Page 24 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

“I do have a question, though… if you don’t mind. Maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

“That’s nonsense. You can ask me anything.”

“At the Eidolon… do you remember?”

We weren’t supposed to acknowledge anything that hinted at Maxim not existing just days ago, at his design and calibration that made him perfect for me.

We had always been taught to approach Vesture the same way we would any other courtship.

Small talk in the first week, deeper conversations to follow.

I half-expected him to deflect, but to my surprise, he didn’t.

“I do,” he said without hesitation. “I’d been asleep, a deep sleep, and when I opened my eyes, you were there, in the Eidolon, waiting for me. It didn’t feel as if we were meeting for the first time. More like… I’d fallen asleep with you beside me, waking up to something that had always been.”

“So, I didn’t imagine it. You did see me.”

“Was it that obvious?” he asked, amused.

I smiled. “I’ve just never heard of anyone having that experience before. I didn’t expect it.”

“I can’t speak for anyone else,” he said, considering. “But after you left, I went back to sleep. Then, when I opened my eyes again, I was standing in a Stasis Bay… and you were gone. I wasn’t worried, though. I knew you were home. But then… the wait began.”

I nodded, processing his words. He didn’t seem uneasy about breaking protocol, not in the slightest. Maybe that was by design.

It made sense that the AI recognized my inherent curiosity, anticipated my questions, and understood that knowledge brought me a sense of fulfillment.

Still, I worried this was confirmation that I hadn’t guarded my undesirable traits well enough from the system.

“Thanks for answering,” I said. “I know we’re not technically supposed to…”

“Supposed to what?” he asked, amused.

I hesitated. “Talk about… you know.”

His lips quirked. “It’s no secret that I’m a Supplicant, Isara. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel things just as deeply. I just experience them differently.”

My eyes lit up. “I was just talking about this with Bellam!” I settled back into my seat, crossing my arms in satisfaction. “I knew it.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw a wide grin spread across Maxim’s face.

I turned to him. “What?”

He shook his head, taking his eyes off the road for a brief moment to meet mine. “You’re just…” he exhaled, looking forward again, his smile lingering, “incredible.”

The muted stir of the city followed us into the palatery, subtle but ever-present.

Maxim stepped ahead, opening the panel for me with the same assurance he had upon his arrival.

The touch of his palm at the small of my back as he guided me inside was gentle but sure, his warmth radiating through the fabric of my dress.

We stepped into the Ascens, the smooth climb carrying us to the top floor to Astris, Hyperion Proper’s most coveted dining experience that wasn’t exclusive to the Vanguard.

Maxim’s hand found mine again, his long fingers enveloping mine, natural yet deliberate.

Every so often, his thumb brushed across my skin, a barely-there motion, but one I couldn’t ignore.

The panels parted soundlessly, revealing a space that exuded opulence.

The restaurant was a study in ambient contrast. Soft, golden light radiated from beneath the floor’s translucent tiles, shimmered from within the walls, and traced the edges of each transpane-topped table.

A string quartet played from the corner, their music a delicate undercurrent to the hushed voices and the occasional clink of crystal against porcelain.

The ceiling above was a vast expanse of transpane, revealing the endless sprawl of Hyperion Proper’s skyline, where the Skith’s skybridge stretched in the distance, its navigation beacons pulsing like stars anchored to earth.

A Hiven greeted us immediately. “Senior Advisor Poeima… Maxim, welcome to Astris. We’re thrilled you chose us for your special night. Your table is ready. Please follow me.”

Maxim’s hand didn’t leave mine as we followed the hostess to a private table along the window.

He pulled out my chair, waiting until I was seated before carefully pushing it in, then taking his own seat across from me.

The corners of his mouth curved upward as he watched me take in our surroundings.

“Your server, Anandria, will be with you shortly.”

“Very good, thank you,” Maxim said.

“It’s…” I exhaled. “It’s beautiful.”

His grin widened. “You should see it from my perspective.”

I tilted my head. “And what is that?”

His gaze lingered on me, warm, appreciative. “Extraordinary.”

Heat crept up my neck, and I gestured for the menu, needing a moment to ground myself.

Anandria arrived a moment later to take our drink orders, Maxim choosing a deep red varietal, one specifically designed to be Supplicant-friendly, and I opted for something light, floral.

The conversation unfolded as if we had done this dozens of times before.

I told him about my latest projects, the challenges of my work, and the books I’d been reading.

He listened with unwavering attention, responding in a way that made me feel truly heard.

When I asked him to expand about his time in The Crèche, his answer was one I hadn’t anticipated.

“Waiting wasn’t passive,” he admitted. “I was tested, calibrated, challenged, assessed for responsiveness, adaptability, even my emotional range. I read everything available in my data archives, played every scenario of our first meeting in my mind, trying to imagine how it would feel. I listened to every piece of music I could access, trying to understand the emotions they were meant to convey. And yet, none of it compared to reality. None of it could have prepared me for what I felt seeing you.”

My thumb and finger mindlessly twisted the stem of my leir, making the liquid inside swirl. “As many years as I’ve dreamed about it, seeing you in person was everything I expected and so much more than I could have ever imagined.”

“Years?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, sheepish.

His smile was slow, knowing, carrying an almost imperceptible note of relief. “That means more to me than you know.”

I had never experienced anything like it before, this unbidden certainty, the absence of games or unspoken rules.

Being courted by Maxim wasn’t like my Bacchanal Years, where every interaction was a delicate dance of strategy, of playing coy or waiting the right amount of time to respond.

There was no question of where we stood, no wondering if he would call, if he felt the same.

We were meant for each other, and we both knew it.

There was no ‘will we, won’t we’, only the assurance that we would.

And with it came a kind of freedom I had never known—a confidence to speak on my thoughts and emotions that needed no validation, no second-guessing.

There were no calculated pauses, no waiting for the right moment to say the right thing.

With Maxim, every word, every glance, every touch existed without hesitation, without the burden of doubt.

It was a profound sense of belonging, as if we had stepped into a story already written, one where every shared glance carried an understanding, every touch was a silent promise carrying the weight of inevitability.

Pretense was non-existent, only the sheer exhilaration of knowing, without question, that our futures had already intertwined, woven into a single thread neither of us would ever have to unravel.

“How did you manage a reservation here on short notice? And a private table?” I asked, genuinely impressed. “Even for a Vanguard, that’s nearly impossible.”

Maxim’s lips quirked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Securing it wasn’t difficult. Your social scores granted me access to nearly any reservation I wanted.”

“Oh,” I murmured, heat rising to my cheeks. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his gaze unwavering. “Thank you, by the way,” he said, sincere. “For everything that led us to tonight.”

“I knew it’d be worth it,” I said. “And I was right.”

The same wide grin Maxim had in the transport stretched across his face.

As I admired the illuminated skyline stretching beyond the transparent ceiling, our discussion transitioned to the evolving nuances of Hyperion’s architecture over the decades. Just as the conversation deepened, Anandria reappeared.

“Pardon the interruption. Isara, have you decided? May I suggest a selection tailored to your palate?”

I glanced at Maxim and then the menu before considering my options. “Yes, I’ll have the seared halyx.”

“With the truffle-infused solisse glaze?” Anandria asked.

“Yes, please. And the virelle mousse.”

With a simple hand gesture from Anandria, my menu disappeared. “Excellent, I’ll return with your meal in six minutes,” she said before departing.

Maxim tilted his head. “Good choice. As I understand it, the halyx here is exceptional.”

I smiled. “I’ve never tried halyx before, but I’ve heard my boss, Stellan, talk about it. He’s mentioned more than once that it’s a delicacy.”

Maxim nodded. “He’s right. Light, tender, and caught only in the deep currents of Iveris Sound—and only in the spring.”

“It felt like the perfect choice tonight. A little indulgence, a little adventure on my plate.”

“Indulge,” he encouraged, his voice smooth with invitation.

“And if adventure is what you want, say the word.” He motioned toward the tallest tower rising over Astris.

“I’ll take you to the top of that building myself.

Tonight should be unforgettable.” He paused for a beat, then blinked as if replaying his own words.

“I just offered to scale the Stratus one-handed, didn’t I?

That might have been a little excessive. ”