Julian and Arc
JULIAN FOUND THE scorch mark behind the throne just before dawn.
He stood in the damaged suite with his hands in his pockets, considering the black streak across newly repaired paneling. "I was assured the fire stayed inside the dragon."
LIAR appeared in soot on the wall.
"Thore or Ariana?"
BOTH.
Julian smiled. "Then I suppose congratulations are in order."
The chandelier chimed. Arc had been pleased with itself since the moment Ariana dragged a broken headboard into a fight and Thore chose her over the relic he had guarded for centuries.
The manor took every successful match personally.
It also took structural damage personally, though apparently not enough to stop arranging dragons.
"Before you congratulate yourself too thoroughly, the west suite needs a window."
IT NEEDED A BETTER WINDOW.
"Of course."
The soot vanished. Darkness climbed the wall in its place, swallowing the scorch mark and the gold paper around it.
A tall, narrow figure formed in the black glass of the empty window frame.
It had no face Julian could identify, only a pair of onyx eyes and edges that shifted whenever he tried to hold them in focus.
"Noctis."
HE CALLED.
Julian's brows rose. "You sent him an invitation without consulting me."
YOU WOULD HAVE SAID YES.
"That's not the point."
IT SAVED TIME.
Julian looked at the shadow being. Noctis had spent centuries protecting the boundary between worlds and keeping his own counsel.
"Did he tell you what he wants?"
HE DIDN'T NEED TO.
"Naturally." Julian noticed another scorch mark on the floor. "And who have you chosen for a creature who can enter any shadow but trusts no one inside his own?"
The image changed.
A woman stood in a workroom surrounded by fabric, scissors, sketches, and three abandoned cups of coffee. Dark curls fell over one shoulder as she cut apart a nearly finished gown. She didn't hesitate. The blade passed through an expensive seam, and she smiled at whatever she saw beneath it.
Letters burned gold across the floor.
YARA IbrAHIM. DESIGNER. VISIONARY. IMPATIENT WITH SAFE CHOICES.
Julian studied her. "A human."
THAT IS NOT A FLAW.
"I didn't say it was."
YOU THOUGHT IT LOUDLY.
Julian watched Yara tear another seam from the gown. "She makes a living turning private visions into things other people can see."
SHE HIDES HER OWN.
"And you think Noctis will coax them out of her?"
HE WILL UNDERSTAND THEM.
The image divided. Noctis occupied one side, fluid and nearly invisible. Yara filled the other, holding black fabric toward the light. Neither knew the other existed.
"He maintains the secrecy she isn't supposed to know exists," Julian said. "That could become complicated."
GOOD.
"You enjoy complications far too much."
I'M EXCELLENT AT THEM.
A thick black card pushed itself out of the wall. Gold writing spread across the surface, line by elegant line. Julian caught it before it fell.
Yara's name appeared on the envelope.
"Does she know anything about us?"
NO.
"Good. It stays that way unless she chooses to walk through our door."
CHOICE IS THE POINT.
The manor dimmed every lamp in the suite. Shadows gathered at Julian's feet, eager as hounds. The invitation warmed in his hand.
SHE LIKES THE DARK.
"That doesn't mean she's prepared to find something looking back."
The remaining light went out. Yara's image vanished, followed by Noctis's.
Julian ran his thumb over the sealed envelope. "A woman who creates beauty from darkness and a shadow who wants to be seen. Subtle."
The chandelier chimed.
On the envelope, the gold ink of Yara Ibrahim's name dried beneath his hand.
I DON'T LIKE BEING SUBTLE appeared across the ceiling.
"I've noticed."