“Yeah.” I huff. “First session. Just hoping it’ll get better with time. Call Week’s coming up, and I doubt it’ll just be Ryven or Elijah gunning for me. Ezzy said I’ll only get called once, so I’ll just have to face one of them. But still, I don’t know if I’ll be ready.”
Talen doesn’t even blink. “You’ll be ready.”
I glance over at him. “How can you be so sure?”
“I’ve watched Elijah. You’d take him easy. And before you say it—yeah, without blowing yourself up. I’m not worried. Not about them. Not about you.” He grins, then throws me a winklike it costs him nothing. Something hot flushes up my neck before I can stop it, and I look away, jaw tight.
The Talen I’ve come to know behind closed doors—quiet, unfiltered, maddeningly sure—is nothing like the one everyone else sees. And maybe it’s the low light, or the ache in my muscles, or the fact that I haven’t slept properly in three nights, but I finally say it.
“I know you’re not going to tell me how you even knew about them or why you’d even take the risk, but I know it was you who dropped the Spice to Rhiann and her son before they... Before the fire.” Talen keeps his gaze straight ahead, like he hasn’t heard a word, but I keep talking. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
For a heartbeat, I think I see something, maybe a twitch at his side, but just as quickly it’s gone and we keep walking in silence.
After a few minutes, the quiet presses down between us, filling the corridor and making every step feel heavier. I shift, rolling my shoulders, and finally break it. “Anyway… are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Talen glances at me; a wide grin forms, too quick, too sharp, like he’s far too pleased with whatever he’s got planned. My stomach tightens, but as we round the corner, something in his expression shifts. He reaches out and pulls me close, pressing me against his side.
I look up to protest, but my voice stalls in my throat. Talen’s expression remains calm, but his fist is clenched at his side, my voice locked tight with it.
“Good afternoon, Sovereign Minister.” Talen dips his head in a brief, respectful bow. “What a lovely surprise to see you down here.”
I turn forward just in time to see Vaelric Serrane, the creepy guru, floating toward us in his pristine white robes.
Two of his initiates trail behind, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods—cadets who’d volunteered for his strange “Inner Circle” thing Rowan told me about, giving up everything to train directly under him.
“Ah, Officer Veirmont,” Serrane replies, a warm smile stretching across his face. “Yes, well, I was getting a bit bored tucked away in my tower. And what luck to bump into my favourite officer. Tell me, how are your parents?”
Serrane stops in front of us, and I get a better look at him. Even with his hood up, it’s clear he’s bald, his gaunt face etched in elegant, weary lines—not old, just… worn.
I realise I’ve never seen him this close before. For someone so prestigious, I’m surprised how little I ever see him outside the monthly sermons, which, lately, have only grown stranger. Finn has actually started practising some of his teachings and swears it helps when he feels low: stuff about separating your Threads, the good from the bad and crap like that.
“Yes, very well, thank you, Minister,” Talen replies. “They send their best wishes and look forward to seeing you soon.”
“You know, I was sorry to hear about your brother, Ezekiel.” Serrane’s eyes crease with what looks like genuine empathy. “But as you know, the Council outvoted me… and, well, rules are rules.”
There’s no edge, no coldness. His tone is warm, kind, even. And it throws me. I was expecting ice and power, similar to Merrin.
“Thank you, Minister,” Talen says. “I appreciate that.”
Then Serrane turns to me. His gaze is perceptive, but in that soft, unnerving way that makes you feel seen without even knowing how. I brace myself, but it’s not fear curling in my gut. It’s… peace, calmness, happiness, like it’s radiating off him.
What the hell? Maybe this is what Finn’s been talking about.
“Ah. And who do we have here?” He asks.
I open my mouth to answer, but Talen’s fist is still clenched tight at his side, and my voice won’t come.
“Cadet Bloom, Minister,” Talen replies for me. “Second-year, Air Realm. Someone I’ve become rather fond of.” He turns, and a brief smile flickers toward me.
“Oh yes,” Serrane notes in a pleasant tone. “I do recall Merrin telling me you enacted the Union Clause. Good to see you finally settling down, a nice change from your... previousromantic endeavours,” he adds, looking at Talen.
I flash a quick glance at him, then look away before he notices. God… how many people has he been with here? Not just Beth.
“Well.” Talen replies, still polite. “It’s early days. But I believe we make a strong partnership. Not just for ourselves, but for the protection of our people.”
Serrane nods, satisfied. “As ever, your priorities align with the Citadel’s. A reminder of why you remain my favourite officer.” He turns, attention shifting back to me, his smile steady. “It’s lovely to meet you, Cadet Bloom.”
He extends a hand, and without thinking, I shift mine forward to meet it, but Talen is faster. In one smooth motion, he glides his hand over mine and laces our fingers together—blocking the contact like it’s nothing.
