Page 47 of The Sovereign: Part One
Maxim’s eyes moved over the space, thoughtful.The moment seemed to feel just as surreal for him as it did for me.He hadn’t said it yet, but I could see it in the way his shoulders eased, how his gaze lingered on small details.The only time I’d seen that expression was when he first saw me face-to-face.
He shrugged out of his coat, his fingers grazing mine as I took it from him.The fabric still carried the lingering coolness of spring on the outside, his warmth on the inner lining.I turned, hanging it neatly in the alcove beneath the stairs.“I’ll show you around,” I said, gesturing for him to follow.
The neutral tones of the walls—white, beige, pale gray—absorbed any heavy lighting, creating an atmosphere that was both sleek and soothing.Everything in Hyperion Proper was designed for streamlined function, but I had made small choices here and there to make the space my own.
“The galley,” I said as we stepped into the open layout.
The countertops, a polished mineral composite, stretched smooth and uninterrupted, with no visible seams.The induction surface blended into the counter itself.“It activates only when touched or with Calyx.The cabinets open and retract with a soft push here,” I said, demonstrating.I walked a few steps to a wall panel, watching it turn transparent as I approached.“And the coldkeep is here,” I said, referring to the quantum-cooled preservation unit.It had been built into the cabinetry, its transpane panels allowing the opacity to adjust—opaque when idle, clearing upon proximity detection, to reveal its climate-regulated interior.
Maxim ran his fingers along the counter’s surface, nodding.“Impressive,” he murmured, his voice edged with quiet approval.
I led him toward the living area.“This is where I spend most of my time.”
The furniture was minimal, yet comfortable: low, cushioned seating in a soft taupe fabric that adjusted with the contours of whoever settled into it.The walls were smooth and uninterrupted, designed for seamless automation.A projection interface inconspicuously stretched across the mantel above the fireplace, ready to display anything from information feeds to ambient landscapes.A small reading nook was nestled against the far corner, a single chair and a floating shelf housing a collection of physical books—one of the few indulgences I allowed myself.
Maxim’s gaze lingered on the nook.“You have a preference for printed text.”
I smiled.“You’ll find I like tangible things.”
We moved down the hallway, past the powder room.The air here was always balanced, refreshed by filtration systems that eliminated all traces of dust or impurities.The floor adjusted subtly underfoot, just enough to cushion movement, reducing impact, a feature built into every residence in Hyperion Proper.
When we reached the Laundrette, I gestured to a small, recessed panel in the floor.“This is unique to the district,” I explained.“I’ve optimized over the years, but it’s an older home, and properties from that era had separate Network Relay Chambers for communications and power management before everything was centralized.When the grid went unified, Hyperion paid to fill and cap most of them.I kept mine.It’s dead-wired and insulated.It makes for good storage space.”
Maxim crouched, his fingers brushing over the panel to find the indistinct seam before lifting.The opening revealed a narrow, enclosed space beneath, the walls lined with outdated conduits, silent and unused.He let out a low chuckle.“You could fit a whole secret society of toddlers down there.”
I aimed to tease him with an exasperated expression, but the amusement glimmering in my eyes gave me away.“It’s just for old sweaters and keepsakes now.”
He closed the panel, the floor sealing seamlessly as if it had never been disturbed.“Still.Interesting.”
We moved upstairs, the layout reflecting the simplicity of the lower level.I led Maxim down the hall, through my somna, and into the acquell, where sleek, flawless design met advanced function.
In the corner, the spacious HydraBay stood ready, its transparent enclosure framed by luminescent strips.“These adjust in hue and brightness according to preference.Discreet nozzles activate upon entry, calibrating water temperature, pressure, and flow—whether a cooling mist or a deep-massaging cascade—guided by real-time biometric feedback.And the immersion basin,” I said, nodding to it.It was large enough for two, an elegant, sculpted expanse that filled silently and instantly via a concealed mechanism beneath the surface.“It’s one of my favorite things in the entire Sablestone, even though I don’t take time to use it often.The water can be enhanced with therapeutic currents, microbubble infusion, or customized mineral blends, adjusting to hydration needs.And this feature”—I gestured for an interface to display and made a selection, watching as a soft halo traced the basin’s perimeter—“automatically shifts between calming spectrums in response to detected muscle tension.”
Maxim’s gaze slowly left the basin and landed on me.“I have a request.”
“Yes?”
“That we make time to use it more often.”
My cheeks suddenly caught fire.“Oh… okay.We can do that.”I tried to suppress a grin but failed.
Maxim mirrored my expression, his gaze lingering on me with a warmth that made my stomach flutter.There was something unspoken in his eyes, perhaps amusement laced with anticipation.
At the far wall, a large interactive mirror spanned the space above the double sinks, its surface able to shift flawlessly between a reflective pane and an illuminated display.
“The mirror responds to simple gestures, offering everything from hydration and wellness metrics to personal analytics, even displaying a sleep quality report.”
“Doubt I’ll be needing that,” Maxim teased.
I stammered with my response, blinking as I tried to backtrack from my obvious misstep.“No… probably… probably not.”
“Are you…nervous?”
“No,” I insisted, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“You shouldn’t be,” he said, amused.His expression switched from lightly teasing to sincere.“I’m honored.This feels like a tour only a privileged few have been granted.”
“Just you, actually.”
