The gala had been over for two hours.
Vane was in the kitchen.
Not making anything. Hands flat on the counter, the way he stood when he needed something to lean on without appearing to lean. The third version blend sat on the shelf in front of him. He had not touched it.
Outside, Varum ran its late-night register. The second district quiet. The first district quieter. The imperial reception hall dark now, the Domain gone from its walls and ceiling, the warmth returned to ambient.
He heard Varian before he entered.
The footstep — left foot heavier than the right, the same weight distribution. He recognised it the way he recognised the mana architecture. Before deciding to.
Varian came in. He looked at the kitchen briefly. He pulled out the chair at the table and sat down.
He did not perform settling in.
Vane turned around.
They looked at each other across the kitchen table.
"Where were you?"
