Given that Thais had specifically named the Farzan family as one of their opponents, I wasn’t surprised that they’d try to get in the way, but I hadn’t expected Nastaran to approach to me directly.

“How did you know I was here?”

“The Duval family isn’t the only one with a stake in this hotel,” Nastaran replied. “Try the coffee — it’s a specialty imported Saivanian brand.”

“I’m not much of a coffee drinker,” I declined. “So, the Anthemoessians. What do you think I’m doing and why do you want me to stop?”

“Must I outline everything? How gauche.” Nastaran sighed. “Haven’t you ever had a proper negotiation, Acacius?”

“Do I seem like a diplomatic person to you?”

She gave a tinkling laugh.

“I know about the report you submitted. I also know that you visited the Anthemoessians on their ships, that they gave you a little tour of the area, and that they’ve been courting supporters for that old, outdated, and frankly damaging ritual of theirs. Honestly, what do you see in them that the Farzan family can’t do for you better?”

“Well,” I said. “You wouldn’t want a [Red Flood] incident to repeat itself on your territory, would you?”

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you were taken in by an old superstition that’s already lost its power? There’s nothing to corroborate the Anthemoessians’ fantasies but their own stories. What other source do you have?”

I shrugged. “The Tripartite?”

“The Tripartite lie all the time. You know that personal encounters with them aren’t accepted forms of evidence in court.”

“Don’t you think it’s rather dangerous to dismiss the Tripartite’s words like that?”

“It’s more preposterous to take their ambiguous words at face value. Or should we believe the interpretation of just anyone off the street?”

“You could believe a Duval.”

“Ah,” Nastaran smiled, eyes curving. “But the Duvals lie all the time, too. Your family has been dying to expand your foothold in Farzan territory for ages; should I believe that you’ll support this ritual for purely altruistic reasons?”

“It seems you’re determined to disbelieve me no matter what. But why should you be so afraid of one ritual, Nastaran? So you have a week of questionable weather. So what?”

“Just questionable?” Nastaran laughed scornfully. “The storms generated by that ritual are horrible. You may as well bring all maritime trade in the region to a halt.”

“I think it’s a hit you can afford to take.”

“Oh, affording it is one thing. But accepting it? I think not.” She retrieved a folder from the side of the table and pushed it towards me. “Still, I understand that I can’t expect you to take an investment loss for no reason, either. So here is my proposal. You rescind all backing for the Anthemoessians, and we’ll sign over ownership of the Marietta Ocean Transportation Company to you.”

I took the folder and glanced through the contents — largely legal documents and financial reports that threatened to give me a headache. “And why this company?”

“Haven’t you been trying to take over it for ages?” Nastaran gave me a knowing smile. “Their licenses and papers have just been renewed, and they have a good reputation; the cargo inspections for them will be quite loose for at least a year, I’d say.”

As best as I could tell, she was bribing me with a smuggling company that had authorization to operate in her territory. Just what had the Duval family been up to, that she’d think this would work on me?

“Let me think on this,” I said, closing the folder. “If I agree, I’ll need time to verify the information here.”

“But of course,” Nastaran said with a smile. “Don’t take too long, though — if the situation changes, the offer will, too.”

“A merchant through and through, aren’t you?”

“Why, thank you. I’m so glad we could come to a preliminary accord.”

When I got back to my dorm, I just looked at Nastaran’s folder for a little while before putting it aside. I wasn’t sure what to do with it; if I asked the Anthemoessians to analyze it, would they think I wanted them to give me a bigger bribe? I could’ve asked Cynara for her opinion, too, but I’d just badgered her into doing me a favor and I didn’t want to risk her accepting Nastaran’s offer behind my back.

Without a clear idea on what to do, I temporarily put the matter aside and decided to do something more productive: checking the group chat.

Me: Hey. How’d things go with the void stepping beast today?

Veric: Hey Acacius.

Veric: The beast got very sick today and lost the ability to make long-distance spatial leaps. We’ve managed to quarantine it and put it under observation. Currently we’re working on analyzing the origins of its illnesses. Looks like it might be bioengineered.

Me: Bioengineered?

Roxana: oh no. is it a plague? do you think someone released it on purpose?

Veric: Maybe… We’re worried about possible animal-human contagion now, so the bureau’s setting up contact tracing and monitoring around previously affected sites. We haven’t had any reports of unusual illnesses yet, but who knows if it just remains asymptomatic in humans for a longer period

Veric: Really hope we’re just being paranoid

I frowned.

Me: Have you both been in contact with the beast? How at risk are you?

Veric: Low risk, I think? They gave us PPE including respirators, and we avoided direct contact with the beast. But since the vector of transmission hasn’t been confirmed, there’s always a risk

Veric: Incidentally, the beast’s most notable symptoms today were vomiting up blood and bleeding from all its orifices. Quite handy for taking samples but a bit different from how the epidemic manifested in livestock previously

Veric: Anything we should know about how blood curses interact with possibly bioengineered disease?

Me: Don’t know.

Roxana: LOL

Veric: Worth a shot

Veric: No matter what, it’s good that the beast has finally been quarantined. Thanks for your help.

Unsure of how to respond to that, I exited the chat entirely.

It was good to know that [Blood Omen] had been of use, at least. Too bad that summoning it, or making a sacrifice to it, was as good as telling anyone who witnessed it that I was a prophet. I mean, it was kind of an open secret anyway, but it was one thing to be suspected and another to openly confirm it and put a huge target on my back.

Speaking of prophecy, I was kind of worried about that animal-to-human transmission thing that Veric had mentioned. I didn’t want to see her fall sick with some unknown disease, and, well, Luka too. Even if he’d probably be fine after dying once.

So maybe it was worth checking with [Bound Prophet]?

Before I went to sleep, I decided that I wanted to see “the symptoms produced by the void stepping beast’s disease in any living organism.” Hopefully that would be more informative than simply asking, “Will Luka and Veric be okay?”

That night, I dreamed of large pastures and low, rolling hills. Farmers moved cattle into freshly-harvested fields to graze. Some of the cattle moved up to the fences, nibbling at the lush-growing plants overflowing from the neighboring fields.

Those cattle got sick, weakening until they couldn’t lift their heads to drink. In the lush fields, a dark discoloration finally appeared visibly on the grains and veins of the plants. The darkest patches sprouted a thin layer of gray fluff, whose fuzzy spores broke off and floated away in the breeze. Downwind, the people in a bustling town began to cough.

The dream ended there. When I woke up the next morning, I grabbed Clover and blearily opened up a private chat with Veric.

Me: Hey check the plants on the farms where the cattle were grazing. Unharvested fields too. Monitor for mold, fungus, etc.

Me: DON’T take off your respirator.

Me: And if anyone asks, tell them this is your idea not mine, okay?

Veric: Got it.

Veric: Thanks.

I wasn’t sure how much this advance warning would matter, especially if they probably would’ve noticed the symptoms eventually, but it had to be better than nothing, right?

It turned out that wasn’t the only crisis to deal with that morning, though. Just a couple hours after I got to the empty office of the Department of Interjurisdictional Affairs, Thais came to visit.

“Some bad news,” she said, sitting on my desk. “The Farzans have made a move.”

I sat up straight in my chair. “What happened?”

“A decent number of us fish by trade, yeah? We sell the best, freshest catches in the early morning at the fish market. That’s when restaurants, chefs, and other food workers come to make our bids. Well, all of our regular customers evaporated overnight. Not a single open sale was made today.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “I didn’t anticipate that level of influence.”

Thais shrugged. “The Farzans practically own Thassarin, after all. Don’t know how long they can keep this ban up — our catches are damn good, after all — but it still puts pressure on us. Aunt Eirene got a message from a Farzan family affiliate this morning, too, suggesting that we stop trying to stir the waters.”

Damn. In comparison, Nastaran had been quite civil when approaching me, but that was just because of my perceived social standing. Without the name of “Acacius Duval,” I had no doubt she would’ve happily trampled me down.

“I’m still looking into getting a meeting with someone at the Atmospheric Chancery,” I said. “How long can you hold out?”

“We’re relatively self-sufficient, but there are still things that can’t be made or done at sea…” Thais ran a hand through her hair, pursing her lips. “Let’s give it one week to see results before we call things off.”

But the Farzans wouldn’t stop putting pressure on them if we made real progress, would they? They’d push back even harder. The proposed date for the Anthemoessians’ ritual was still about three weeks away.

“Wait here for a moment,” I said. “Let me give someone a call.”

I went into the back room for some privacy before pulling out Clover and dialing Roxana. Thankfully, even though it was the middle of the work day, she picked up.

“Hey, Acacius!”

“How does the Dragon Shrine usually source its food?”

“Not even a hello?”

“Hi, Roxana.”

“Aw, hi, Acacius. I’m so glad you thought of me. We take community donations, but we also have a budget set aside for food products, especially foods that aren’t often donated but are necessary for a balanced nutritional profile.”

“Is there a temple near Thassarin in need of fish? Like, anywhere within a couple days’ sailing.”

“Well,” said Roxana after a pause, “we are always in need of good protein to serve in our community meals. Fresh meat is highly welcome! That said, we can’t offer competitive prices compared to the usual market.”

“We can leave the specific negotiations to the specialists. In any case, I want to refer a seller; who should I have them contact?”

“I’ll message you some information in a sec. Just what are you up to over there, Acacius? Didn’t you want to take a nice, relaxing vacation at a bottom-barrel department?”

“You know what they say about plans and enemies.”

“Oh, there are enemies now? Are they enemies the Dragon Shrine can afford?”

“Don’t the Farzans owe you a favor? If they start causing trouble, just tell them to shut up for a month.”

“Oh, my,” said Roxana. “What are these dastardly plans of yours to destroy the Shrine’s neutrality? Were you this wicked all along?”

“Isn’t it on you for making up a world where I’m a nice person?”

“But you are nice,” Roxana said sincerely. “Since you’ve already landed yourself two favors in debt with me, and are about to hand me a third.”

I huffed. “And what do you need those favors for?”

“Because you’re such a nice person to have around, of course. Haven’t we established this?” Roxana giggled. “If anything bad happens, make sure to come and save me first, okay?”

A few minutes after we ended the call, Roxana messaged me with the names and contact information of a few priests who worked in Thassarin’s general area. I copied the information down onto a separate piece of paper before heading out the door and handing it to Thais.

“You might be able to sell your catches at a reduced price to the Dragon Shrine, at least. If that seems worthwhile, you can give it a shot.”

Thais raised an eyebrow as she scanned over the paper, then folded it and tucked it away into her vest. “This didn’t cost you too much, I hope?”

“Nothing I’m too worried about. Just give me an update when you come by tomorrow.”

After Thais left, I took a moment to contemplate how strange it felt to inhabit a social position with so much sway. A combination of my current connections and the name I was hiding behind, I was sure, but even without full context, the amount of weight I could throw around seemed a bit unreal.

I didn’t plan on keeping this identity forever, so all the power and privilege that came with it was temporary anyway, but I should be more careful about how I treated others from here on out. It seemed like it’d be even easier to accidentally punch down on someone than I’d previously realized.

If I compared my current position to a quantum territory owner in my old world, then it was pretty amazing that anyone outside that circle would be willing to talk to me at all, let alone do something like ask me for help. Unfortunately, not everything could be understood in terms of what I knew.

There wasn’t much I could do to advance my plans but wait, so I spent my day at the department reading through a book about the Hierarchs.

What I learned was that the Hierarchs were neither invincible nor immortal, though they did not appear to have a natural limit to their lifespan. Sometimes, a Hierarch simply vanished from history, though all known causes of a Hierarch’s end were due to being killed. Such a slaying was considered a Legend-level feat.

At any given time, there were no more than seven Dragons and no more than three Phoenixes in the world; should one of them to perish, another Dragon or Phoenix would eventually appear and take the position of its predecessor. The current-day Dragon of Rage, for example, had emerged around five hundred years ago, after the Dragon of Hatred disappeared; the current Dragon of Sorrow was speculated to be between nine hundred and thirteen hundred years of age, following the slaying of the Dragon of Lamentation.

The Scribe’s Chimeras were far more mysterious and elusive. It was uncertain how many of them there were, or if they had a limit to their numbers the way the other Hierarchs did. It was speculated, however, that a Chimera generally emerged after the concurrent death or disappearance of two or more Hierarchs. As such, a common — though unproven — theory said that the Chimeras were created out of dead Hierarchs. It was also speculated that a Chimera’s birth was correlated with Kosmonymia’s infamous hidden periods of history.

That, combined with what I’d learned from Thais about “previous iterations” of the First Singer’s stories, didn’t give me a great feeling.

If [Bound Prophet] wasn’t a title inherited from past prophets, then Acacius had to have been a prophet before he received the title. He seemed concerned with visions of the end of the world. Had he gotten glimpses of “previous iterations,” somehow? But wouldn’t that count more as seeing the past than seeing the future?

I didn’t know how the Tripartite decided these things. If I had the opportunity in the future, should I try asking…?

Maybe after I got answers about my own world, first.

After my evening meal, when I returned to my dorm, there was an elegant slate-gray envelope that had been slipped under the door. It was embossed with silver and had opalescent wax seal embossed with the initials, X.H.

I peeled the envelope open and unfolded the lightly scented creamy paper inside.

Acacius Duval,

You are invited to a luncheon this Saturday from noon to one at the Wayfarer’s Way. Up to one guest is welcome to join.

Please present this invitation to the greeter to be escorted to the meeting room.

Cordially yours,

Lady Xiomar Humayun, née Yadamsüren
Head of the Atmospheric Chancery
Second Seat of the Council of Myths

Holy hell. Cynara had done it.

I found Clover snoozing on the kitchen table and hurriedly opened my messages.

Unknown Number: Acacius, this is Cynara

Unknown Number: I had a formal letter with the Duval and Morgan family seals delivered to Lady Xiomar. I believe her office should have marked the letter as high importance, but that only guarantees that they’ll look at it quickly, not that they’ll move as you hope.

Unknown Number: I burned up quite a few favors getting this done, so don’t ask me any more than this.

It was timestamped to this morning. Apparently, Cynara and Lady Xiomar both moved fast. Perhaps I should send a thank you to Xander as well.

I saved Cynara’s number and shot back a quick message.

Me: Successfully secured a meeting with her.

Me: Thank you.

Then I checked the group chat.

Veric: The void stepping beast died today. Signs of bioengineering were confirmed during the autopsy. They’re going to call in Professor Lazard for his expertise

Veric: Looks like the disease was actually targeting agricultural output, the livestock were collateral damage

Roxana: have the cause and vector of transmission been confirmed?

Veric: A rapid spreading fungal infection of sorts, I think? There’s a latency period before symptoms show up on the infected plant. We think that spores might have already been carried to nearby fields. The bureau’s practically on fire right now trying to figure out containment measures

Roxana: is it targeting a specific crop?

Veric: Not as far as we can tell. We’ve found infected samples of wheat, maize, barley, rye, nearby wild grasses… plant magic seems to invigorate the infection, so the state’s emergency food production systems are at risk too

Veric: The only bright side is that we haven’t seen any infected non-grasses yet

Roxana: so this bioengineered virus might put the general ecosystem at risk, too? how awful.

Roxana: no wonder they’re calling in lazard

Professor Lazard… He was that scruffy, droopy professor who’d helped Professor Raoul run the make-up exam. He’d also said that Nithemoore students should explore and take risks while Nithemoore was still there to support them through their mistakes. I guess he’d get to put his words into action now.

Me: Any human infections yet?

Veric: Some respiratory irritation, nothing more serious than that yet

Veric: I thought I wouldn’t be much help, since my healing’s been… you know. But they’ve got me working overtime setting up barriers to create sterile environments for testing near the quarantine sites

Me: Didn’t know your barriers could do that.

Veric: It’s a recent development. Some mentors in the bureau have given me training exercises to fine-tune my filtering control. They’ve also given me ideas on combining my purification and barrier techniques

Me: Congratulations.

Roxana: and how are things on ur end? any update on that favor u asked me for this morning? :p

Luka: favor?

Me: Forget it.

Roxana: he’s selling fish.

Luka: ??

Veric: What is it with you and fish these days?

Me: I said forget it…

And finally, a message from M.

M: hey.

M: heard ur meeting up w xiomar? lol

Cyprian had mentioned that M was on the Council of Myths, which Lady Xiomar’s letter had also declared herself to be a part of. Were they close?

Me: Yeah. Any tips?

M: u already screwed the pooch w this one. she hates ppl who act like theyre above the rules.

Me: Well, you know what they say about the law. “It should protect the weak and bind the strong, but in reality, it binds the weak and protects the strong.” There’s no reason to overly respect it.

M: lmao arent u one of the strong ones in this situation?

Me: Can’t say as much for my plus one.

There was a pause in conversation that made me think our exchange was over. However, right before I planned to sleep, Clover chirped with a new notification.

M: considering ur identity and her late partners death, u should let ur plus one do the talking.

M: if u do talk, be polite, cut the bullshit, and be honest about the pros n cons of ur goals.

M: if u can do that, ull get further w her than p much anyone else of ur station has.

Her late partner’s death…? Was it related to the nobles in general, or the Duvals in particular?

Well, I didn’t plan to do much talking, anyway.

Me: Thanks for the advice.

The next day, at the office, when Thais came in, I said, “I got a meeting booked with Lady Xiomar tomorrow at noon. I only have one open spot, though. Who’s coming?”

Thais stared at me for a long moment.

Then she said, “Most likely Aunt Eirene. She’s a friend of the family you haven’t met with. She’s got the most experience with navigating your bureaucracy.”

“I’ve got it on good authority that Lady Xiomar prefers keeping things clear and straight to the facts.”

“Then she’ll get along with Aunt Eirene like a house on fire. Any formal dress?”

I showed Thais the invitation. “It’s at a private room at the Wayfarer’s Way.”

“I see,” said Thais slowly. “Very formal, then.”

She scrubbed a hand through her hair and sighed.

“I’m going to have to rearrange my whole day. Good thing the proposal is almost done; I’ll give Grandma and Aunt Eirene a heads up. Where should we meet tomorrow?”

“I can wait for you in front of the restaurant.”

“Then we’ll see you there.”

It was another quiet day at the office, so I started reading through a book Miss Bakhta had recommended to me at the library, titled Myths and Legends in Antiquity. It gathered together historical records on mythological figures, and there was a whole chapter dedicated to Melchior and the [Red Flood] incident.

Historical sources largely corroborated the Anthemoessians’ version of things; Melchior had stayed with one of their clans for some length of time before returning to his kingdom with an unprecedented new power, taking it over and launching a bloody crusade across three continents.

Non-Anthemoessian historical records speculated that Melchior had learned a secret and powerful blood art from the Anthemoessians, which the author noted had resulted in malice and prejudice towards them throughout the centuries: “Doubtless these rumors are false, or the Anthemoessians would have rained down bloody terror on anyone who attempted to persecute them in the days afterwards.”

Melchior hadn’t been very forthcoming about the reasons for his war, relying mostly on might and terror to drive his army forward, but the people who’d survived under his command had guessed that the war was in some way the price for Melchior’s newfound power.

It was recorded that the seas had turned red, and that people believed it to be a title spirit of Melchior’s; it was widely uncontested that the Dragon of Hatred had killed him. However, regarding the Bright One and the origins of the Ritual of the Buried Storm, there was no mention.

The Anthemoessians had been willing to share the story with me, so I could only conclude that the reason why this author hadn’t included it was because they hadn’t asked or hadn’t deemed it legitimate enough to include in the book. I guess that made the prevailing cultural attitude towards the Anthemoessians clear.

It was something I found hard to understand, as an outsider, but there were plenty of race and class divisions in my world that likely would’ve felt absurd to outsiders, too. I’d just have to do my best to be mindful of how my current social identity related to them.

I also tried to skim through a book on aristocratic etiquette, just in case I’d need it tomorrow. As it turned out, there were a lot of rules about how to hold eating utensils, and using special forks for eating grapes or scooping out crab meat, and how to identify the quality of someone’s tailored clothes, and so on. Even knowing that these were culturally specific indicators of wealth and status, it was hard for me to understand why anyone would even care. Once the words started running together, I gave up on that book altogether.

I didn’t have too many messages that night. The first was a missive from Tarascus.

Tarascus: VALUED CUSTOMER!

Tarascus: i SINCERELY APOLOGIZE for the UNPRECEDENTED DELAY in your commission.

Tarascus: these delays are the result of my UNRELENTING PURSUIT of UTMOST PERFECTION!

Tarascus: the final pin will be a MASTERPIECE that NO LONGER SEWS LAYERS OF CLOTHES TOGETHER.

Tarascus: this has proved to be TRICKIER THAN I THOUGHT. but HAVE NO FEAR. for there is NO ARTIFACT TOO GREAT for the GREAT TARASCUS to master.

Me: That’s fine. The interim pin is tiding me over with no problems so far.

Tarascus: but of course. you will never SETTLE. for just that. RIGHT?

Me: I look forward to your final result.

Tarascus: FANTASTIC.

Tarascus: i expect it will be another few weeks before i am SATISFIED.

Tarascus: AT WHICH POINT. the final payment will be due.

Me: A conversation with the demon in your arm, right?

Tarascus: CORRECT.

Tarascus: the duke is MOST PLEASED that you have not forgotten your contract.

Then there was the group chat, which had been completely silent all day.

Me: Update?

Veric: Luka and I investigating on side

Veric: Possible spirit involvement

Me: Normal spirit or Luka’s kind of spirit.

Luka: .

Me: ?

Roxana: ??

There was no further activity in the chat that night, which had me kind of worried, but the cooldown for [Bound Prophet] wasn’t over yet, so I had to wait before checking anything with it again. Feeling rather useless, I channeled my energy into preparing more food for my food stash before going to sleep.

The next day, I picked out the fanciest-looking suit from Acacius’ closet. It was still made with the same deep magentas and purples of the rest of his wardrobe, but the patterns embroidered on the lapels and cuffs in gold thread were much more elaborate, plus there were some dangly bits of pearls and gems that added extra flair. I took more care styling Acacius’ hair than usual and was extra neat with the white scarf thingy that was supposed to be tied around the neck. Then I set off to the meeting point via public transit, where I got some odd looks, before arriving at the destination fifteen minutes early.

The Wayfarer’s Way was a restaurant built with polished black stone and adorned with marble inlays and the occasional gold accent. The fancy terrace out back had a good view of the city from the slope of the hill.

After speaking to the waiter at the door, I took a seat in the entrance waiting area. It only took a few minutes for Thais to arrive.

Accompanying her was a short, stout woman with dark green-tinted hair shaved nearly down to the scalp and deep brown skin. She wore a deep emerald suit and flared pants, so green they were nearly blue. Sharp black eyeliner matched her black lipstick, accentuated by the spiked piercings beneath her full lips and along her eyebrows. A orange glow burned in the center of her black eyes like molten steel.

Thais nodded to me in greeting as I stood up. “Acacius. This is—”

“Eirene,” the woman interrupted, holding out a calloused hand for me to shake. “Head Artisan and Materials Engineer at Obsidian Works, and the occasional Chairman of the Anthemoessian Diplomatic Committee.”

Her strong grip nearly crushed my fingers. “Glad you could make it,” I said. “Is your pitch ready?”

“Ready and raring to go.”

“Good, because I’m planning to leave most of the talking to you.”

Eirene raised an eyebrow. “Nothing to say yourself?”

“Hm. I was the one who requested the meeting, so I guess I should do introductions. Do you need me to say anything?”

“Why don’t you nod along seriously and add in a few ‘she’s right’s to the conversation?”

“Seems doable.”

Thais handed the folder tucked under her arm to Eirene. “Good luck, Aunt Eirene. No pressure, but this is all riding on you.”

Eirene snorted. “No pressure, indeed.” She reached up and rapped Thais on the forehead with her knuckles. “Go get something to eat and forget about everything while we’re busy. We’ll meet you outside in one hour.”

Thais rubbed her forehead with a sigh. “Guess a smoke break couldn’t hurt.”

“I said to get a meal, not a cigarette.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll put something in my stomach besides smoke and ash.”

Once she departed, I spoke to the waiter again and showed her Lady Xiomar’s invitation. She had a server take us up the elevator to the top floor, where he knocked on the door to a private room.

“Honored customer, your guests have arrived.”

A calm, detached voice replied. “Come in.”

The server opened the door and ushered us in with a bow.

The room inside was comfortably spacious, with an elegant black chandelier hanging over the round table in the center, and gauzy beaded curtains draping over its floor-to-ceiling windows.

Standing by the windows was a tall woman with long, glossy black hair and a dark gray cloak that fell down to her black high-heeled boots. Subtle patterns reminiscent of wind maps or contour lines shifted over the cloak as she turned to face us, revealing a luminous, oval face and a shimmering silk gray dress. She had the features of a classic East Asian beauty, with high cheekbones, a straight nose bridge, bright eyes, and red lips. A “pure beauty” who would’ve belonged right inside a quantum territory, as compared to the colored and mixed heritages that abounded outside of them.

She only glanced at me for a moment before her gaze was drawn away to Eirene. There, her attention stayed as she swept an elegant hand out to the table.

“Welcome,” said Lady Xiomar. “Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”

Chapter 73 Back to Index