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Next to Daxo and Sevro, both in their prime, he looks pale and old. Even his genes can’t hide the ravages of war. His beard has gone white. He still blames himself

for Pax’s abduction. It has not been an easy road to recovery for him, but he favors me with a smile. “Niobe is off to Mars to rendezvous with our house fleets and the Ecliptic Guard,” he says. “She sends her love, and she’ll see you through the fires of the Annihilo.”

“And the bodies,” Sevro says. “Never forget the kindling.”

“Of course! The bodies,” Kavax says. “Sevro, could you fetch my cane? My legs ache.”

“Slag off, old man. I’m not a servant. I’m a terrorist war—”

“Now!” Kavax booms. “It’s just outside the Crescent Vault. Fetch it or Sophocles will bite you!”

“By myself? That place is creepy shit. Fine. Losing your marbles.” Muttering to himself, Sevro humors the old man and leaves the Sphere. He appears a moment later. “I’ll know if you talk about me.” He leaves again.

The two Telemanuses wait for him to reappear. When he doesn’t, they join me in the center. “We’ll bring Thraxa home,” I tell Kavax. “I will keep that promise.”

Kavax glances once more at the door to make sure Sevro is gone. “There are things I doubt in this world,” he replies in his luxurious private tone. Intelligence radiates from eyes usually misted by his lifelong ruse. “The constitution of Obsidian virtues, the ramifications of universal suffrage, Sevro’s personal hygiene, my violence on behalf of your father, my wife’s mental perspicacity for selecting me for life”—he adopts his public face—“to join in union a doddering madman! Weird woman! Addled in the wits! Madness! Absolute madness!” His internal cleverness reclaims his face. “But never Virginia au Augustus.” He cups my face. “Daxo told me what you did with Dancer. What you did with Sevro. You never get the credit you deserve, my dear. Because people are suspect and frightened of what they do not understand. I’ve hidden myself for so many years—from Nero, from the world. But you never have. That is a bravery I cannot understand. You are good, my dear. You are patient when it is not in your nature. You are attentive when you are taken for granted. You are kind when the world insists it is convenient to be cruel. You are good. True good. Victra will bring Pax back. I know this. You will save your husband. You deserve this day.”

I nod, knowing there’s much work left to do.

“No, look at me, child.” He turns my chin so that I look deep into the eyes underneath those tangled eyebrows. “It has possessed my thoughts. You deserve this day. You deserve this joy. You deserve this proof that your faith is not just right, but necessary.”

I find myself in tears, and I can’t reason why. There are things you know, but when revealed to be known by others can make the world shine in a peculiar way. I feel seen, as only my husband has ever seen me. Kavax dabs the tears away. “There, there,” he says, bringing me into a hug. I’ve been too busy to see Kavax. Or maybe just too frightened to see him weak. How dare I presume his strength is in his body. I hug him hard and Sophocles paws my leg in jealousy. Always mindful of his father, Daxo scoops the fox up to give us the moment.

“Will you come today?” I ask, pulling away.

“No,” Kavax says. “No, I am tired of all this rancor. I think I will go to the sea with Sophocles. I don’t like the Citadel without Niobe.” He takes Sophocles back from Daxo. “And I’ve been promising this one a swim, haven’t I, and you know how passive-aggressive the little prince gets. Yes, he does. Yes, he does. Shit in my shoes! In my closet! Everywhere!” He open-mouth kisses the fox, who takes perhaps too much enjoyment from it.

“But we will have dinner tonight at my estate. A family dinner. For my son”—he sets a hand on Daxo’s shoulder—“who has done himself proud, resurrected his family’s honor, and whom I could not be happier for. Except if he found a wife! I want babies to ride Sophocles! Or a husband!” He covers Sophocles’s ears. “Cloning is always an option, remember.” He laughs to himself. “And my daughter will come too”—he looks at me—“for she has been the twinkle in my eye since that summer she joined our family.” Sevro appears in the door. “The sea!” Kavax booms. “To the sea I go.”

“Here’s your stupid cane,” Sevro says.

“I need no cane! What am I, an invalid? A dullard?” Kavax booms. “I just wanted to see if you’d get it. Now who is the dullard! Ha!”

“Man.” Sevro chuckles. “You’re so crazy.”

After Kavax has sauntered away with his pet, Daxo makes a small noise of distaste. “That was emotional. I hope he’s not dying.”

“He’s not. I just think he’s finally realized he’s mortal,” I say.

“I think we should clone him,” Sevro says.

“Jove. The fox is bad enough,” I say.

“Yes, but could you imagine a child Kavax with that beard?” Sevro asks. “He’d be a right legend. He could marry Electra!” I make a face. “What? She can’t marry Pax. No offense, but he’s too smart. And my girl likes being stupid.” He scratches his goatee. “Bet Mickey would do it. We’d need to keep it secret. Yes.” He chews his lip in thinking over the logistics.

“I could raise him,” Daxo says. “I have always wanted a worthy child to shape and mold.”

Sevro and I look at each other. “Nah, prolly a bad idea,” Sevro says. “You know, clones are creepy and all. Always something wrong with the human ones.” Daxo is lost, peering at the ceiling in thought. Behind his back, Sevro makes a big X with arms at the cloning idea.

“Be careful on Earth,” I say. “Old Tokyo is Warden territory. Get in. Get out. And bring me that Queen’s head.”

“Attached?”

“If possible. If not, permission to cauterize. And, would you mind taking the tunnels out, please.”

“Done.” He lurches forward to slap Daxo’s ass and stalks out. The smell of wolf lingers.

“I have thought it over. I think I would be a good father,” Daxo says at last. “After all, I have a fine example to follow.”