Brynna

Nobody spoke much during the clear-up after the race. Adelie and Stefan checked Soot and then wiped him down. Petunia went to race control to sign off on the race classification and formally acknowledge the penalty against the team. Phoebe went to the showers. Brynna found herself milling around with Vermilia and Amity, without an obvious role in the team's post-race routine.

She settled for checking over some of the social channels she monitored while waiting for anything like a sense of direction to emerge. It was mostly the usual, with an additional layer of heated debate about Phoebe's risky manoeuvres and penalty during the race. At least she could be sure Phoebe wouldn't see that stuff anymore, the poor girl was beating herself up something awful about her mistakes.

A news story caught her eye. Hyperio. A press conference being held at the Hyperio estate to announce… something? She scrolled, thumb stiffening. Possibly abdication of Phoebe's father? Transfer of responsibilities to the Marquess, his daughter – Phoebe's sister? What did that mean for Phoebe's hope that House Hyperio would help extricate Tenebrae from its mob entanglements?

Brynna checked the time, strained her frazzled, jet-lagged brain for the time-zone math. The conference was to start on the hour. She caught Petunia as the team manager got back from her bureaucratic duties. They couldn't get the stable's official monitors to show the TV feed, so in the end they pulled it up on Petunia's laptop in the new meeting room and crowded round to watch.

The young woman who appeared at the microphone-encrusted lectern was breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair, fine and knife-straight, was pastel blue, worn in a crisp bob. An infinitesimally delicate tiara of ancient, polished silver sat neatly between her crownfeathers, whose neat blue curls were undergirded by a fluffy white. Her bangs covered one eye, but her other was a piercing turquoise, framed by eyeliner and mascara so precise they looked machine-printed.

Around her neck was a purple ribbon from which dangled a small key. The fur stole of a lilac kimono framed her shoulders and the hollows of her collarbones, pale skin falling away below them into deep cleavage. Her expression was formal and composed, unmistakably aristocratic.

When she began to speak, her voice matched her regal appearance, refined and deep. "Thank you for coming here today, everyone, especially on such short notice. I'm Helia, Marquess Hyperio, and I have a prepared statement, after which there will be some time for questions."

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Her eyes dipped down to the lectern, then back to the still-flickering cameras. "My father, Duke Pirenne, has held the title as head of House Hyperio for over forty years. In that time, he has overseen significant expansions to our portfolio of property and business interests, and maintained our position as one of the great noble houses of Occidens, a position we have enjoyed for many centuries.

"House Hyperio is honoured by and grateful for my father's services. A noble house endures, though, by how its fortunes are entrusted to the next generation, and in this I have been even more fortunate. The Duke has been a wonderful father and has taken great care to train me to eventually inherit his role."

Here again Helia looked down, and Brynna's stomach lurched. What if the old Duke was ill?

The Marquess continued. "Today he has instructed me to begin shouldering some of his duties." Seated in the chair that Brynna was leaning on the back of, Phoebe let out a breath. "As some of you may be aware, recently father has had some minor but persistent health issues, and has been advised to take more rest. Neither his life nor his long-term health is at risk, but we have taken this moment as a prompt to begin laying the ground for an orderly inheritance."

Phoebe started to say something, but cut off with a sudden, uncomfortable noise. Brynna peered at the screen, trying to see what the dragon rider was reacting to. Did the Marquess look more somber, suddenly?

When she spoke again, Helia's voice was stiffer. "Father has asked me to address one more matter, before we get to questions. It concerns… it concerns my sister, and the Imperial League team she has founded, Tenebrae."

Everyone around the laptop froze. Brynna could feel the air cooling. Deep down inside her, timeless power stirred, but there was nothing she could do with it.

"The Hyperio family position with respect to Tenebrae remains as it always has: Tenebrae is not affiliated with House Hyperio, and Phoebe's business interests are her own. Tenebrae has no recourse to House Hyperio funds or support, and House Hyperio places no burdens on Tenebrae. Phoebe does not compete under the Hyperio name, as she should not so long as the preceding is true.

"For the sake of clarity, I would like to stress that at the present time, Phoebe remains a member of House Hyperio. She is not disowned. However," and at that Helia had to pause. Brynna thought she saw the Marquess' throat tighten with a quiet swallow. "However, father has instructed me to say the following: there have been some unseemly rumours surrounding Tenebrae, concerning allegations of involvement in organised crime. Father has instructed me that, if those rumours prove true, House Hyperio is to formally disavow and disown Phoebe."

There was an explosion of noise from the laptop's speakers that was the exact tonal opposite of the silence in the Tenebrae stable office. For a moment nobody moved while the chaos rose and fell in the press conference. Then, quietly, her voice croaking in her throat, Phoebe said, "She warned me he'd try to use her against me."