By the time they reached Arik's suite, dinner was already waiting.
The doors opened into a private residence that looked less like a guest suite and more like a modern imperial apartment temporarily pretending to be diplomatic accommodation. The outer sitting room was wide, quiet, and lit by recessed ether panels along the walls, their glow soft gold against black stone, glass, and polished metal. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling smart glass, Alexandria stretched out in stacked blue transit lines, white-lit towers, and the slow pulse of ether routes running under the streets like veins beneath expensive skin.
The table had been set near the windows.
Not too formal.
Not casual either.
Kamal had found the precise, terrifying middle point between intimacy and nutritional intervention.
