Page 126 of The Sovereign: Part One
“Don’t use the frequency,” I murmured.
“I already am,” he said without remorse.
Moments later, I slipped beneath consciousness.I didn’t know it then, but that was the last moment we would speak as two.The next would bind us as one, forever sealed beneath the vow of eternity.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The chamber was quiet, and I stood in the center, alone, thirty-seven stories above the city, shrouded in calm… at least for a few more minutes.I stared into the mirrored transpane before me, at the exact gown I’d envisioned, timeless yet severe in the most delicate way.Its high, mock neck steeped it in restrained strength.The bodice was structured but not rigid, with sheer laced sleeves that traveled to my wrists like wisps of cloud stitched with silk.A graceful train fell behind me in a gentle sweep, the fabric neither pure white nor beige, but something warmer—ivory with a drop of dawn.My hair had been extended, styled half up, the rest cascading in loose, glinting curls over my shoulders, held by a gold pin that once belonged to my mina.The memory of her fastening it into place this morning, hands trembling with pride, was one I would revisit often.
My dermatone palette had been selected weeks ago: luminous skin, a soft blush at the apples of my cheeks, eyes swept in rose quartz, lips slick with a pink gloss that tasted faintly of citrus.My lashes had been doubled and fanned, not to dramatize, but to emphasize.It was all exactly how I had always imagined, and still, nothing could have prepared me for how it would feel to have the culmination of my every dream staring back at me.
A soft sheen of light floated down from the ceiling, tinting the air with a gentle blush.I stood in the center of it all, touching the chain at my neck, the one Maxim had gifted me, laced into the gown that marked the end of one life and the beginning of another.
Today was the sum of all my aspirations, my hard work, my north star, and somehow, a threat to the highest order of Hyperion clothed in a love story.
The room had been reserved as a sort of bridal suite, though the term felt outdated, a relic from centuries past.Still, it was elegant in the way that Hyperion did best: understated curves, pale-gold accents glimmering along the walls, and a wall of transpane that turned from transparent to opaque with a word.For now, it remained clear, bathing the room in gentle early afternoon light that filtered through the highest towers of the Core District.
The panel opened, and Bellam, Lourdes, Avaryn, and my mina poured in, talking over one another but all wearing the same smile.Bellam handed me a leir of crystal water, Lourdes touched up my lip gloss, and Avaryn held Mina to her side as they stared at me in awe.
“There,” Lourdes said, taking a step back.She sighed, satisfied with her work.“You’re perfect.”
I sat at the edge of a sculpted chaise, hands in my lap, willing myself not to chew on my thumbnail.Bellam caught the motion before it started and gave me a look.I dropped my hands into the folds of my gown, guilty.
Bellam sat across from me in a structured navy gown with a collar fold that swept across one shoulder like a sash.Her hair was tucked into a low chignon, and after giving herself one last look, she peered up at me as if she might cry.Lourdes had not sat once, pacing in satisfaction, examining every detail as if the ceremony itself were one of her curated exhibitions.Her mint silk sheath dress skimmed over her like liquid light, and she crossed the floor while still somehow leaving the moment undisturbed.Avaryn had finally stopped fidgeting long enough to retie the sash around her waist—again—her dark hair curling in rebellious, soft waves despite every effort.
My mina stood nearby, her expression unreadable.She hadn’t said much since we arrived.She didn’t need to.Her eyes carried lifetimes of emotion.Whatever was simmering just beneath the surface, she was cycling through every stabilizer in her core to keep it contained.
“You’re unnervingly calm,” Bellam said.
I only offered a small smile.“I’m pretending.”
Lourdes arched a brow.“Pretending is ninety percent of elegance.”
Avaryn rolled her eyes.“She’s not pretending.She’s dissociating.”
I laughed, and the sound surprised even me.Bellam leaned in.“What is going on behind those eyes of yours?”
I exhaled, slowly.“That I want to be at the end of the aisle with Maxim.I can’t relax until I see him.”
“You’ll see him soon enough,” Lourdes said.“And then you’ll nevernotsee him.”
I breathed out a laugh.“Unlike you, I return to work in thirty days.”
“That’s rather rude,” Lourdes said, fussing with her dress and not at all offended.“My schedule is quite full, and I couldn’t do it all without Leo.”
“How was your Oathbond night?”Avaryn asked, leaning toward Lourdes.
“Miša,” Mina scolded her.“Enough.”
Lourdes let out an unguarded laugh—sharp, bright, and startlingly unrefined.I hadn’t seen that version of her since our Bacchanal years.For a fleeting moment, she was unburdened by agendas and obligations, stripped of protocol and ceremony.“It’s quite all right, Noryn,” she said with a gracious nod, then turned her gaze toward Avaryn.“If one were to imagine perfection distilled into a single evening, that would be my description.”
Avaryn gave a single lift of her brow, her mouth tilting into a wry smile.“Your answer was disappointingly Vanguard-like, but I admit I’m mildly inspired.”
“Avaryn!For Chiron’s sake!”Mina said, flushed.
I took a breath, desperately trying to focus on their ridiculous conversation instead of worrying.If anything went wrong, Lev would intercept it.He would reduce The Citadel to ash before letting their systems outmaneuver his code.And if, by some miracle of madness, they did—Maxim had exit strategies.Not one.Not three.At least a dozen.But then what?We’d flee.Plead with The Vale for sanctuary.He would find ways to visit, slipping past the dangers beyond the wall each night to return, until one day he didn’t.
A cold weight dropped in my stomach, but I refused to let it settle.If I let fear claim this moment, this once-in-a-lifetime breath before forever, I would live with that regret far longer than any loss that might follow.
