Chapter 206: Chapter 206: Sage Meet Athea

The lecture hall echoed with the low, steady drone of Professor Anya’s voice, a sound that seemed designed to test the endurance of even the most disciplined cadets. She was deep into a breakdown of Vitae Resource Allocation Statutes, her holographic charts spinning lazily in the air above the podium.

Zaeryn sat in the middle row, flanked by Yuna on his left and Jyn on his right, with Morticia seated on the far side of Jyn. He had his data-slate out, stylus hovering over the screen as he made a genuine effort to be a model student. But his focus was being actively sabotaged.

Jyn was bored. And he was beginning to realize that when Jyn was bored, she became a liability to academic progress.

’Now I know why Morticia didn’t want to sit with her,’ he thought, casting Jyn a slightly annoyed look.

"Marea, I regret being here," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. She’d abandoned her notes twenty minutes ago and was currently slumped in her smart-foam chair like she was melting into it. "We should have skipped this class."

"I disagree," Zaeryn murmured back, keeping his eyes forward on the holographic displays. "This is important stuff."

"For you, maybe. But for me?" She shifted closer, her shoulder pressing against his. "It’s a nap waiting to happen."

Her hand, hidden beneath the sleek black surface of the desk, drifted onto his thigh. It started innocently enough—a tap of her fingers to some silent beat—but quickly evolved. Her palm flattened against the fabric of his uniform, warmth seeping through as her fingers began tracing slow, deliberate circles on his inner thigh.

Zaeryn’s stylus slipped across his screen, leaving a jagged line through his notes. "Jyn... stop it," he said quietly, shifting in his seat. He caught her hand with his and pushed it away, though she resisted for a moment before relenting.

Jyn smirked, clearly pleased with his reaction. "Pay attention, anomaly," she teased in a low whisper, leaning even more of her weight against him. "You wouldn’t want to miss the part about... resource management."

Her hand crept back, undeterred.

On her other side, Morticia had finally reached her breaking point. She’d been diligently taking notes, her posture perfect, her focus absolute—but the constant shifting and whispering from the pair next to her were destroying her concentration.

Morticia stopped typing. She turned her head slowly, her eyes narrowing into a glare that could have frozen a Vorthak in its tracks. She looked down at Jyn’s arm, which was clearly angled under the desk toward Zaeryn, then up at Jyn’s completely unrepentant face.

Her frown deepened, lips pressing into a thin line. She leaned forward, peering past Jyn to catch Zaeryn’s eye. Her expression radiated long-suffering patience. "This," Morticia whispered, her voice dripping with dry disdain, "is exactly why I usually refuse to sit next to her."

"Yeah. I understand that now," Zaeryn admitted quietly, trying once again to reposition Jyn’s wandering hand.

"She has the attention span of a fruit fly and the restraint of a toddler," Morticia continued, shooting Jyn another withering look. "If you get us detention because you can’t behave for two hours, I will personally use you for target practice in the Aegis Chamber."

"Goddess, you three are no fun," Jyn complained, finally withdrawing her hand with obvious reluctance. "There’s nothing useful being taught here anyway."

As if the universe agreed with her assessment, a sharp chime echoed through the amphitheater. The holographic charts dissolved into motes of blue light.

"That concludes our overview on sector tariffs," Professor Anya announced, her tone unchanged in pitch or enthusiasm. She tapped her console, and the room’s lighting brightened to normal levels. "Class dismissed. Prepare for practical application tomorrow."

The relief in the room was instantaneous and palpable. The collective exhale of two hundred bored students filled the air as chairs scraped back and data-slates were hastily stowed away.

"Finally," Jyn groaned, stretching her arms high over her head, her back arching dramatically.

Zaeryn stood, discreetly adjusting his uniform pants and grateful for the end of Jyn’s "tactile distraction." He glanced at Morticia, who was already neatly packing her things with precise, efficient movements that somehow conveyed her continued irritation.

They merged into the flow of students exiting the hall, the familiar buzz of academy chatter swallowing them up. As they walked, the sharp, rhythmic chime of Zaeryn’s wrist comm cut through the ambient noise. He glanced down, spotting Sage’s ID flashing on the display.

"Saved by the girlfriend," Jyn observed, peering over his shoulder with a knowing grin. "Checking up on you already?"

"Something like that," Zaeryn said, fighting back a smile. He stopped walking, stepping aside to let other students pass. "I need to take this. You guys go ahead."

Morticia gave him a nod, her eyes flicking to his comm with mild curiosity before she physically steered Jyn forward by the shoulder. "We’ll save you a seat in the cafeteria."

"Thanks," Zaeryn called after them.

He ducked into the nearest restroom, relieved to find it empty. The door hissed shut, cutting off the academy noise and replacing it with the quiet hum of ventilation. He tapped the receiver, and Sage’s holographic face shimmered into view above his wrist.

She looked impeccable as always, though there was a sharpness in her eyes that suggested high-alert mode. The background behind her wasn’t her usual cluttered lab—it was sleek, white, and expensive-looking.

"Hey," Zaeryn said, leaning back against the cool tile wall. "You made it."

"I did," Sage replied, her voice pitched low. She panned the camera slightly, showing off an expanse of marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Capital’s glittering skyline. "Welcome to my new ’quarters.’ The Queendom calls it a courtesy suite for high-clearance personnel. I call it a gilded cage with a very nice view."

"Fancy," Zaeryn said, genuinely impressed despite himself. "How are you liking it so far? Better than the lab?"

"It’s quiet," she admitted, turning the camera back to herself. "Too quiet. It smells like expensive cleaning products and politics. I’d trade all this marble for my half-assembled prototypes any day." She offered him a tired but affectionate smile. "I miss home already. And you."

"I miss you too," Zaeryn said, his voice softening in a way it rarely did. "Can’t wait to see you again."

"Same." Her expression tightened then, the affection replaced by the razor-sharp focus he knew so well. "But before I can start any real work, I have to get through orientation. I’m waiting on a visitor."

Zaeryn raised an eyebrow. The way she said it made it clear she wanted him to ask. "Who?"

"Princess Athea herself," Sage said, the name landing heavily between them. "She sent word she’s coming to brief me personally on the Aegis Division’s priorities."

Zaeryn went very still. The casual lean against the wall vanished as he straightened up, suddenly alert. "Oh. That makes sense." His mind raced, sorting through potential complications and worst-case scenarios. But he didn’t see any immediate threat—provided Sage didn’t mention that she knew about his secret.

"Yeah. I’m actually excited to meet her," Sage said, watching his face carefully. "Do you think we might get along?"

"I don’t know," Zaeryn said honestly. He didn’t know Athea well enough to predict how she’d respond to anyone, let alone someone in Sage’s position. "She’s... complicated."

"Of course we will," Sage said with more confidence than he felt. "I’m her son’s girlfriend, after all."

"Sage, listen," Zaeryn said, his voice dropping to a serious, urgent register. He glanced at the restroom door, ensuring they were still alone. "Athea doesn’t know that you know. So don’t tell her I told you about my royal lineage."

Sage’s expression sobered immediately. "Okay."

"Let’s keep it that way," Zaeryn continued, emphasis on every word. "Because if she finds out you know the truth, she might see you as a liability. She’s spent years—decades—protecting this secret. If she thinks containment is breached, she might panic. And when powerful people panic..."

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Sage took a deep breath, her posture shifting into the cool, collected stance of someone preparing for a high-stakes negotiation. "Understood. I’m just the girlfriend. The scientist. I know nothing about family trees or secret princes."

"Exactly," Zaeryn said, relief seeping into his voice.

"Don’t worry, babe," Sage said, that confident, slightly dangerous smirk returning to her lips. "I know how to handle a secret. I’ll play my part perfectly. She won’t suspect a thing."

"Good." Zaeryn exhaled, the tension in his chest loosening slightly. "Call me after your meeting and tell me everything?"

"Count on it." Her smile softened. "Love you."

"Love you too."

The feed cut, leaving Zaeryn staring at his reflection in the dark mirror of his wrist comm. He took a moment to compose himself, pushing the worry down into a manageable compartment, before unlocking the door and stepping back into the controlled chaos of academy life.

The cafeteria was exactly as loud as he’d expected, a wall of noise constructed from clattering trays, scraping chairs, and hundreds of overlapping conversations. Zaeryn scanned the crowded space, eventually spotting his group near the back by one of the tall windows.

---

Meanwhile, in the Capital Sector, Sage stood alone in the center of her sprawling living area.

The silence felt oppressive after the call ended, broken only by the whisper-quiet hum of the climate control system. She set her wrist comm down on a glass table that looked fragile enough to shatter if she breathed on it wrong.

Walking to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, Sage stared out at the alien beauty of the capital city’s glittering spires. Everything here was designed to impress, to remind visitors of the Queendom’s power and wealth. Even the air felt expensive.

She was still taking in the view when a soft chime cut through the quiet.

"Princess Athea has arrived," the suite’s AI announced, its voice smooth and disembodied. "Requesting entry."

Sage’s heart kicked into a heavier rhythm, but she kept her expression calm and professional. She turned from the window, smoothing down her clothes, checking her reflection in the glass one last time.

This was it. The woman who commanded fleets, controlled sectors, shaped policy across half the known systems, and who had birthed the man Sage loved, only to hide him away like a dangerous secret.

"Let her in," Sage said, her voice steady.

The heavy mag-locks disengaged with a deep, resonant thud. The double doors slid open with mechanical precision.

And Princess Athea stepped through.