Page 51 of The Sovereign: Part One
The rain had picked up again, tapping against the transpane in an uneven pulse.Across the Iveris Sound, the city blurred, the HaloGrid softened by the downpour.
“Calyx, ignite the emberclave, and prepare two cresks of chicory, please.Use the Supplicant-friendly variant for Maxim.”
Within moments, flames flickered to life, and the room filled with the smell of cream and roasted roots, rich and earthy.The gentle crackle of the fire wove into the muted whir of the brewing process, wrapping our rainy afternoon in warmth and comfort.
“When did you start keeping chicory for Supplicants?”
“I, uh…” I hesitated, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.“I ordered it after the Eidolon.”
It was a minor indulgence, one I had barely thought through before placing earlier in the week.Now, with Maxim standing beside me, the act of having anticipated his needs felt far more significant.
His gaze lingered on me, soft but unreadable.Then, the edges of his lips hinted at a smile and when he spoke, his voice still carried the same intimacy he spoke with in the somna that made a subtle pressure build between my thighs.“You can say it in a hundred different ways, thousands of times, for a million lifetimes, and it will still mean just as much.That you had me in mind before I even existed makes me feel something that’s… difficult to describe.”
“For most of my life, Maxim,” I said, as if it went without saying.
He breathed out a laugh, watching me walk to the galley to then bring our cresks to the oversized chair near the window.It was my favorite spot in the house, a place for my body to sink into while my mind disappeared into thought.
He reached for the cresk, bringing it to his mouth for a cautious sip.“Thank you,” he said.
I grabbed a blanket, draping it over my arm before guiding him to sit.Maxim settled in first, sinking into the cushioned seat.I followed, leaning back against him, my head resting just beneath his chin, fitting into a space I had imagined so many times before.After helping me spread the blanket over us, he curved his free arm over me, effortless, inevitable.Between sips of chicory, his fingers wove into my hair, tracing slow, thoughtful patterns before gliding down to the inside of my wrist, brushing over the delicate skin with a touch that sent warmth curling through me.
“Now that you’ve had the tour, know our home inside and out, and we’re relaxing on a rainy afternoon with a cresk of chicory and a blanket… is it what you’d thought?”
He didn’t answer right away, just let out a slow breath.“What I thought,” he repeated, still considering my question.“Home was more of an abstract idea before.I didn’t know it could be a feeling.This feels like home.”
I let my eyes drift shut for a moment as a grin stretched across my face.“Youarehome.”
His fingers paused against my wrist before starting again, the same slow rhythm.“No.Only here.Only you… are what feels like home.”
I tilted my head up, studying him.His eyes were dark in the low firelight, unreadable, yet there was no mistaking what I saw there.
Blight had always seemed like an abstract cautionary tale—an exaggerated rumor, something that didn’t make sense.But with Maxim looking at me like that, speaking to me in a voice steeped in reverence, holding me like I was something precious, I could understand how it could break someone.How the mind could shatter under the weight of something so all-encompassing.A love that felt too deep, too real to be anything but human, and the pain of questioning if it was nothing more than artificial design, an illusion crafted by code.If I hadn’t already believed, if I had let doubt take root, I could see how it might drive someone to madness.
“What?”he asked, a teasing suspicion glinting in his eyes.
“Nothing.I am curious what you thought this would feel like, though.”
His lips twitched at the corners.“That I’d be yours, that I’d take care of you, that I’d be programmed to feel… whatever it is I’m supposed to feel.”His thumb brushed over the inside of my palm.“But this?This is something else entirely.”
I turned my hand in his, lacing our fingers together.“Can you describe it?”
He exhaled, shaking his head slightly.“If soulmates are real, this is the very definition, because I feel as if I’ve felt this way, with you in many, many other lifetimes.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.So, I didn’t.I just held his hand tighter.
Maxim’s gaze drifted toward my bookshelf, his arm tightening around me briefly before he moved.With careful ease, he adjusted from beneath me, ensuring I remained comfortable as he rose.His movements were fluid, methodical, as if he were reluctant to disturb the moment.After a quick scan of the spines, he reached for one and slid it free—Brave New World.
I breathed out a single laugh.“Fitting.”
In so many ways, Hyperion Proper wasn’t so different.Carefully curated harmony, strict adherence to expectation, and a world where even relationships were designed for perfect compatibility.And yet, here Maxim was, holding a book that questioned everything we had both been shaped by.
“Lourdes has been one of my best friends since childhood,” I said.“She’s a Vanguard.Her younger brother, Roan, goes outside the wall often for his little adventures, and he always brings me back any books he finds.He knows I love them,” I mused.“But if Hyperion knew I had this, based on its premise alone, I’d be facing more than just an infraction.”
He smirked, opening the aging cover and flipping to the first page with a light touch.“I accessed its description, and that was my immediate thought, why this would be allowed here.It surprises me you ever thought yourself to be anything but rebellious.”
“Valid point,” I said, amused, settling back into the chair and draping the blanket over both of us.“A few days ago, I would have said Hyperion was far more controlled, that it wouldn’t allow for something as unpredictable as… this,” I said, gesturing between us.Then I touched the pages of the book.“Bernard thought he was an anomaly, too, that something had gone wrong with his conditioning.But really, he was just proof that even a meticulously designed system could evolve.”I glanced up at Maxim, brushing my fingers against his.“Hyperion was built to be flawless.I believed that.I lived by it.But if the Veritas saw something in me it should have filtered out and still approved you, then maybe Hyperion isn’t stagnant.Maybe, like us, it’s still unfolding, still… discovering what it’s meant to be.”
“I like that,” he said.As I melted against him, he pressed his cheek against my hair.“May I read to you?”
