It happened on a Thursday evening.
Not chosen. Not arranged. The twins were with Vaelor and Maren going through the updated compliance documentation, which Caelum had requested to be present for and which Lyra had decided was less interesting than the founders' framework volume Bren had finally located for her, and Mira and Aelara were in the small sitting room off the main corridor with tea and the particular quality of an evening that had run out of things to fill it with.
The performance version of the conversation had been happening since Mira arrived. The careful version, the one that covered the real things with the right amount of warmth and the right amount of distance and never quite touched the ground underneath it. They were both good at that version. They had been doing it in letters for years, the specific skill of saying true things while staying above the level where the true things were hardest.
Mira put down her tea.
She said: "Are we going to have the real one."
