Page 17 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

Our laughter filled the space between us, warm and unguarded. For all the expectations, for all the responsibilities and calculated steps, there were still these moments—unscripted, irreverent, and purely ours.

A translucent pane of soft light materialized between us, awaiting our input. Halcyon’s AI server smiled, greeting us in its melodic, neutral voice.

“Welcome to Halcyon, Senior Advisor Poeima and Avaryn. It’s good to see you again. Are you ready to order, or would you like a few more minutes?”

Avaryn leaned forward, her eyes flicking across the menu projected onto the interface. “A chamomile and honey infusion. Hot, please,” she said.

“And for you, Isara? Your usual?” the AI prompted, shifting its luminous frame toward me.

“Yes, please. Vanilla chai, no foam,” I responded.

“Anything else? May I suggest a cloud loaf or a lighter choice, our grainless bowl, using textural enhancements of crisped lentil sheets, root fiber curls, and roasted fungi strands.”

“Just the drinks for now, thank you,” I said.

“Acknowledged. Your beverages will arrive shortly.”

The interface dissolved as smoothly as it had appeared, leaving only the gentle murmur of conversation and the occasional chime of ceramic against polished composite in its wake.

Avaryn smirked, propping her chin on her hand.

“If our great-great-grandparents knew we could just talk to thin air for food and drinks to be delivered by tech, they’d drop dead a second time. ”

I laughed, shaking my head. “They’d probably insist it was witchcraft.”

We continued chatting, slipping between casual gossip and work stories when she suddenly stiffened, her gaze drifting past me toward the window.

“Isara, look,” she whispered.

I followed her line of sight and froze.

Joss stood about five meters away, motionless.

He had clearly stopped in his tracks the moment he saw us.

The intensity of his stare hit me before I could think, before I could breathe.

Joss lifted a hand in a sheepish wave, the corner of his mouth pulling into something uncertain. My pulse stuttered.

Avaryn waved enthusiastically, leaning toward the window.

She exhaled onto the transpane, fogging up a small patch before tracing a backward Hi!

with the tip of her finger. I managed a slower response.

He hesitated, then pointed to the entrance of Halcyon.

Avaryn nodded, prompting him to make his way inside and toward our table.

Joss was still ruggedly handsome, his bronze skin glowing rather than weathered from working long days under the sun in The Vale.

He was often mistaken for a Supplicant, his features and physique too perfect, his expression just unreadable enough to make Sovereign second-guess.

His dark blond hair was kept short, neat, but still held a gentle unruliness as if resisting perfect order.

And his eyes—striking, glacial blue—held too much depth to be anything but undeniably sentient.

“Hey,” he said, wary. “I, uh, I wasn’t expecting to run into you.”

Avaryn grinned. “Well, this just got interesting,” she said, her voice soaked in amusement.

With a mock-innocent expression, she pushed back her chair and stood.

“The aquell calls,” she added, gesturing subtly toward the corridor lined with frosted panels—Hyperion’s sleek answer to signage for what was once, amusingly enough called a restroom .

As if anyone was ever there to rest. The euphemisms of the past had always struck me as oddly optimistic.

Avaryn turned with a wink. “Behave… or don’t.”

I shot my baby sister a glare as she walked away, but Avaryn didn’t seem to mind. When I turned back to Joss, he was shifting his weight, looking more unsure than I’d ever seen him.

“Would you like to sit?” I offered.

He hesitated before nodding. “I… Yes, I would, thank you.”

He lowered himself into the seat Avaryn had abandoned, his hands lacing together on the table. “So, uh… how… how have you been?” he asked.

I could’ve given him the standard answer. Good, busy, preparing for my extended leave, but something about the way he looked at me made me hesitate. Instead, I exhaled and shrugged. “I’m managing.”

He nodded, glancing at the tabletop, then back at me. “I’ve been down this street dozens of times, hoping I’d run into you. Never thought I actually would.”

I blinked. “Why?”

His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “It’s Avaryn’s favorite, and you meet here a lot. And because I knew you were finalizing your Veritas year.”

“What about it?”

“You want the truth or the feel-good answer?”

He’d said that to me countless times when we were together, stirring a deep, lingering nostalgia that echoed through my senses.

“Always the truth,” I said, which he expected. I’d never asked for the feel-good option.

“That it’s now or never for us.”

An exponent arrived at our table, setting down the drinks Avaryn and I had ordered. Despite its silence and proficiency, Joss’s expression flickered with mild annoyance at the disruption, his jaw tense. Sensing this, the server gave a slight nod and pivoted before gliding away.

“It’s just doing its job, Joss, you could be more—”

“My Veritas started two months ago,” he blurted out.

His words scattered my thoughts like a gust of wind through an open room.

The Veritas year and Oathbond always aligned with one’s birthday, so, of course, he had started his.

A strange unease crept in as I imagined him answering the same questions I had—mapping his attachments, his desires, his boundaries—and wondering if I would have ever fit within them.

I’d been so consumed with my own, with Maxim, that I hadn’t considered what it would be like to see Joss someday, somewhere, standing beside someone else, bound to a life I would never be part of.

He grinned. “I know that look. It didn’t take me long to realize that with every answer, I was just trying to recreate another you.”

I crossed my arms, trying to maintain composure. The conversation alone could get us both an infraction, and I shook my head, begging him with my eyes to stop.

“I don’t care. About any of it. We don’t have much time.

I needed you to know, before your Oathbond, that…

I’m not sure I want to go through with it.

I’ve been thinking about going home. Back to The Vale.

I couldn’t call or come by. You know we aren’t allowed to date during our Veritas year, and with our history, I couldn’t chance it, for either of us.

But… I had to see you before it was too late.

I’ve worked harder than any other Auren to succeed here, to prove I belong, and I did, Isara.

I’ve rubbed elbows with Vanguard, Citadel officials, even the Ethics Council, but the deeper I got, the more I learned things I probably shouldn’t know.

You don’t belong here, Isara. You belong in The Vale, with me. ”

The meaning behind his words settled like a stone in my stomach. My fingers curled against the table as I shook my head, cautioning him once again to be careful. The network was always listening, flagging certain words and phrases for review. “Joss, don’t. You—”

He exhaled sharply as if he already regretted saying his next words. “If I do—” He swallowed, his fingers flexing against the tabletop. “If I go back, would you go with me?”

The space between us grew fragile, stretched taut with things unsaid.

My mind scrambled for an answer, for something safe.

Even if we hadn’t officially met, Maxim was my future, the life I had envisioned, the path I had methodically chosen.

Yet, a part of me still ached for Joss. Leaving with him to The Vale wouldn’t just alter that future, it would dismantle it, unraveling everything I had built.

I parted my lips, but no words came. My thoughts splintered, any response dissolving before it could form.

I couldn’t hurt him, and I couldn’t say yes.

“So?” Avaryn said, shooing him out of her seat. “What did I miss?”

Joss stood beside me, his gaze heavy with longing, the silent plea in his eyes more potent than any words he could have spoken.

“I… I can’t. I’m so sorry,” I said.

His expression slowly fell. The hopeful glimmer in his eyes extinguished, his lips pressing into a thin, unsteady line, as if holding back something unbearable.

Avaryn’s gaze darted between us, her amusement fading as she registered the tension lingering in the air.

He nodded once and stepped back, hesitating for just a few seconds before finally turning and walking away.

“What did you say to him?” Avaryn said, her tone accusatory.

I shook my head, holding my fingers to my mouth, unable to answer.

“Isara…”

“I’ll explain later, but I have one of the most important meetings of my life in an hour. Right now, I just need you to be my sister. Change the subject, make me laugh, do whatever it takes to make me forget that just happened, okay? Avaryn… please?”

Avaryn studied me for a moment, then gave a slow nod. A beat later, she straightened, slipping effortlessly into her role, ready to pull me back from the edge even if she didn’t understand why. Because a sister’s love doesn’t require understanding, only the refusal to let you fall alone.

“Okay. I’ve got this,” she said.

I sat up, nodding.

“It’s the only thing that can possibly do the trick, it’s verified, and when I say it, you’re going to simply pass away.”

“Whatever it is, just… say it,” I said, feeling I was on the verge of tears.

“Cressida was at a Vanguard party a few weeks ago.”

“I have no idea how your best friend got into a Vanguard party, but keep going.”

“Trust me, she did. She tried to get me in, too. So, she stumbles into a random somna, and under the sheets are two Vanguards. Both in their Veritas year.”

“You’re lying!”

Avaryn shook her head, and then a mischievous grin lit up her face. “And… they’re cousins.”

I gasped, flattening my palms on the table and then leaning in. “Okay, you’re really good at this. Tell me everything .”