Page 12 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

“Welcome home, Isara,” Calyx intoned, his voice a smooth, low baritone, measured, refined, and confident, like a seasoned narrator delivering a private reading.

It carried warmth without weight, designed to be present without intruding, a voice I’d carefully chosen for its balance of competence and familiarity.

“ Your evening meal remains at ideal temperature. Your requested garment refresh has been completed. Would you like a report on today’s deliveries? ”

I exhaled slowly, setting my tresset down on the pale quartz counter. “Yes, Calyx.”

“Mr. Poeima’s Stasis Bay will arrive within the hour.”

I froze. Calyx didn’t mean my papa. He meant Maxim. My heart stuttered in my chest before picking up its pace. “That’s… sooner than expected.”

“The Office of Integration has dispatched Hiven to arrive shortly to complete the installation and ensure proper incorporation.”

I nodded, but my hand trembled as I reached for a leir of water. It was happening. Soon, Maxim would be here, not just a projection of what I had imagined, but someone to hold me, to converse with, to do life alongside me, something I hadn’t experienced in over a year.

I moved through the open layout of my Sablestone, letting my fingers trail along the smooth, self-repairing surfaces.

The living space was airy and spacious, bathed in a gentle, diffused incandescence.

My dining area overlooked the community’s shared green space, and for a moment, I felt a sense of peace.

It reminded me of Joss’s descriptions of The Vale: simple, natural, untouched, offering a small but reliable comfort.

I set about my usual evening routine, trying to shake off the restless energy simmering beneath my skin.

The low whir of the galley units relieved the silence as Calyx directed the preparation of a simple fare.

Even as the smell of spices filled the room, my mind remained unsettled, replaying the scene outside.

After eating, I placed my plate into the cleansing alcove, where a barely audible click signaled the start of an ultrasonic rinse; no water, no harsh scrubbing, just a near-invisible vibration that lifted every particle of debris before sterilizing the surface.

The plate would be cataloged, stacked, and returned to its designated place.

As the process ran, I tidied the living space, smoothing the cushions on the sofa, and directed Calyx to shift the center table’s opacity, subtly concealing the interface beneath its surface as the room settled into evening.

I stood in my living space, mindlessly tracing the edge of my leir with my fingertip as I waited for the Hiven to arrive.

The room was silent except for the electrostatic whisper of Hyperion’s energy grid lightly pulsing beneath the floors, making my thoughts seem loud.

I moved to the mirror, hesitating before glancing up, as if I might catch a glimpse of what Maxim had seen in me during my Eidolon.

At just over a meter and a half, my frame was delicate but not fragile.

My straight, black hair, once cut into a sharp bob, had begun to curl under at the ends as it grew out, tempering the severity of its once-blunt shape.

My bangs hovered at my cheekbones, swept to the side, framing the blue-gray of my eyes, a flawless blend of my mixed lineage, inheriting my papa’s sharp, almond eyes, though softened by my mina’s traits into a more rounded shape.

My features were fine, my nose small, my lips full but balanced against the heart shape of my face.

Naturally long lashes framed my gaze, giving me an air of assurance I sometimes wished I fully possessed.

I had never struggled to draw attention, but for the first time, I wondered about perception in a different way. Would we fit together? When others saw us, would it make sense?

Calyx’s voice filled the space, smooth and even. “Isara, the Hiven have arrived.”

I turned from the mirror, exhaling as I said, “Perfect. Let them in.”

The Hiven maneuvered the sleek, curved Stasis Bay through the threshold and up the stairs with unified coordination.

Every motion seemed choreographed, their efficiency so absolute it barely seemed like work at all.

They installed the bay in my somna, just under two meters from my bed, then calibrated it to synchronize with my home’s existing systems. Panels retracted, connections aligned, and within moments, the bay became an extension of the room itself, as if it had always belonged there.

I watched them complete the final calibrations, confirming every detail aligned with Hyperion’s exacting standards.

My breath shallow, excitement thrumming beneath my skin, only one thought cut through the rush of emotion—in less than five weeks, my home would no longer be mine alone; it would be ours.

As the Hiven offered their polite goodbyes and left, I stepped out onto my balcony, watching as the Reg transports finally pulled away. Mrs. Nyland stood near her threshold, wrapped in the same blanket, staring at the empty space where her husband had been.

I lifted a hand in a small wave. She didn’t return it.

A question gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. What would happen to her now? Historically, no Supplicant ever petitioned for recasting upon the death of their Sovereign, but Mrs. Nyland had been mistreated. What would she choose? The thought made my chest tighten.

I wanted to know. But in Hyperion, some questions were better left unasked.

“Isara,” Calyx said, startling me. “You have an incoming call from Velkyn Poeima.”

I exhaled, rubbing my temples before nodding. “Put him through.”

A chime filled the room before my papa’s voice replaced it. “Finally. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

“I’ve missed one call from you,” I said, smiling despite myself. “And I was in transit. Did you just get back from The Vale? I thought you weren’t back until tomorrow.”

“A few hours ago. Your sister’s antics required an early departure.”

I sighed, already bracing myself. “What did she do this time?”

“She’s been deducted a full social point,” he said, the exhaustion clear in his voice. “Apparently, she told a Vanguard at the gala last night that her speech was ‘dreadfully uninspired.’ In those exact words.”

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh, Avaryn.”

“ Oh, Avaryn ?” he repeated, incredulous. “She’s going to get herself in serious trouble one of these days. Do you know how difficult it is to explain to a Vanguard why your daughter thinks they lack rhetorical flair?”

“To be fair, some of them do,” I teased, leaning back against the counter. “I see her honesty as a gift.”

“Her gift is disruption,” he corrected. “And since I am at my wits’ end, I’m delegating this to you. Talk to her, Isara. Soon. She listens to you.”

I shook my head, still smiling. “That’s a bold assumption.”

“At least try. Before she ends up losing more than just a social point.”

I sighed, knowing I’d agree before he even finished his sentence. “Fine. I’ll ask her to brunch on Monday, when she’s somewhat rested after her wildly extended birthday celebrations.”

“Thank you. Now, tell me, how is everything else?” For the first time since the call began, I could hear the genuine concern beneath his usual exasperation. I knew what he meant. He was very aware I was at the end of my Veritas Protocol.

I looked toward the Stasis Bay, the first undeniable proof that Maxim’s arrival was imminent. A current of anticipation ran through me. “The Hiven just completed an exciting delivery.”

“Oh? More than one Hiven. That must mean the Stasis Bay. That’s… satisfactory, I hope?”

“You could say that.”

Papas didn’t particularly enjoy discussing the completion of a Veritas.

It inevitably led to thoughts of an Oathbond and everything that came with it, specifically intimacy.

And while few outside of close friends spoke of it openly, every Sovereign with a Supplicant understood that part of the bond was incomparable.

A partner designed entirely around your pleasure, with no expectations of their own, an end to the pressures of performative sex—only unwavering devotion.

Gratification didn’t even begin to describe it.

Nothing any papa wanted to dwell on.

“We’ll be very happy.”

“You and…”

“Maxim.”

“Yes. Maxim.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

He chuckled. “I can’t wait for you to meet him. Well, actually, I can.”

A laugh erupted from my chest. “I’m going to be so happy, Papa. Things are… changing. In a good way.”

“Good,” he said, his voice warm. “You deserve nothing less, kitten.”

“I delivered a speech yesterday. All thirteen council members were there, dozens of the Vanguard, and the Primarch and Minister, too.”

He choked for a few seconds before responding. “What kind of speech?”

“It was supposed to be my usual talk on statistics, but… I’d just finished my Eidolon, and… I spoke on that.”

“And?”

“Sorran and Jhendai came over after. They want a meeting. They loved it and want to hear more about my perspective.”

“Isara… I’m so proud! That’s wonderful! You’re sure they were happy? You were cautious?”

“I’m sure, Papa. You have nothing to worry about.”

He sighed. “I always knew you were capable of great things, but this”—his voice wavered, pride woven into every word—“A meeting with Chiron and Artemis? That’s not just an honor, Isara. That’s influence.”

I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest. “I know.”

“You’re stepping into something bigger now,” he continued, a thoughtful pause stretching between us. “And I know you, Isara. You’ve always been wise with your words, but don’t let them mold you into something you’re not. Speak your truth. Carefully, of course.”

“I’ll carefully do my best,” I assured him.

He exhaled, the tension in his voice fading. “Good. Now, tell me. When is your Courting Commencement Date? I need time to prepare for the inevitable discomfort of knowing my daughter will no longer be living alone.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “One major milestone at a time, Papa.”

As the call ended, I let out a breath, already thinking of what I’d say to my sister. I’d have to find the right balance between guidance and letting her remain exactly who she was. And somehow, that felt far more daunting than a meeting with Chiron and Artemis.