Twenty minutes into another intermission, I found who I was looking for in the kitchen. "Sagan?" I tried to ask softly as not to scare her—

"Yip!" She jumped, dropping an entire plate of canapes, some deviled eggs from Pil, thirteen Reipon cocoa nibs, and one banana. All of which I knew was for her alone. "Shit," she added with a little laugh. "How can I help you, bestie?"

Like Tameka, Sagan has a nature about her. It's a different warmth—Bright and a little hyper. The kind of energy that makes you want to go on adventures.

"Yeah... That's it."

I helped Sagan reclaim her provisions before rubbing the back of my neck, feeling uncertain. "I, uhm... I wanted to check in with you and make sure you're doing okay with the latest stories in my Verse."

Sagan's smile availed all my concerns as she assured, "Don't worry about me, Wingmaster. Get your Verse out. I'll keep Korac on this side of polite."

Relieved, I smiled back. "Thank you. I'm so glad it isn't bothering you—"

"It is. Of course, it is." Sagan was still smiling, but it faltered slightly. There was more pity in it. "I know the version of Razor he let you see, because he showed it to me in the beginning. An ally and a confidant. Someone who could understand the worst in you and wouldn't shame you for it. What a rich friendship..." Before I could respond, she placed a hand on my arm and lost some of the sparkle in her violet eyes. "Then he pushed me into the Seam so I could starve to death, because I refused to die having his baby. All so he could torture Korac further. His poison was—is—systemic. You are so lucky you to have only seen the friend in him, and for all he died saving us, I think he deserved at least one person to still feel the way you do about him. But nothing else."

I knew what she was saying. "So no Iona for Razor?"

Sagan shook her head and sighed. "I think not. We're being charitable by telling Echo the good more than the bad about her biological parents."

"Well, since you don't have a problem being honest with me, do you think me childish for denying an Iona for Nox if Razor can't have one?"

Korac chose that exact moment to walk into the kitchen with Pax on his back. His typically composed mask almost hid the ire beneath the play in his eyes. He'd heard our conversation and disguised it well as he announced, "Look, Pax. We found your dad in the kitchen, like I said."

My son wiped the sleep from his eyes and mumbled in a groggy voice, "Thanks, Uncle Korac. Dad, can I have some waffles? Please."

I ruffled his red coils before saying, "Yeah, go find Uncle Caedes and ask him to make them for you the way you like."

Korac let him down, and Pax hugged my side. "Thanks, dad." He took off for the dining/living space where everyone was gathered for brunch, leaving me alone with the two people most likely to advocate for something I didn't want.

Korac glanced from Sagan to me before hopping his ass onto my countertop. "So, what's this about Razor getting an Iona when you won't give one to Nox?"

I sighed and pressed a hand on my brow.

With her arms full of food once more, Sagan said, "You missed some context. Xelan is asking a fair question from his perspective. If Razor doesn't deserve an Iona, why does Nox?"

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Korac bit into an apple, and the juice dripped down his chin until he rubbed it away. He chewed and swallowed before admitting, "I know Nox is no hero. His most unheroic actions are what sent me to the Shadow in the first place, but at least, when he wasn't insane, his intentions were good. 'Save the race at all costs.' The Icarean Prerogative."

"Nowhere in Elden's Verse does it say 'at all costs,' and I agree motives should play a part in the decision. Razor's intentions were mercurial at best, but he never killed his brother, then celebrated by..."

I couldn't bring myself to say what happened to you.

Flat and bitter, Korac said, "No. He only sent his brother to men who would, and when I was a child, at that. I know it hurts more for you because it was Rayne, and you cared—care—so deeply for her, but think about it. Razor made a billion credits each night selling the very experience you don't condone."

Sagan, still holding her bundle of food, looked between the two of us.

I stared at Korac for a long minute, letting his words sink in. It was a hard truth to swallow. The only good which had come from the experiences was that I hacked into those accounts and used them to fund slaves we'd freed from Lukemore six months ago. Still, I must be honest with myself. Razor had never intended the money for a righteous purpose.

"You're right." The couple sighed in mutual relief until I continued. "Neither of them deserve an Iona." I wanted so badly to quit the room with their mouths hanging open, but it felt petty.

Korac blinked at me, and Sagan frowned sadly.

I turned to her and said, "I'm sorry some of my Verse is bothering you. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, I'd understand if you want to leave."

Sagan tried for a weak smile, assuring, "I'm here for the complete story, Wingmaster, and I understand. I won't bring up Nox as a candidate again."

A lead weight dropped in my stomach as if I'd kicked a puppy. "Sagan, I never—"

"We're heading back to your study now. See you there." Korac glared at me as he calmly led Sagan out of the kitchen.

Rayne.

You've went so quiet.

Your twelve-year-old smile is gentle as you assure, "Not for the reason you think. To Korac, Nox is a tragic hero. Maybe even to Sagan and some others in the Shadow—Hell, the entirety of Iona Pax. But despite that, you are entitled to your feelings on the subject."

You're still saving yours to tell me after, yes?

Little you says, "You know it."

Then let's return to the study.

Pax was full from the waffles Caedes made for several people—

Forgive the long pause. I only realized I'd neglected to eat since before the wedding.

Never mind. I'll eat later.

Tameka stood at my side, and everyone found places among the pallet fort inside my study. I glanced over at Smith, who was peeking at the next few pages in the volume like he sought an answer to a question he'd yet to ask. He mumbled something to Lucas as the Icarus walked in, and I fought the urge to eavesdrop.

Instead, I sought Sagan. When our eyes met, she stopped running her fingers through Korac's hair and smiled at me. Pure and affectionate. We were all right.

"Superman, you were worried that one conversation could ruin nearly a decade of friendship?"

I've lost friendships which spanned millions of years for less, or so I'd thought.

Preteen you sits up on the couch, letting the blanket pool around your waist. Your eyes and all the kindness in them refuse to look away from my face. "Xelan, it was never one conversation, and you're wise enough now to know the difference between another nail in the coffin and one in a complicated structure of friendships and family. You're not a monster for voicing your reasons to contest Nox's Iona and trust Sagan to know that."

Coming from you...

Rayne, thank you.