“You were right.” he said while looking out of his window in turn, and thinking over the events of the past few hours. His smile, when it came, was genuine. “Today was fun.”

Circe glanced over at him again, and he caught her grin out of his periphery.

“Arthur Magellan, did you just admit to having fun?” she asked teasingly.

“Enjoy it while you can, Circe.” he responded lightly. “It won’t happen again.”

The heiress laughed warmly and snapped her fingers.

“Challenge accepted.”

The drive to the restaurant was a quiet one after that, and Arthur quietly appreciated the views and sights of Pallikári while they drove. With the island having a central elevated plateau and descending land all the way to the sea, the town was built in ‘levels’ ranging out from the undeveloped perimeter of the Leos estate, which also marked the upper limits of the immense island habitation.

Driving to the beachfront took them ‘downward’ steadily as the car navigated through a respectable amount of evening traffic, though the vast majority of people were either on grav-bikes or driving electric vehicles.

True to Circe’s words, there were no air cars visible in the sky above Pallikári, and when Arthur did witness sky traffic from the window, a quick tap of the screen doubling as his window zoomed in on a transport shuttle descending toward the main starport built toward the western edge of the island.

Traffic to and from the spaceport was about the only exception to Circe’s statement, and even then, it was largely limited to back and forth transport flights or the occasional merchant vessel descending through the use of a special license.

It raised questions about why they would choose Pallikári, and what significance the island held to justify a House as prestigious and ostensibly powerful as Leos remaining there. Logically, they should have sought out land in Sparta generations prior.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The Ascendancy was one of the oldest Rim nations, after all, with Hyperion having been settled by the dispatched deep-space Ark-class terran colony ships three hundred years prior. Comparatively, the youngest Fringe nations were each five hundred years old, and many of the dominant Verge and Mantle nations were even older at six and seven hundred years old, to say nothing of the oldest nations in the Core.

Human expansion, for whatever reason, had encountered a notable gap of two hundred years between the colonization of the Fringe and Rim that nobody could provide an adequate explanation for.

His memories from his life on Albion shed no light, either.

It was a mystery many had tried to solve, though none had succeeded.

Given the Imperium’s attitude toward their secrets, the silence was not a surprise.

The worlds in Sol were leagues older than even the oldest extrasolar nations.

But that was, naturally, to be expected. Mars had already been halfway toward becoming an industrial juggernaut of military production and consumer manufacturing before the first extrasolar colonies had even truly developed.

The Imperium, and specifically Terra, had unquestioned primacy for a reason.

Arthur’s thoughts were disturbed by the slowing of their transport, and a warm hand on his arm.

He turned to find lightly tanned feminine fingers on his bicep, and followed them up to Circe’s smiling face. She was leaning toward him from the other side of the car, and her grip on his arm was like the heat of the sun.

Arthur worked to fight through the fugue of her psion density, and the intensity of their incredible resonance while it overwhelmed his better sense. He willed himself to focus with every iota of his mental discipline, and smiled at Circe politely in turn.

“We’ve arrived.” she said warmly. “Follow me, Arthur.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere.” he said without thinking.

Circe’s expression flickered, and then she laughed. “Tease.” she said while turning away.

Arthur could only smile back and, while his Zacaris self mentally snarled at him for being so easily influenced, followed her out of the car into the orange-gold light of the Hellenic dusk.