Page 22 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)
A gentle melody filtered through the air, gradually pulling me from the depths of sleep.
As my awareness sharpened, the room responded.
Calyx adjusted the room to a soft golden hue, simulating the natural progression of dawn.
The temperature subtly adjusted to my preferred morning warmth, while the shades retracted, unveiling the skyline and the Auriel Span, bridging the western residential districts to the Core Sector.
The Auriel Span’s frame bathed in the first light of day, proudly stretching over the sparkling waters of Iveris Sound.
I’d purchased my Sablestone five years prior based on that breathtaking view alone.
A delicate whir filled the air as my steamed vinterra blend with a hint of spice was brewed in the galley, the aroma drifting toward me.
I stretched, pushing off the haze as I sat up. “Yes, Calyx.”
As I moved toward my kinetic suite, Bellam’s voice filled the room, bright and full of energy.
“Isara! Tonight is the night! Your Court Date with Maxim! You’re going to be stunning, obviously, but more importantly, you’re going to experience that feeling in real life, the one you’ve been waiting for.
I’m dying to hear every detail in the morning. Don’t keep me waiting!”
I smiled. Bellam’s enthusiasm was positively infectious.
Calyx continued with the next message. Lourdes’s voice was smoother, laced with amusement.
“A thousand apologies, I was detained when you called. I have a feeling I know what it was about. Roan? He’s been an absolute disaster, by the way.
Completely beside himself, racking his brain over how to win Bellam over.
Honestly, I don’t blame her. It’s absurd.
What exactly does he think will come of it?
Anyway, I know your Court Date is tonight, so call me when you can. No rush… it’s Roan, after all.”
Calyx transitioned as I stepped into the kinetic suite, a spacious chamber designed for optimal movement and resistance training.
The walls adjusted in response to my settings, displaying a serene, panoramic landscape—today, a mist-covered mountain range.
The floor beneath me modified, fine-tuning the resistance based on my selected regimen.
I began with dynamic stretches, my muscles warming as the suite’s AI subtly corrected my posture where needed.
Then, Calyx initiated a low-gravity sequence, allowing me to move through a simulated resistance field, engaging muscles more efficiently than traditional weight training.
My pulse quickened as I transitioned into kinetic combat drills.
Fluid, precise movements designed to enhance reflexes and strength.
As I completed the session, the air in the suite cooled marginally, encouraging a gradual return to resting heart rate. A chime signaled completion. “Wellness session concluded. Optimal performance levels achieved,” Calyx affirmed.
Breathless but invigorated, I made my way toward the acquell, ready for the Hydrabay that awaited me.
Steam curled through the air, the water already adjusted to my preferred temperature.
The moment my feet touched the heated floor, a subtle wave of warmth traveled up my legs, an automatic response from the system to prevent the early-morning chill from shocking my body.
I exhaled deeply. Tonight. I’d waited for this moment for what felt like forever. My fingers curled into my palms as I let the hot water soothe away the nerves tightening in my chest.
By the time I stepped out, my focus had sharpened.
“Calyx, pull up my top five dress selections and begin preparation for breakfast. Something light,” I instructed, wrapping myself in a plush robe.
The interface blinked to life before me, following as I descended the stairs.
A translucent panel displayed the five elegant options I’d settled on days before, and after a few moments of decision, I gestured to the one I kept returning to: a black dress with structured lines, the fabric firm yet supple beneath my fingers.
The steep V-neck plunged just enough to hint at softness without surrendering to it, a contrast to the high collar framing my throat.
The bodice featured lythera detail, sculpted and precise, and molded to my waist before falling into a sleek mid-calf—modern, but not ostentatious.
The shoulders were sharply defined, lifting subtly at the seams, giving the illusion of quiet power, control held in check.
Three-quarter length sleeves hugged my arms, fitted but not restrictive, emphasizing movement with intention.
The balance of structure and fluidity made the dress feel like an extension of me, elegant and composed in every line.
It was a dress meant to be noticed but not questioned, a careful balance of confidence and decorum.
The pointed, closed-toed heels added a final touch, their silhouette elongating the line of my legs without veering into extravagance.
A rendering of myself, poised yet neutral, appeared in the center of the interface, slowly rotating in a perfect three-sixty, showcasing the ensemble from all angles. It was stunning, and undeniably me.
“Confirm selection,” I said, allowing Calyx a microsecond to process the request. “Now, hair options.”
The savory aroma of warmed herbs and delicate spices filled the air just before a tone notified me that my truffle-infused soufflé was ready.
I retrieved the dish and dainware, carrying them to the galley island.
I took small bites, my focus still on the interface as the display shifted to present several hairstyles tailored to complement the dress.
I studied them, narrowing my eyes. “Loose, textured curls.”
“Confirmed. Would you like facial aesthetic recommendations?”
I nodded, watching as options populated the display. Soft, natural dermatone. Subtle definition around my eyes. A plum gloss to add warmth.
“The first option,” I said. “And nails… something neutral, but polished.”
“Confirmed.”
Once my selections were finalized, I changed into something casual and stepped outside, drawn by the sound of Ibith’s laughter. She was playing in the courtyard with her Supplicant mina, Miuri, their matching smiles radiant under the midday sun.
“Ibith,” I greeted warmly. “Hi there!”
Ibith spun around, breathless from play, her caramel curls loose and bouncing at her shoulders.
“Good morning, Miuri,” I said with a nod.
Miuri turned, already smiling. It always struck me how Ibith bore a resemblance to her mina. Miuri’s dark curls were loosely gathered at the nape of her neck, a few tendrils catching the light. “Hello, Isara. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” She smiled when I nodded in agreement.
Ibith beamed up at me, then darted off to chase a floating ring of holographic butterflies. Miuri watched her go, then turned back to me with tender appreciation. “Thank you for explaining what happened with Mr. Nyland. You handled it perfectly.”
I exhaled slowly, remembering the day’s events. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted her to know, so I didn’t say much. I panicked, if you want to know the truth. I didn’t lie, but I only said what was necessary.”
She nodded, the hesitation in her eyes betraying the smoothness of her reply. “It helped.”
As Ibith giggled in the distance, I hesitated before voicing the question pressing at the back of my mind. “I can’t stop thinking about Mrs. Nyland… what became of her. If it had been you, if you didn’t have Ibith, what would you have chosen?”
Miuri’s expression wavered. “If I didn’t have Ibith… termination.”
“Why?” I pressed gently.
There was a beat of silence before she answered, her tone contrived, as if reciting from a textbook. “Hiven certainly live full lives as service Supplicants, but a companion Supplicant is created for a singular bond. Without our Sovereign, the bond is severed and our existence becomes… hollow.”
I nodded slowly. “What do you think happened to them?” I asked. “They used to be so happy. Or did I imagine that?”
Miuri was obviously uncomfortable with my questions, but to be polite, she obliged.
“They were. Things changed after their children passed. Under the Family Integration Protocol, they had already adopted two children within the required ten-year window. When they lost them, they sought an extension through the Sovereign Lineage Safeguard, hoping to adopt again, despite their window nearing its end. Their request for a third adoption was still under review. I suspect it had something to do with that.”
“I didn’t see them much after their little one’s funeral. I didn’t know it had gotten so… difficult between them.”
“Grief changes some,” Miuri said.
“I’m sure it does.” My gaze lingered on the Nylands’ empty home. “Two centuries after the Birth Crisis began, and it still doesn’t get easier. I just wish… I wish they could’ve leaned on each other through it. I’d never seen someone look as sad as Mrs. Nyland did that day.”
“Ibith, darling,” Miuri called. “It’s time for swim lessons!”
“But Mina! It’s not until later!” Ibith complained.
Miuri looked at me, sheepish about the small deception she was about to weave. “She’s been reluctant to leave the house lately. I find it’s easier to ease her into transitions rather than waiting until the last moment.”
“Of course,” I said, waving to Ibith as her mina guided her inside.
I turned back toward the Nylands’ home, its dark windows staring back in silent testimony to what had been lost. An ache settled in my chest as my gaze drifted to the towering wall beyond, its smooth, unbroken surface both a comfort and a cage.
Exhaling, I turned away and stepped inside, letting the panel seal me away from the unanswered questions lingering in the air.