behind his desk, studying the polymer screen that had dozens of streams of data scrawling across it. Some were live holovids, others stats or memos.
Harlow didn't bother looking up as Graydon entered. "You've come to take me to task."
Graydon shut the door behind him, careful not to slam it. "I'm simply here to ask why."
Harlow swiped a hand over the desk, dismissing the data and leaving the façade of ancient wood, nicked and scarred by time.
The Overlord settled in his chair, leveling that predator's stare on Graydon. The weight of thousands of years came to bear as Harlow dropped the reins on his control, letting Graydon feel the full might of his personality and power.
Graydon held firm. It might have been years since he'd experienced this, but even now the tiny hairs on his neck stood up, warning him of danger.
He ignored them with the ease of long practice, advancing across the room with a lazy stroll before slouching into a chair in front of Harlow's desk.
When he'd been under Harlow's command, he never would have dared. Everyone knew the chairs were a lure for the unwary. Sit in them without an invitation, and you would face repercussions.
Graydon gave Harlow a toothy smile as he lounged with deceptive ease. "The Trek of the Weary. Really? That is an old test even by House Roake's standards. I don't even remember the last time it was used."
It certainly hadn't been in Graydon's day.
The Trek of the Weary took its name from the beginning of the Tuann Empire's history, at a time when they had fled their first home world. It was said that their ancestors had crashed on a harsh world and had to walk hundreds of miles to find sanctuary. The journey had taxed the Tuann in ways they'd never experienced before. They could only take what they could carry. Anything they set aside was left behind.
It was said in their history books that was how the first affinities were decided. Pushed to the brink, barely able to survive, those first Tuann had unlocked the potential within. Helped in part by having no other choice.
The trek Kira was even now walking was meant to simulate a small part of what those first Tuann had gone through. The path was deceptive and meant to test an individual's perseverance and will power.
He did not envy her or the rest their journey.
“Why not simply greet her the way I know you want to? Why force her to make this decision now?” Graydon asked, genuinely at a loss.
"She's not one of us. You and Silas have made it clear she doesn't see her future in this House. She's already shown she responds well to challenge and adversity. I'm simply giving her the fuel she needs to succeed," Harlow said.
"You intend to trick her into accepting a place among Roake." Graydon knew his mentor well. The man did devious better than any other Tuann he knew except for the emperor. It was only luck that both men had a code of honor that was bedrock deep and had never found themselves on opposing sides.
"You, better than anyone, know what she faces here. There are those who will point to her beginnings and call her unworthy. By forcing her to prove her worth now, I remove many barriers she will face later," Harlow said.
"Are you sure that's what this is?" Graydon asked.
Harlow regarded him steadily.
Graydon shook his head. His mentor had always been stubborn. "Kira doesn't respond well to manipulation. If you're not careful, you'll make it so she hates you before the end."
She had been magnificent when routing the human admiral's agenda. She might not have wanted to cut ties, but she'd been willing and ready to when it became obvious they planned to use her status against her.
She'd done what she felt necessary to retain what she perceived as freedom. It proved the extent she'd go to when backed into a corner. Kira wasn't the type to surrender gracefully.
Harlow didn't seem surprised. "Her father was the same."
