Page 70 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)

The private convocation room Hecta had reserved for the Tethering Vows felt like an exception to everything Hyperion usually celebrated.

There were no mirrored walls reflecting back endless versions of ourselves, no holography, no reactive transpane shimmering with overlays or pulsing ambient soundscapes.

Warm light pooled from a suspended halo fixture above a circular platform of muted stone.

The walls, a pale taupe edged in ivory molding, curved gently around us like the pause before breath turns to words.

Simulated candlelight flickered gently along the recessed wall niches and at the center of each low table, casting a golden shimmer over the ivory-and-stone floral arrangements—orchid, boneleaf, and pale vatra blooms—casting a golden hush over everything it touched.

And the air—cool and clean—carried the unmistakable scent of white myrrh.

Through the sheer wall of transpane, The Citadel loomed, even from nearly two kilometers away. Its light shimmered like a pulse across the skyline—watchful, inescapable. It wasn’t meant to feel close, but it did.

Maxim had escorted me from our Sablestone to a small building within the Dominion complex, his hand either in mine or resting lightly against the small of my back each step of the way.

He wore a tailored slate-gray suit with a crisp white shirt beneath, the top button left undone, no tie.

Just enough to show he belonged in any room, but not enough to draw attention from me.

His hair was freshly cut, and he’d trimmed his beard closer than usual, the sharp line of it setting off his jaw like a sculpture.

I could feel every Sovereign, Supplicant, and Hiven glance at him as we’d crossed the atrium—even when they tried to hide it.

First at him, then at me, curious to see who’d designed such perfection, and whether I measured up to the Sovereign they imagined he should belong to.

I wore a bone-colored dress with structured shoulders and a fluid wrap at the waist, belted with a single strand of brushed rose gold that caught the light when I turned.

My hair was swept into a twist, settling into a low side bun, anchored with a delicate pin Maxim had helped me pick out weeks ago, perfectly matching the necklace he gifted me.

I felt whole. Ready. And terrified something would go wrong.

The room was warm with voices when we’d entered.

Lourdes had laughed too loudly at something Leopold spoke low in her ear, and Roan was already leaning into Bellam, clearly trying to get her to smile the way he loved.

She gave us a quick wave. Mina caught my eye from across the room, her smile already waiting—wide, radiant, and just shy of tears.

The soft peach of her tunic dress glowed against her skin, the fabric catching light like it had been woven from morning itself.

A few steps behind her, Papa stood with his hands folded, his joy subdued but no less present.

Avaryn reached me first, arms flung around my shoulders before I could speak. “You look unreal. Like someone carved you out of legacy and light.”

I laughed, clinging to her. “You’re on time, I’m impressed.”

“I had to make sure you didn’t bolt.”

I raised one brow. “You realize I’m the least likely person in this room to do that.”

She grinned, pulling back. “Maybe I just wanted to be here early enough to tease you about bolting.”

Maxim smiled at her. “Hello, Avaryn.”

Avaryn leaned into him for a quick hug, then winked at me. “It’s like squeezing one of the pillars of the Paragon. Aren’t you lucky.”

“Go sit,” I said with a laugh. “Don’t let Mina monologue.”

My eyes wandered to our mina, noticing she was standing alone.

Papa was now standing in the corner of the room with Lev, in tense conversation.

Papa was gesturing slightly with one hand, half-shielded by a sculptural column.

Lev remained calm, composed, hands clasped lightly at his front as he listened.

Papa’s expression was furrowed, the muscle in his jaw tight.

I couldn’t hear their exchange, but I didn’t need to.

Lev finally placed a steady hand on my father’s shoulder, said something short and definitive, and after a long pause, Papa nodded, satisfied with his answer.

Mina gently brushed Avaryn aside, her movement no more than a silken breeze, pausing just long enough to kiss her cheek before making her way to me.

“You’re radiant,” she said to me, taking my face gently in both hands, glancing at Papa.

“I remember ours like it was hours ago, how his hands trembled, how he couldn’t stop smiling.

That day marked the beginning of every joy I’ve ever known.

” Her eyes shimmered, her smile tender beneath it.

“I’m so deeply happy for you, my darling. ”

“Thank you, Mina,” I said.

She turned to Maxim. “You’re likely already sensing it, a certainty, a pull. That’s alignment. It feels as if everything within you has finally found a place to rest. Let it ground you. What you feel today is the tide turning. Know this: the shore will come to meet you.”

“I believe you, Noryn,” Maxim said, sincere. “There aren’t words strong enough to express what it means to belong to this family. To bear the Poeima name is a privilege I feel in every breath, and I intend to honor it for as long as I exist.”

Mina reached up to Maxim’s shoulder, gave him a squeeze, and then turned to find a seat next to Avaryn.

Bellam slid in beside me, Roan in tow. “You’re stunning. I can’t wait to see what you’ve chosen for tomorrow.”

“I second that,” Maxim said, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

Bellam smiled at Maxim, studying him for a beat longer than usual.

“You’re perfect for her.” She said it as if she were surprised, but then clarified, holding out her hand, palm down.

“Not just because of the Veritas. It’s something else.

” She watched him for another moment, her eyes narrowing.

“The way you look at her reminds me of how Roan looks at me. Like you chose her .” She paused, visibly second-guessing herself.

“Oh, for Chiron’s sake, I’m sorry. That probably came out absurdly rude.

Obviously, you didn’t choose her. I mean…

not like that. Oh, that’s worse. I just meant…

”—she sighed—“It’s like you’re two Sovereign who fell in love.

” She laughed lightly, brushing it off with a wave.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. Ignore me. I’m just happy for you both.”

Maxim and I traded glances, then he met Bellam’s eyes, offered a gracious smile, then gently drew me closer to his side.

“It’s likely a residual imprint from the Veritas…

what you’re noticing. Isara’s answers during the protocol shaped how I perceive and express affection.

If it feels deeper, it’s because she asked for depth.

If it looks like choice, maybe that’s because she wanted someone who would’ve chosen her, had he been able. ”

“Seems just,” Roan said, his voice pitched with performative certainty.

Then he leaned into Bellam’s ear, his words barely brushing the air between them.

“Mind yourself. Keep pressing like that and I’ll begin to worry you’ve grown uncertain of me, and I’d hate to spend the evening nursing a wounded pride. ”

Bellam covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

I breathed out a laugh. “You’re fine. I’m glad you think so. I agree, what we have is… special.”

Maxim looked down at me, absolute adoration in his eyes. “How might Roan understand? Ah, I’ve got it. What lies between us would not be believed if told, yet here it lives, undeniable and ours .”

Roan gave Maxim a look of mild approval. “Where’s my leir? A response worthy of a toast. As if there could’ve ever been another.”

Lourdes entered as if the evening had been arranged around her arrival. “I must say, I’m stunned. I didn’t know Hecta had restraint in her repertoire.” Her eyes swept the room, one brow lifting. “Understated elegance. I stand corrected.”

Leopold followed close behind, offering the group a warm smile. “We seem to have taken the scenic route. But rest assured, no one arrives more precisely than my beautiful accordant, even if the clocks disagree.”

“Are we late?” Lourdes asked.

Leopold scrunched his nose and shook his head, immediately dismissing the thought of Lourdes being anything but perfect.

Lourdes lifted my hands in hers, eyes sweeping over me with measured grace. “You’re breathtaking, darling. Positively unfair. If I weren’t so terribly fond of you, I might be tempted to spill wine on this stunning dress. Accidentally, of course.”

“That’s a Vasthane compliment if I’ve ever heard one,” I said, squeezing her hands.

She turned to Maxim. “I know you recognize what an enviable gift you’ve been granted, Maxim.”

Maxim bowed slightly. “I certainly won’t argue with that. I’m not sure what I did to deserve her, but I’d do it all again.”

Lourdes and Leopold made the same sound at different octaves, with Lourdes touching her chest.

Maxim continued, “Thank you for coming. We’re honored, Primara.”

A side panel glided open, revealing a slender, elderly man with silver hair swept back from a high, noble brow.

He wore a tailored mantle of ivory and gold that draped from his shoulders to his calves, the hem lined with subtle pattern work resembling the concentric seal of The Citadel.

Though his frame was delicate, there was an obvious authority in the way he carried himself—each step unhurried and practiced.

He made his way through the room, clasping hands, nodding to familiar faces, exchanging a few quiet words with Papa and Mina before finally reaching Maxim and me.