They bring the Houses together in the Viewing Rotunda. The space is designed for spectacle, not intimacy. A circular floor of obsidianstretches beneath my feet, inlaid with a silver star map that glows faintly. The constellations shift as I walk across them, responding to movement. Tall windows arch between stone pillars, each one fitted with stained glass depicting planetary symbols. The banners of each House hang from the vaulted ceiling like battle standards, their colours sharp against the stone. People line the curved walls in clusters: advisors, aides, envoys, priests. The Cardinals stand on a raised dais at the far end, backlit by the largest window.
My skin feels too tight. A low hum has started at the base of my skull, familiar and unwelcome.
Ren angles me along a route that avoids choke points. Isolde ghosts my left flank, murmuring micro-cues. “Pause here.” “Acknowledge there.” “Ignore that one.” Zevran walks a pace behind.
I scan the room as I’m ushered onto the central ring. Commander Kaelix leans against a pillar with their arms crossed, watching me with hostile curiosity. Lady Tavia stands with her delegation, silver and blue robes catching light with every small movement, their expressions giving away nothing. Lady Nerida hovers near the Neptune banners, her sea-green hair almost translucent in the filtered sunlight, gaze distant like she’s looking at something beyond this room.
My throat tightens.
They probably all think I’ve been maliciously lying to them, gathering information to take them down. It can’t be further from the truth.
Cardinal Maria’s voice breaks the silence. “By ancient law, Lady Cyra of House Sun is recognized as a rightful contender for Solar Sovereign. She will stand the remaining trials.”
The words make it real. Official. Irreversible.
I can feel them all looking at me differently now. Lord Evander leans forward slightly, his eyes sharp and calculating like he’s already three moves ahead.
Lord Castor shoves forward from Jupiter’s cluster, shoulders broad enough to easily cut through the crowd. His face is swollen on one side, a dark bruise spreading from his jaw to his temple. He moves like someone who’s used to ignoring pain, but I can see the subtle limp in his stride.
“Withrespectto the Cardinals,” he says, though his tone suggestsno respect whatsoever. “The daughter of a murderous tyrant king appears after twenty-eight years, and we’re expected to simplyaccepther legitimacy?”
Whispers run through the chamber. Some agreeing. Some waiting.
Lord Castor’s voice sharpens. “We all saw what happened in that arena. There was magical interference. That alone should disqualify her!”
“Andyouused illegal tech to stabilize your platform and almost kill Zevran,” Commander Kaelix says lazily. “Should we disqualify you for that, or do rules only apply to people you don’t like?”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Lord Castor’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t back down.
“Even setting aside the arena,” he continues, turning back to me, “what exactly qualifies her to lead? She’s been hiding on Mars playing healer while us actual leaders did the work of governing. She’s never commanded a House. Never negotiated a treaty. Never made a decision that affected whole planets.” He gestures at me. “How can someone who’s spent her entire life hiding, suddenly command an entire solar system?”
The chamber goes quiet.
My throat is tight. The hum in my head is faint but building. Every eye in the room is on me, waiting to see if I’ll break…
I don’t know what to say. He’s not wrong. I haven’t done any of those things.
If they see even a flicker of my father in me … rage, power, the wrong kind of confidence … they’ll tear me apart.
Isolde’s whisper reaches me, barely audible. “Don’t fight the truth, Cyra. Use it.”
I’ve spent my whole life surviving by staying small. This is the first time survival demands that I be seen.
I take a breath and step forward. “You’re … right.”
The room shifts. Even Lord Castor looks surprised.
“I did hide,” I say. The words come slowly at first, like I’m finding them as I speak. “Whatever remnants of the Sun kingdom that remained after the very first outer rim attack … whatever my father built from the ashes, was destroyed after his death.” I meet Lord Castor’s eyes. “So yes. I hid … or else I would have been eliminated too. And yes, I’ve never governed a House. I’ve never negotiated a treaty or commanded a fleet or made decisions in rooms like this.”
I can feel Zevran watching me. Everyone is.
“But I do have experience,” I continue. My voice is steadier. “Just not the kind you’re used to counting.”
Lady Tavia tilts her head slightly. Lord Evander’s expression hasn’t changed, but he’s listening.
“I’ve spent years watching what decisions made in rooms like this do to the people living under your rule.” The words come faster now. “I’ve seen supply chains collapse because someone prioritized cost efficiency over reliability. I’ve treated miners with lung damage because safety inspections were delayed for the third quarter in a row.”
The silence in the room spurs me on.
