Page 65 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

Roan’s head bobbed in a desperate nod. “Then you understand. This isn’t infatuation, or timing, or convenience.

I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.

And I know what that sounds like, coming from someone like me.

” His voice cracked. “I’ve always been given whatever I desired.

Everything. Except this. And if I lose her, if she walks away because I didn’t fight hard enough, I won’t survive it.

Not because she’s the one thing I can’t have, but because I’ve recognized she’s the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted.

No, it’s need. I need her. I do, Isara. I love her.

You have to believe me.” His eyes glossed over, and he grabbed his knees.

“I believe you,” I said, touching his back.

Maxim’s tone was nothing but sincere. “It’s obvious you love her.

But, Roan, you have to respect Bellam’s hesitation.

Hyperion isn’t perfect, but it’s structured.

Familiar. You’re asking her to trade a life of curated comfort for one of uncertainty, of living off the land when she’s grown up having every meal appear with a simple command.

Even if she loves you, would she be truly happy there? ”

Roan stood still, silent. Then, with quiet conviction, “I’d spend every day making sure she was.”

Maxim nodded once and gestured toward the direction Bellam had gone. “Then go. Tell her that.”

Roan hesitated.

“And Roan,” I said, grabbing his jacket. “Just tell her the truth. Not some polished line from a passage you memorized from an old world novel. She doesn’t need poetry. She needs you. Honest and flawed and real.”

He looked at me, eyes shining, then kissed my cheek with a quick, trembling press and turned away.

Maxim slipped an arm around me as I exhaled and leaned into his chest.

“This is bad,” I said, my voice barely audible over the music pulsing from the other side of the garden.

“Is it?”

“He’s going to wake up one day soon and realize he can’t leave his name behind. He’s going to remember who he is, his responsibilities to his family, and love won’t be enough. And when that happens”—I swallowed hard—“he’ll break her heart.”

Maxim’s arms tightened around me. “We’ll speak to Joss. Just in case.”

I nodded, dreading the conversation. “What do I tell Lourdes?”

“There’s nothing to tell yet,” Maxim said gently. “Not until there is.”

I sighed against him. “This isn’t going to end well. There are too many pieces, and none of them fit.”

“Come on.” He steered me back toward Lourdes’s floating platform. “Let’s not borrow the ending before the story’s had its say.”

We returned to find her still in motion, conducting the gala with the focus of a symphony conductor, smiling and greeting while fine-tuning the tempo of the evening. It was awe-inspiring, really. Her precision. Her ease. Her stamina. I felt exhausted just watching her.

Another hour had passed before she allowed herself to retreat with us to a table tucked into the back garden. The crowd’s energy fell into the background, replaced by the hush of wind sweeping through sculpted trees and the murmur of water from a nearby fountain.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I said, half in admiration, half in disbelief.

“She lives for this,” Leopold replied before she could, beaming at her like she’d spun the stars herself. “There’s nothing I love more than seeing her like this—composed, commanding, absolutely radiant. She takes the room in her hands and shapes it like clay. My darling captain.”

Lourdes leaned into him, her exhaustion tempered by affection. She looked past me then, eyes narrowing as she straightened in her seat. “There you are.”

Roan appeared from the shadows, his tie crooked, shirt collar open. He dropped into the seat beside her, not so much sitting as collapsing. His shoulders slumped forward, his gaze unfocused, distant. The party spun on around us—music, laughter, movement—but Roan was frozen, numb.

He looked like a man standing on the edge of triumph or ruin.

Lourdes glanced at him, then at Leopold, her annoyance barely concealed as she leaned in to whisper something sharp and swift.

From across the table, I stared at Roan, heart already aching—for him, for Bellam, for whatever came next.Top of Form “Did you find her?” Bottom of Form

“I did,” Roan said, deflated.

“Is she okay?”

“Bellam left?” Lourdes asked. She glared at Roan.

“You were warned. I should’ve known, with you moping around the estate, and then suddenly you were full of energy and smiling again.

It was obvious, but I was too distracted with the gala to see it.

It’s impossible, Roan. It’s good that you understand that now. ”

“Roan,” I said again, more gently this time. “Is she all right?”

He exhaled, staring down at the table as if the answer might be carved into the wood.

“Well?” Lourdes pressed, her voice taut.

“She says she will be,” Roan choked out.

Lourdes leaned back, arms crossed, clearly simmering. “I told you to let go of this fantasy. She has, what—how long before Veritas?”

“One hundred days,” Roan said flatly, without bothering to look up.

“Fourteen weeks,” she snapped. “What did you think was going to happen?”

I reached across the table toward him, my palm flat against the grain of one of the only oak furnishings in Hyperion Proper, my movement a subtle yet poignant show that someone at the table supported him. “Your sister is just worried. We all are.”

Maxim’s hand slid to my shoulder in reassurance.

“Roan,” I said, turning toward him. “Look at me. Are you okay?”

“Spectacular,” he muttered.

Lourdes threw up her hands. “Isara, please. Enlighten me.”

“It’s not my place,” I said, careful not to meet her full glare. “Just… maybe don’t be so hard on him. No one meant for this to happen.”

Roan glanced at me then, grateful.

“ What , exactly, has happened?” Lourdes demanded, eyes narrowing.

A Hiven interrupted, tray in hand. “Could I offer you some refreshments. Maybe a small plate from the galley?”

Roan brightened. “Actually, yes. What do you…?”

The Hiven cast a menu, waiting patiently while Roan read through it.

“I’ll have the quail, the braised rounds, and… the… yes, the spiral-cut pork, with the charred shallot and herb farro and grilled asparagus, please. For two. Package it. Quickly, please. I’m taking it to a friend.”

“Shall I bring anything else?” the Hiven asked, looking expectantly at the rest of us.

“I don’t believe so,” Maxim said, looking to me for confirmation.

I shook my head.

“They don’t offer take-out,” Lourdes said, with thinly veiled disdain.

“Surely they can make an exception,” Roan said, unbothered.

He was suddenly back to his old self, the sparkle having returned to his eyes.

It was almost surreal, like watching a storm pass in reverse.

Whatever scheme had just taken shape in his mind, he clearly believed in it with absolute certainty.

“Of course, Primar Vasthane,” the Hiven replied.

“Food? That’s your grand plan?” I asked, amused.

He raised two fingers, crossed. “She never turns down food, and she didn’t get a chance to sample anything while she was here.”

I smiled, then turned to Maxim. “If this crashes and burns, remember, you encouraged this.”

“And I stand by my words,” he said, confident.

Lourdes looked to her brother, concern weighing down her features. “A plan for what, Roan? You’re not really trying to win Bellam over for her last few weeks, are you? I feel there’s more you aren’t telling me.”

Roan pushed his chair back from the table, suddenly full of hope again. “You are correct, darling sister, and I’m afraid that is the way it shall remain.”

“In that case, I’m sure I’m needed by our guests,” Lourdes said.

Leopold scrambled to pull out her chair, and then whispered to her as they left together, attempting to ease the hurt in her eyes.

“Should I check on Bellam later?” I asked.

“No,” Roan said, distracted as he watched for the Hiven to return with their food. “She said she’d call you in the morning.”

“Are you certain she wants to see you again tonight?” Maxim asked.

Roan blinked, then met Maxim’s gaze before shifting to mine.

“I didn’t just decide this at dinner last night,” he insisted.

“We’ve been seeing each other. Often. It started with breakfast…

finally… then lunches, drinks after work…

then dinner.” He exhaled. “She’s sharp, infuriating, hilarious in the most unexpected ways.

She challenges everything I say and it’s absolutely endearing.

” His voice faltered. “It’s only been a few weeks, yes, but I know the way her eyes shift shades when she’s tired.

The way she pushes her sleeves up exactly halfway when she’s focused.

The pattern of the faint scatter of freckles across her nose.

The ring her grandmina gave her; she twists it when she’s nervous, always clockwise.

I know every bit of it. I carry it like it’s mine. ”

“I believe that you love her. But are you certain about The Vale?” I asked. “Because if you’re not sure, if you change your mind after you change hers, this… this is cruel.”

He met my eyes. “I love her more than anything, Isara, and the only option for us is The Vale. I know how it sounds. I do. But I’ve never felt this way about anyone.

It’s not that she didn’t trip over herself to spend time with me, or that my charms didn’t work on her.

At first, yes, I was intrigued, but when I’m around her, I feel whole.

And when I’m not, it’s devastating. How am I supposed to live the rest of my life feeling that way? ”

I stared at him, stunned. “You mean it. If she agrees, you’re going.”

“We are. Did Joss tell you anything about The Vale I wouldn’t already know?” he asked. “We can’t just leave like everyone else, obviously. I need to understand what it would take to be permitted to stay, what our options are if we don’t go through official channels.”

I gathered myself, fully aware that whatever help I gave now was also a quiet act of both treason and surrender.

I was assisting my best friend in choosing a future that no longer included me, and something that, should The Citadel learn of my involvement, would be just another reason for banishment.

“I wish I could. Joss didn’t say much. And to be honest, I don’t think he will. ”

Maxim leaned forward. “If you do happen to convince Bellam, you’ll need to leave at dawn.

It will be difficult for Bellam to make it there before sunset, but it’s imperative that you arrive before dark.

In no uncertain terms, that achievement will be the difference between life and death.

On your journey, watch for tremors in the ground, and the Drave.

If you see either, run. Hide. But don’t stop.

I hope Joss can find an escort for you, but if not, this isn’t one of your guided expeditions, Roan.

You’ll need to think of every pitfall to protect her every step until the moment you reach The Vale’s gates.

Use Joss’s name when you’re approached by the guards.

They’ll be hostile and suspicious. If you make it, only the Veyr decides admission for any Sovereign who’s left Hyperion Proper without permission.

He’ll decide where to house you. Expect labor, shared resources, no luxury. ”

“If they make it,” I muttered. I suddenly recognized that I could lose my best friend to more than just The Vale. “And if they’re allowed to stay. The Veyr may decide it’s too dangerous. Harboring a rogue Vanguard could be seen as an act of war.”

Roan thought for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll convince him. I’ve met him before. I make him laugh.”

“Getting him to laugh is one thing, but asking him to risk the people he’s sworn to protect—his own family—that’s something else entirely.” My voice caught, tight with dread. “I don’t know, Roan. The more we talk about it, the more impossible it feels.

Lourdes returned. “Well? Did we give you enough time to pour your heart out to Isara?”

The three of us who’d remained at the table traded glances.

She smirked, but I could still see the hurt in her eyes. “He’s my brother. If he can’t talk to me, he needs to talk to someone.”

Roan’s expression softened. “I love you, too, Elle.”

She winked.

The Hiven arrived with Roan’s food, gliding in without a sound. Roan barely acknowledged it. He stood, pressed a quick kiss to Lourdes’s cheek, and jogged off with a casual wave, already moving toward whatever plan had taken root in his mind.

Lourdes rolled her eyes, with feigned exasperation she reserved only for Roan, but faded when her gaze settled on his empty seat.

It struck me how effortlessly she transformed back into her role as someone still entirely in control of the room.

She turned to Leopold with a smile already forming, one that bloomed with polished grace.

Within seconds, she was laughing, shoulder pressed against his, her hand brushing his sleeve as if to seal herself back inside the tone of the evening.

She looked radiant. Composed. Untouched.

And for a heartbeat, I wondered if she truly hadn’t noticed. If Roan’s sudden lightness, the strange, restless certainty in him, hadn’t registered. Or if she simply refused to see it, because acknowledging it might alert her to a possibility she couldn’t allow herself to consider.

She laughed again, head tilted back, unaware that her brother was already halfway gone.