Zarek was summoned.
Not formally.
Not publicly.
Which made it more interesting.
The Astrologer's chamber did not resemble the rest of the palace.
It was older.
Not in structure… but in intention.
The air held weight differently here… less polished… less obedient. Instruments lined the walls in careful arrangement… star charts layered across tables… records sealed and resealed until truth and revision blurred together.
And at the center…
The basin.
Zarek paused.
Not long.
Just enough.
Intriguing…
It was not the same.
But it was close enough to be recognized.
A reflection of something that should not have been replicated by mortal hands.
He stepped forward.
The officials were already waiting.
"This will not take long," one of them said.
It was meant to sound reassuring.
It did not.
Zarek inclined his head slightly.
"As you wish."
They did not begin with accusation.
That would have been inefficient.
"Your report," another minister said.
Zarek did not answer immediately.
He knew the structure.
A question disguised as procedure.
"I found no confirmed source," he said.
"Unusual."
"Yes."
A pause.
"And yet the attempt failed."
"Yes."
"Cleanly."
Zarek met his gaze.
"Yes."
Silence followed.
Measured.
Careful.
"You arrived shortly before the first incident," the minister continued.
"Yes."
"And since your arrival… escalation has occurred."
"Yes."
The pattern was clear now.
Zarek almost smiled.
"You understand the concern," another said.
It was not phrased as a question.
"I understand the observation," Zarek replied.
A flicker of irritation passed through the room.
Subtle.
But present.
The Astrologer had not spoken.
Until now.
"You do not read correctly," he said.
The room stilled.
Zarek turned slightly toward him.
"How should I read?" he asked.
The Astrologer's gaze sharpened.
"Human," he said.
Zarek considered that.
"I am functioning as assigned."
Not an answer.
Not a denial.
The basin shifted.
Just slightly.
Zarek felt it.
Not power.
Not fully.
But something beneath it… responsive… watching.
A reflection of Heaven… imperfect… incomplete… but dangerous in its imitation.
They are closer than they understand, he thought.
Which made them more dangerous.
Not less.
"You will remain under observation," one of the ministers said.
Zarek inclined his head.
"That is already the case."
Another flicker.
More pronounced.
The questioning continued.
Circular.
Measured.
Never direct.
Always testing.
Zarek answered what was required.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
By the time he was dismissed…
They had learned nothing.
And suspected everything.
Zarek returned without haste.
Seraphae was where he expected her to be.
"They questioned you," she said.
Not looking at him.
Not asking.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Zarek watched her.
"Because I am new," he said. "And the pattern is inconvenient."
She exhaled softly.
Annoyed.
"Of course it is."
A pause.
"They suspect you."
That, finally, made her look at him.
"Do they?"
"Yes."
Her expression did not change.
But something beneath it did.
Sharpened.
Controlled.
"They are overstepping," she said.
"Yes."
"They have no authority to question you."
"No."
A pause.
"They seem to think they do."
Zarek studied her.
"And what do you think?" he asked.
Her gaze held his.
Calm.
Certain.
"I think," she said slowly, "they lost the right to decide anything that concerns me… the moment they chose Rosaline."
Silence settled.
Not heavy.
Not uncertain.
Resolved.
Zarek inclined his head slightly.
"Understood."
He did not ask what she intended.
He did not need to.
The Astrologer did not expect interruption.
That was his first mistake.
The doors opened without announcement.
Not violently.
Not abruptly.
Simply.
Decisively.
The room shifted.
Not in sound.
In attention.
Seraphae stepped inside.
Unescorted.
Unannounced.
Unapologetic.
The officials rose immediately.
Not out of courtesy.
Out of instinct.
She did not acknowledge them.
Not at first.
Her gaze moved instead through the room.
Measured.
Observant.
The charts.
The instruments.
The records.
And…
The basin.
Her attention lingered there.
Just a moment longer than necessary.
Noted.
"My lady," one of the ministers began.
Seraphae lifted her hand slightly.
He stopped.
"You've been asking questions," she said.
Her voice was calm.
Even.
Controlled.
Not raised.
Not sharpened.
Which made it worse.
"We are ensuring—"
"You are interfering," she corrected.
Silence.
Immediate.
Complete.
Her gaze moved between them.
One by one.
Assessing.
Not reacting.
"My affairs," she continued, "are no longer your concern."
The words settled cleanly.
Without force.
Without hesitation.
A pause.
Confusion followed.
Carefully hidden.
Poorly concealed.
"My lady," the Astrologer said slowly, "your position—"
"My position," she interrupted, still calm, "is not under review."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"You will cease your inquiries," she said.
Not a request.
Not a negotiation.
A conclusion.
The officials exchanged glances.
Subtle.
But visible.
"And if we do not?" one of them asked.
There it was.
The test.
Seraphae looked at him.
Really looked.
For a moment…
He understood exactly why they had feared her as a child.
"Then you will learn," she said softly, "what happens when you mistake proximity for authority."
Silence.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
She let it linger.
Just long enough.
"I will be the next Empress," she added.
The words landed differently.
Not prediction.
Not ambition.
Statement.
Confusion sharpened.
Because they understood the implication.
And it did not align with the current arrangement.
Seraphae did not clarify.
She did not explain.
She did not need to.
"You will adjust accordingly," she said.
The Astrologer bowed first.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Not in submission.
In recognition.
The others followed.
Not all at once.
But enough.
Zarek remained where he was.
Watching.
Not surprised.
But… interested.
Seraphae turned.
Left as she had entered.
Without waiting for dismissal.
Without acknowledging the shift she had just created.
The room did not recover immediately.
That was telling.
They had questioned the wrong presence.
Now…
They would learn which one mattered.