Page 48 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

“For those who prefer a mix of luxury and sport, Auburn Downs is nestled within a sprawling landscape of lush greenery and manicured golf courses. This resort caters to couples who enjoy both relaxation and the challenge of a round of golf. With a state-of-the-art course designed by world-renowned architects, Auburn Downs offers private lessons, exclusive tournaments, and scenic fairways. The resort also includes intimate dining spots overlooking the greens, a wellness center with hydrotherapy treatments, and peaceful walking paths through the extensive gardens. For couples seeking a superior, yet active Accordance resort experience, Auburn Downs is the perfect destination.”

Avaryn made a face. “These are really all we have? Horrible!”

“We stayed at the Auburn Downs, and as I recall, it was quite lovely,” Mina noted, her amusement clear, but so was the gentle warning in her eyes.

“Doesn’t look like they’ve added any new features since then,” Avaryn muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Papa mused, pushing up his glasses. “It’s Hyperion. Progress is the pulse that keeps it alive.”

For the first time, I detected disdain in his voice, subtle but unmistakable, as though the shine of Hyperion’s ideals had dulled in his eyes.

He had grown increasingly drawn to The Vale in the years following his retirement from Hyperion, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that had something to do with it—if, perhaps, he had begun to see The Vale as something more intrinsic to what life was meant to be.

I dared not ask. Papa had always nurtured my curiosity, never seeking to suppress it, teaching me when to guard my questions rather than voice them.

Maxim gave a thoughtful nod. “Well said. Progress sustains a city. Stability ensures growth without erasing what came before,” he said, his tone warm. “The Vale embodies that balance, adapting while holding on to what makes it strong. There’s something to be said for endurance, too.”

Papa leaned forward for a beat, his eyes lighting up as he pointed to Maxim. “Precisely! I’ve been saying it for years. It’s not just about moving forward, it’s about knowing what’s worth carrying with you. Too many forget that.”

Mina chuckled, but there was caution in her eyes.

“Careful now,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder as if the walls themselves could listen.

“Hyperion isn’t built on sentiment, and its foundation is best left unquestioned.

” Her gaze flicked to Maxim, assessing. “Progress isn’t just encouraged, it’s expected.

Comparisons can be interpreted in ways one didn’t intend. ”

Avaryn exhaled sharply, sinking back into her seat. “This entire conversation belongs in Othello ,” she grumbled.

I shot Avaryn a warning glance before turning back to my parents with a smile. “Maxim and I have talked about visiting The Vale. Maybe we’ll spend a day of our Accordance there.”

Mina’s hand pressed lightly to her chest. “Isara, what are you thinking? You know that’s impossible. Besides putting yourselves in unnecessary danger—”

Avaryn sighed, her tone edged with frustration. “Mina, do you always have to assume the worst? The Vanguard boys do it all the time.”

“Maxim would keep me safe,” I assured them.

Papa patted Avaryn’s knee, his voice gentle but firm.

“She’s not being negative, Mi?a. Your mina is right.

The Vanguard boys don’t bring along their accordants.

Hiven for protection during travel, maybe, but they aren’t allowed inside The Vale’s boundary fence for more than an hour or two.

Nothing is guaranteed outside the wall, and The Vale would forbid Maxim to stay overnight.

Even if they did, it wouldn’t be possible. There are no Stasis Bays there.”

“Really?” Avaryn turned to Mina, the edge in her voice fading just enough to betray what I already knew—no matter how much she pretended perpetual annoyance, she always looked to Mina for the truth.

Mina’s smile was gentle. “Really.”

Maxim rested his hand over mine, turning to me with a hint of perplexity in his expression. “Mi?a? As in…?”

I bit back a laugh. “Yes, and she hates it,” I said through my teeth, leaning toward Maxim.

Mina had given Avaryn the name shortly after she’d arrived from The Cradle, a tender echo of the heritage still visible in her own design.

Her sculpted cheekbones, sharply defined nose, and cool-toned features reflected the aesthetic preferences preserved from a distant, frost-lined region of the old world.

There was an air of regality to her, a beauty made striking not by embellishment, but by balance—angles softened by elegance, presence deepened by restraint.

Papa, taken with the name, had never stopped using it.

Avaryn once answered to it instinctively, but at some point, she decided that little bear wasn’t so cute after all.

Avaryn’s years of protest had done little to dissuade our papa, but should he ever stop using it, I had a feeling she’d miss it more than she’d admit.

“Surely they can figure something out,” Avaryn said. “And honestly, Papa, you could absolutely help them. You were the Chief Liaison of Technological Affairs. Problem-solving was basically your whole job.”

“You assume too quickly they’d welcome that change, Avaryn,” Papa cautioned, warmth still threading through his tone.

Avaryn huffed but didn’t argue. He’d used her actual name, after all.

Maxim, instinctively mindful of diplomacy, spoke up.

“I may have a solution that satisfies everyone. Since The Vale holds significant interest for Isara, we’ll make a day of it, however many times it takes.

We’ll explore something new for an hour each trip, and I’ll see to her safety while ensuring we return on time.

Given that we have thirty days after our Oathbond before she returns to work, I want to give her every moment she desires there. ”

Papa was unconvinced. “Maxim, no matter how capable you are, you can’t guarantee her safety.”

“But you go all the time, you—” I began.

“Isara,” Papa interjected. “I remain within the confines of The Vale. Repetition invites probability. The more frequently you venture out, the greater the statistical likelihood you’ll encounter something…

problematic. The only other option would be for Maxim to leave you there alone overnight, to then attempt to return to Hyperion Proper or fend for himself in the wilderness.

Not all of our Hiven survive those trips.

I can’t imagine that would be worth the risk to you. ”

My shoulders sagged. “So, what you’re saying is that Maxim and I will never be able to go.”

Maxim turned to me, his expression thoughtful. “We could camp at the top of Smith Rock. We’d have the high ground. Leave at first light, cut the climb down by half with you strapped to my back, and be back before my QKF Core depletes.”

Papa leaned forward, impatience creeping into his expression. Few had ever defied him. Maxim, however unintentionally, was doing so now in his attempt to spare me from disappointment.

“I understand your desire to make her happy, Maxim, truly,” Papa began.

“I feel the same for Noryn. Perhaps when you’re a papa, you’ll understand.

But I’m afraid not even a Reg could guarantee safety beyond the wall after sunset.

Sovereigns have tested every conceivable method to survive overnight conditions, and not once in my lifetime has it ended in anything but failure.

I wish you could somehow see it together, I do.

But any attempt would be a mistake with no second chances, no matter how capable you may be. ”

He turned to me, his gaze heavy with warning.

“Before you were born, a Vanguard boy, Croix Ashroth planned a five-day expedition, beyond The Vale. His parents persuaded The Citadel to send six Regs with him, Isara. Six. Croix spent the first night in The Vale. Only four Regs left with him in the morning, heading north. All four Regs went offline sometime during the second night. Croix never made it home. I can’t stress enough how risky this plan is. ”

Maxim rested a hand on my knee, undeterred. “I’ll find a way. If it means Roan remains with you as an added safeguard while I’m away, and I return daily—even if only for an hour—then so be it.” He turned to my papa, unshaken. “She’ll be safely within The Vale well before sunset. You have my word.”

Papa’s jaw ticked, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He wasn’t fully aware of it yet, but something about Maxim’s reasoning—his willingness to problem-solve in ways no Supplicant should—had unsettled him.

“You always try to find a way for me, don’t you?” I asked, half touched, half covering for him. We would need a code word, something subtle, a way for me to signal when he was betraying himself before someone else caught on.

“This is the stuff of nightmares,” Avaryn groaned. “Can we talk about your Oathbond instead? Isara, do you have a dress yet?”

I adjusted in my seat. “Er, not yet. We’re scheduled with the coordinator for the Monday after next.”

Mina chimed in. “The Vesture is very rigid in its scheduling, Avaryn. Now that he’s met Isara’s friends and family, they’ll engage in active and leisure outings, ending the week with their first compatibility evaluation.

Week Three is for public events and Oathbond Coordination.

Week Four is more of the same, ending with a private reflection period and then final approval. ”

“But,” Avaryn said, momentarily distracted as she thought, “Isara and Maxim already did an active outing… they went rock climbing.” She looked to me, confused. “Isn’t that what you said?”

I hesitated for a moment before settling on a half-truth. “No?”

Mina let out a small laugh. “Avaryn, you just invented that, darling.”

“No,” Avaryn insisted. “Maxim said they could cut the climb down from Smith Rock by half if she was strapped to his back. So, they’ve already gone, since he knows exactly how long the descent took them.”

All eyes drifted to Maxim and me.

Maxim remained composed, offering Avaryn a patient smile.

“You’re absolutely right. I did mention that, but only as a hypothetical.

A way to reassure Isara that, if her heart is set on exploring The Vale, I would ensure it was carried out safely and efficiently.

” He turned to Mina and Papa. “But of course, we’ve adhered to the Vesture’s itinerary.

My programming dictates that every outing and engagement occurs exactly as scheduled. ”

For a Supplicant to lie was an outright transgression of The Eight—our most immutable laws. Whoever engineered Maxim’s deviations had managed to override that constraint, meaning they weren’t merely brilliant in tampering with code—it was genius, bending the very limits of possibility.

I watched Maxim for a beat too long. Not only had he managed to deceive my family, his tone was so calm, so assured, even I almost believed him.