Chapter 261: Chapter 261
Hela turned, her movement as fluid as silk, her expression softening into a look of calm, maternal curiosity. "Yes, I know who you are, Zaeryn," she said, her voice resonant and smooth. "It’s hard not to know who you are these days. My friends at the Citadel... they talk about you quite a bit."
Zaeryn blinked, feigning a touch of surprise. "Oh? You work at the Citadel, then?"
Hela let out a soft, amused hum, shaking her head. "No, I don’t work there. But I frequent the place; I have many friends among the Council and the High Command." She gestured toward a nearby glass table where a chilled carafe of pale, sparkling liquid sat nestled in ice. "So, the Citadel has been speaking about me? I hope there were good things."
"A mix of both," Hela replied, pouring him a glass and handing it across the table.
Zaeryn took the glass with an appreciative nod. "Thanks. And for what it’s worth, it’s a rare pleasure to meet someone who isn’t trying to decide my nature on sight."
Hela nodded.
Already, based on her demeanor towards him, Zaeryn could tell that she was chill, composed, and lacked the sharp, jagged edges of her daughter’s personality.
"Are you and Leia friends?" She asked.
"Not really, she hates me for some reason," He explained. He tried to think of a reason why Leia disliked him. But he didn’t find any besides that she already disliked him at first sight.
"Hmm." Hela hummed, "I can see that." She said.
"I’m relieved you’re nothing like her." Zaeryn saud and immediately he regretted saying that. He scrambled to say, "No offense."
Hela nodded, "None taken."
"That’s a relief,"
"And trust me I know Leia is the total opposite of me. But you shouldn’t worry about her. She has incredible self control. So your well-being is not in danger in front of her. I also doubt her dislike towards you has any real malice."
Zaeryn thought of her words. He was about to ask her another question about Leia when the woman said, "Enough about Leia. How does your vitae work?"
"The same as everyone.... I guess?" He said knowing that he shouldn’t tell her everything. But at this point, it was kind of pointless since a lot more people knew about his nature including Leia.
"With the exception that you can mimic other people’s abilities, of course," she said, reaching casually to refill her own glass.
Zaeryn went still. He kept his face casual, but the words had landed somewhere they weren’t supposed to. That wasn’t something he’d told her.
The ones who knew had clearance to know it, and Leia’s mother was not one of them.
"I didn’t know you already knew that," he said carefully. "Did Leia tell you?" She knew about him so she must have.
Hela glanced up, her expression genuinely mild. "Thorne told me, and it’s not really a secret around the citadel at this point. And I might not work there, but people tend to tell me a great deal, Zaeryn. It’s one of the advantages of keeping the company I keep." She settled back, no particular weight on the words. "I’m not in the habit of repeating things. I simply find you interesting. That’s all this is."
"You said Thorne told you. Do you mean Commander Thorne," Zaeryn looked at her. "As in Charlotte Thorne?"
Hela’s expression shifted, something faintly amused moving through it. "As in her sister. Kira. She works in xenobiology." She tilted her head slightly. "Did you think Charlotte was out there gossiping about you?"
"For a second," he admitted.
"Charlotte has many flaws," Hela said. "Gossip isn’t one of them. Kira, on the other hand, cannot help herself."
"I know Kira. And yeah that fits her," Zaeryn said. "Are you and commander Thorne familiar with each other? "You called her Charlotte. I’d assume she’s more than just a name to you."
"We’ve known each other a long time," Hela said simply. "She and I fought side by side for 15 years."
Zaeryn nodded.
After that they fell into easy conversation, and the tension he had braced for never quite materialized. Hela was sharp, but she wasn’t hunting him, which was uncommon enough to feel almost strange. He stayed easy and kept the mimic thing in the back of his mind where it belonged.
The door hissed open, and Leia strode back into the room. The clinical, armored look was gone; she had changed into loose, comfortable lounge wear, though her face remained as unyielding as ever. She stopped short, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of her mother and Zaeryn sharing a drink, the atmosphere far more relaxed than she’d left it.
"Let’s go," Leia said, her voice cutting through the pleasant air. She didn’t look at either of them, her gaze fixed toward the grand staircase.
Zaeryn stood up, leaving the half-finished glass on the table. As he started to follow her, Hela’s voice stopped him. "You can take it with you, Zaeryn. It’s a shame to waste it."
He looked back, grateful. He didn’t even know what drink this was but it was the best he’s had all day.
"Thanks." He took the glass before catching up to Leia.
As they walked, he matched her brisk pace. "So," he asked, "where are we actually sitting to work on this?"
Leia pointed upward without breaking stride. "Upstairs."
Zaeryn’s brow arched, his inner. "Oh? In your bedroom?"
Leia spun around so fast he almost walked into her. She snapped, her eyes flashing with renewed fury. "In your dreams, parasite! No way in hell I’m taking a pervert like you anywhere near my bedroom. Do not delude yourself."
Zaeryn blinked, holding up his hands in a mock-defensive gesture. "Whoa, calm down. It was just a question. How does that make me a pervert?"
In his defense he didn’t have any perverse thoughts when she said that.
"You exist," Leia retorted, pivoting and marching toward the stairs. "That’s enough for me."
They reached the second floor and Leia ushered him into a room that was clearly her own private lounge. It was expansive, dominated by a massive, high-definition screen and advanced seating technology that looked like it belonged in a command center rather than a house.
"I don’t understand why because I exist that makes me a pervert." Zaeryn brought it up.
Leia moved to a console, her fingers moving over the interface as she prepared the project files. She turned to him, the coldness returning to her gaze.
"I know how your parasitic and filthy powers work, anomaly," she said, her voice dropping into a low, clinical tone. " You’re a mimic. You leech off others to gain strength you haven’t earned."
Zaeryn felt the familiar prickle of annoyance, but he held his composure, sinking into one of the ergonomic chairs. "It’s not my fault how I’m built, Leia. And that doesn’t make me a pervert. It just makes me... Something else and it’s not a pervert."
He leaned back, watching her. "Also, you keep calling me an anomaly. I like it, just another word for special at this point,"
"You." She scoffed. "Special?"
"Yes." He responded.
Leia didn’t have a comeback immediately. She held his gaze for a moment, then turned back to the console without dignifying it. She picked up an Omni-Pad from the edge of the desk and held it out to him. "We’ll research separately first. Identify the variables. Once we have a baseline, we discuss. Do not say a word unless you have something relevant to say."
"Got it." He took the device from her hand and immediately pulled up the brief, settling in for a long session. Leia walked across the room, purposefully sitting as far away from him as humanly possible.
Knowing he was going to be stuck here for a while, Zaeryn decided to get comfortable. He toed off his boots, letting them drop to the floor with a dull thud, then leaned back and started scrolling through the data.
But every deliberate tap of his finger against the screen produced a small, clean, high-pitched audio cue.
Click. Click. Click.
Leia stopped mid-scroll, her head looking up from her own screen. She turned slowly to look at him.
"Stop it," she commanded.
Zaeryn looked up, the picture of confusion. "Stop what?"
Without asking, Leia crossed the room in three sharp strides, snatched the Omni-Pad clean out of his hands, and tapped the system settings twice. She shoved it back into his lap. The haptic clicking was gone.
"The clicking," she hissed. "It’s grating."
Zaeryn chuckled, leaning back into his chair. "You could have just asked. But I suppose being nice isn’t in your vocabulary?"
Leia didn’t answer. She turned on her heel and returned to her seat, her back straight as a spear.
Silence settled over the lounge once more as Zaeryn went back to his reading.
★★★
At the same time in the capitol sector- princess Atheas workspace.
Athea’s workspace was not a place people came to linger.
The palace’s other rooms breathed. The solarium with its open sky, the galleries with their floating crystals, the corridors with their slow drift of bioluminescent bloom.
In here the air was still and cool, and the only light came from the star-charts turning slowly on the wall and the pale glow of the Omni pad on her desk.
She had designed it that way.
Aphrodite had been sitting in the chair opposite her desk for the better part of twenty minutes, her legs crossed, scrolling through her Omni-Pad with the focused attention she usually reserved for nothing else.
She had arrived with something she wanted to say. She hadn’t said it yet. Athea had not asked her to.
"The Asvielle reception is in four days," Aphrodite said, finally looking up from her screen with a cheerful glint in her eyes.
"I’m aware." Athea turned a page on her Omni pad.
"Countess Relne sent me an invitation directly." She said it the way she said most things, lightly, but with a current underneath it that was waiting to be acknowledged.
"Hm."
Aphrodite’s expression changed a little at that. "That’s a good thing. The Relne family doesn’t send direct invitations. Usually you’re just included in the general notice."
"Then you should go."
"I was thinking I’d need something new to wear."
"You have things to wear."
"For a Relne reception?" Aphrodite let the Omni-Pad drop into her lap in something close to actual distress. "I had a piece in mind. I drew it up months ago, the amethyst silk with the layered collar, the one I described to you over dinner. The only person who can actually make it is Iselle. And Iselle is refusing me."
Athea turned another page.
"She isn’t even saying why," Aphrodite continued, her voice climbing into mild grievance. "Just that she isn’t taking new commissions, which I don’t believe for a second."
"Then wear something else.You have more than enough."
"That isn’t the point. The point is that specific piece, for that specific reception." She straightened in her chair, brightening slightly with the inspiration of a thought just landing. "If you asked her, she’d do it. She wouldn’t refuse a request from you."
Athea did not answer that. She was reading something, her eyes moving across the display with the particular stillness that meant she had stopped hearing the room.
Aphrodite watched her for a long moment, a slight disappointment crossing her features as the silence stretched and the answer did not come. Eventually she sighed quietly and went back to her Omni-Pad.
The star-charts turned. Somewhere further in the palace, a door opened and closed.
"Have you met Sage Stellan yet?" Athea asked. She hadn’t looked up.
Aphrodite nodded. "Yes, actually. A few days ago." She tilted her head. "Why?"
"No particular reason. She’s been doing interesting work."
"She’s brilliant," Aphrodite said, with the easy generosity she extended to people she found unthreatening. "Very composed. Not what I expected for someone that young." She paused, tapping a nail against the Omni-Pad. "She also has a great sense of fashion."
Athea swiped to another page on her Omni-Pad. "Mhm."
"Also, did you know Sage Stellan has a male pet?"
Athea looked up. It was the smallest motion, only her gaze lifting from the page, but it was the first time in the entire conversation that she had given Aphrodite her undivided attention.
"I’ve heard of him," Athea said.
"I heard about him too." Aphrodite continued in the mildly curious way she was curious about anything that had been circulating long enough to reach her. "Valerie can’t seem to stop talking about him. Personally I think he’s nothing special. He’s just a male, after all."
Athea set down her Omni pad. It was a small movement, and her face did not change, but she set it down and rested her hand flat on the desk for a moment before picking it back up.
"What’s he like?" she asked. "From what you’ve heard."
Aphrodite considered it with more seriousness than the question probably deserved. "Valerie said he carries himself differently. Which apparently is supposed to be impressive." She made a small, dismissive face. "I found that part ridiculous. He’s a male. Of course he’s afraid. He just hides it better than most, which is probably the entire trick of him."
Athea said nothing.
"Do you know him?" Aphrodite asked. The question was casual. It didn’t occur to her that it was anything other than casual.
"No," Athea said. "I know of him."
The door chimed once. Aphrodite glanced toward it. Athea looked up.
"Enter," she said.
A herald in the pale silver livery of the Queen’s household stepped through and inclined her head. "Your Highness. Her Majesty requests your presence."
"Now?"
"At your earliest convenience."
Athea nodded and set the Omni pad down properly this time. "Tell her I’m on my way."
The herald withdrew.
Aphrodite was already on her feet. "I’ll come with you."
Athea turned to her, "No."
"I haven’t seen Grandmother in weeks."
"You’ll see her at your own time. And if she’s busy you will see her at the Lumina gala soon."
"That isn’t the same."
"No," Athea said, "but it will have to do." She adjusted the line of her sleeve and moved past her toward the door. "Find something to wear for the reception. I won’t be long."
She didn’t say it unkindly. She rarely did. But Aphrodite stood there a moment after she’d gone, the Omni-Pad still in her hand, the workspace settling back into its cool, particular quiet around her.
After a few seconds she sighed and left it behind her.
