Too late.
“Forgive me, Father. That was an unseemly display.”
Auryn folded her hands before her, tucking them tightly, as if to contain the rush of emotion she’d just exposed.
But the smile never left Shu’Khan’s face. Even as he stood, even as he sank leisurely back into the cushions of the divan, he smiled.
“You are radiant,” he said, his voice lowered like silk over coals. “Never apologize for such a thing.”
The flicker of his eyes warmed—not just with admiration, but with somethingpersonal. Possessive.
“We were afraid,” he continued, “that We would not see your fire again after the attack in the Commons.”
Auryn’s breath stilled.
“To think Our Sokâr might be harmed, even while surrounded by a flank of Reskala…” He shook his head with slow disdain. “If there is anything unseemly, it is that fact alone.”
He let the silence hover like a veiled question.
“Are you…alright?” he asked then, softer. “Your wounds have healed, of course. But your mind…your soul. That kind of violence—does it linger?”
It lingers, and I do love witnessing it with you in your dreams.
She hesitated, then nodded once.
“It was frightening,” she admitted. “But the Resh’Agar was there.”
A spark of something unreadable flickered behind Shu’Khan’s eyes at the slip of that name. But he did not comment on it directly.
“Yes,” he said instead. “Iridias did well. He always does. Certainly, he keeps a watch over you that is… unparalleled in its devotion.” Then, delicately, he added, “Though We are concerned that it may affect his performance in Estâr.”
Auryn steadied herself.
“Father,” she said, voice even, “is Estâr truly necessary?”
He leaned back into the cushions like an exasperated mentor.
“This again,” he drawled.
“As often as needed,” she replied, calm but resolute, “until you see my truth.”
Their eyes met. Held. The hearth crackled. And in that pause, the balance of power tilted—neither wholly one nor the other’s.
“The Estâr is convoluted and ancient,” Auryn said, lifting her chin. “It is not needed.”
She stood taller with each breath, each word steady. “I have presented the research. The data. Many times. But the Council does not read my reports. They do not listen.”
Shu’Khan stroked his chin, gaze unreadable. “And you believe thatWeshall?”
“I believe,” she replied, “that if you truly want this city to see my light, then you understand that the Companions have taken too much power. Even from your hands. Their influence is too great. They do not speak at Council, but they fan the flames behind it.”
He paused, the motion of his fingers stilling. “You do make a tempting point.”
Turning away, he moved back toward the fluxhearth, its flame dancing like a thing alive. He stood before it in utter stillness. So long that Auryn began to wonder if he even breathed.
Then, at last, a soft exhale.
“Let Us try it, then,” he said. “For a time.”
