"After my parents died, my father first and then my mother, Uncle Canelo took it upon himself to secure my place as rightful heir." Fiona kept her eyes on the park below, her voice carrying the particular flatness of someone recounting something they have made peace with. "And to ensure there was no competition, he suppressed Roxanne. Every time I raised a word about it he increased her punishment." She paused. "So I stopped raising words about it."
Vangelis looked at her carefully. "Do you believe she will ever forgive you?"
"No," Fiona said without hesitation. "And if I were her I would not forgive me either." She straightened slightly. "The most I can do is allow her to have this moment. Let her enjoy what she has built here." A quiet beat. "I have also made it clear to her that if she decides to move against what is mine, there will be consequences."
"You truly believe she would hurt you?" Vangelis asked.
Fiona turned from the railing and met his eyes.
"It is not about what I believe, my Lord. It is about what I cannot afford to assume." She smoothed her gown with one hand. "Protecting what is mine is not paranoia. It is my duty."
She turned and walked back into the room without another word, leaving Vangelis alone on the balcony with the sound of the applause still rising from the park below.
Vangelis watched the exchange and then followed back inside.
"This is your new teacher," Matriarch Valeria said, stepping aside. "He will guide you through cultivating your powers and help you discover new ones."
The man who stood before Roxanne carried himself the way very few people do, as though the space around him naturally adjusted to accommodate his presence. He was striking without effort, the kind of attractive that arrived before any single feature could be named.
"I am Lord Zephyron," he said, his voice unhurried and certain. "Your tutor from this day forward."
Roxanne studied him for a brief moment then nodded.
She turned and headed back into the palace.
"Are all the bags ready?" she asked as she moved through the corridor.
"Yes Your Grace," the maids responded in unison.
Shortly after, Vangelis and Fiona appeared, moving through the entrance with their attendants behind them. The cars waited outside.
Vangelis turned to Roxanne.
"I am leaving the court, the palace, the city and its people in your hands. You are in charge while we are gone."
"You need not worry, my Lord," Roxanne replied. "There are remarkable people here who will work alongside me. Everything will be well kept."
Vangelis held her gaze a moment longer than necessary. Then he nodded and turned toward the car.
At Redlunar
Beta Korran guided Hazel carefully to a chair set in the snow, his hand steady at her arm until he was certain she was settled.
Hazel turned her face outward, sensing the openness around her.
"There are no trees here are there," she said. "No greenery. Nothing but snow in every direction."
"The Lord of this city commands snow," Korran said, settling beside her. "That is why Redlunar is the way it is. And most of the natives here do not carry the kind of power that produces life or growth. What they carry is force. Wind, water, tsunami, tornado."
Hazel considered this for a moment.
"So every power here is essentially just for havocs. Causing disasters," she said.
Then she smiled.
It arrived quietly, unhurried, completely unguarded, the kind of smile that does not know it is doing anything to the person watching it.
Korran went still.
Hazel tilted her head slightly, her veiled face turning toward him.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked. "I can feel it. The way you are looking at me has changed."
Korran blinked.
"You can sense that?" he asked. "Even through the veil?"
"I lost my sight," Hazel said simply. "Not my instincts."
"Yes, even through the veil," Hazel said. "I cannot see you but I can feel it. The way your eyes are searching me, like they are trying to reach somewhere deeper than the surface."
The air between them shifted, thickening into something neither of them moved to name.
Then Hazel drew a sharp breath.
Her hand flew to her stomach, her fingers pressing gently against the swell of it as her face changed entirely, surprise dissolving into something soft and wondering.
"The baby kicked," she said quietly.
Korran leaned forward instinctively, his eyes dropping to where her hand rested. "I saw it."
A silence settled between them, warm and unhurried.
"Would you like to feel it?" Hazel asked.
Korran hesitated. "Is that alright?"
She answered by reaching for his hand and guiding it to her stomach, placing it carefully over the place where the movement had been. They sat like that without speaking, waiting.
"Can you feel it?" she asked.
He did not answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on her stomach and something in his expression had gone very still and very present all at once.
Above them, from the upper floor of the building, Phoenix stood at the window looking down at the scene below. His face gave nothing away. He simply watched, his eyes moving between Hazel and the hand that was not his resting on what was.