Evan and Tessa left early. So did Dylan and Mara.

  By the time breakfast was served at the Quill estate, only Graham remained at the long dining table with the four children.

  He sat at the head, calm and upright, and took a slow sip of outrageously expensive organic milk before letting his gaze drift down the table.

  “I heard someone tried to climb the wall and sneak out last night.”

  Cora chewed her toast and answered around it, unapologetic. “If you already know, why ask?”

  Skye—seated beside her—leaned in with bright curiosity. Her green eyes were clear and lively, like shallow water catching light. “Cora, what were you doing? Why did you try to go out in the middle of the night?”

  Cora opened her mouth—

  But Cole cut in first, practically bouncing in his seat. “What else would she be doing? The Alliance Academy’s number-one prodigy, Eliot Shaw, arrived on Nina Station with the patrol fleet yesterday. Last night he rang the clocktower bell himself. The whole city went crazy—every woman ran out to see him. Cora must’ve been going to see Eliot too, right?”

  Skye’s eyes widened. “Really? Eliot Shaw came to the capital? Cole, why didn’t you tell me sooner? And Cora—why didn’t you tell me? Were you going to go by yourself?”

  Cora didn’t answer. She kept eating, calmly working through cheese and toast.

  Honestly, she wasn’t unhappy with Cole’s excuse for her. It made her sound like a harmless fangirl—which was ridiculous, but useful. At their age, being a little starry-eyed was expected.

  Caleb, the other twin, dabbed his mouth with a napkin and gave Cole a stern look. His round, dollish face tried very hard to look like an adult’s.

  “Stop talking nonsense,” Caleb said primly. “The girls are still young. Don’t fill their heads with that.”

  Cole dropped his gaze to his plate, sulking. He had no interest in arguing with Caleb. They might’ve been twins, but they were built from completely different worlds.

  It was almost funny.

  Caleb took after his father—serious, upright, always wearing the expression of someone attending a meeting. His favorite hobby was acting like the household authority over his younger siblings and cousins.

  Cole, born only a minute later, had inherited his uncle Dylan’s temperament: loud, casual, fearless, and always looking for trouble. Unfortunately, that one minute meant Caleb could scold him for the rest of his life with perfect moral confidence.

  Every time Cole was enjoying himself, Caleb was there to pour cold water on it.

  Skye, after Caleb’s lecture, lost interest in questioning anyone. She lowered her head and ate quietly, copying Cora’s indifferent posture.

  Only when the table finally settled did Graham speak again.

  “You mean the boy who made major at fifteen?” he asked thoughtfully. “I’ve heard his mental force is eighty-five. And that among the younger generation, no one can match him in mech command. They call him the first genius.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Skye shot up like she’d been waiting for an invitation. “Grandpa, it’s not just that! Eliot Shaw is also the most handsome officer in the Alliance. I’ve never seen a man that beautiful.”

  Graham’s eyes softened with amusement. “Oh? More beautiful than our Skye?”

  “Grandpa,” Skye complained, cheeks warming. “It’s different. I’m a girl. He’s a boy. You can’t compare.”

  Graham chuckled, then turned his attention to Cora. “And you? Were you going to see Eliot Shaw too?”

  Cora nodded with absolute conviction. “Yes.”

  “If both you and Skye want to see him…” Graham hesitated, then made a decision. “All right. Today I’ll take you both to Clocktower Plaza. If you’re going to look, you may as well see properly.”

  Skye squealed, then immediately deflated. “But will he even be there today?”

  “He will,” Graham said, certain. “This evening there’s a small military demonstration at the plaza. He’ll be showcasing the Alliance’s newest mech. If there’s an audience, he’ll be there.”

  Caleb frowned. “How do you know? There hasn’t been any news about it.”

  Graham smiled. He looked at Caleb’s overly solemn expression, Cole’s shining curiosity, Skye’s bright anticipation—and at Cora, who kept eating as if none of it mattered.

  “Check your terminals,” Graham said lightly. “The notice should be up by now. The local broadcast as well.”

  Caleb’s eyes narrowed with the kind of seriousness only children could manage. “Did you receive an invitation?”

  “I did,” Graham admitted. “I have a seat on the viewing tier. Bringing Skye and Cora will be fine—there’s room.”

  “That’s great!” Skye said, thrilled.

  Cole immediately panicked. “What about me and Caleb? Grandpa, we want to watch too!”

  Caleb nodded, satisfied, as if Cole had finally said something sensible.

  Graham sighed. “The viewing tier only has so much space. And you’re boys. Walter can take you to watch from below.”

  “…Fine,” Cole said, deflated, then muttered under his breath, “Grandpa plays favorites.”

  Caleb, maddeningly calm, nodded at him again like a judge issuing approval.

  Skye let out a quiet snicker.

  Nina Station was also called Rose Station.

  It was a poor world—soil too barren to grow real crops in the open. And yet, strangely, roses thrived everywhere. Green vines crawled over rock and concrete, blooming into clusters of color. Red roses in particular—spilling across hillsides and empty land—were the station’s proudest symbol.

  The capital city was wrapped in them, as if the planet itself wanted to pretend it was softer than it truly was.

  Its second symbol was the clocktower.

  A three-hundred-meter giant rising from the steel forest of high-rises, forged entirely from corrosion-resistant alloy. Four massive swinging bells hung on each face. When they rang, the sound traveled for hundreds of miles.

  That evening, Graham brought Skye and Cora to the viewing tier.

  The seats around them filled with Nina Station’s wealth and influence—people with money, status, and the kind of access most citizens could only dream about. Graham greeted them one by one, smiling smoothly, introducing his granddaughters as he went.

  Skye performed beautifully, sweet and obedient, calling everyone “sir” and “ma’am” with perfect manners.

  Cora sat like a statue, gaze drifting, expression blank.

  No one took offense. Everyone here knew the Quills’ youngest girl had been withdrawn since childhood. They didn’t expect social grace from her. If anything, her detached silence made them nod sympathetically.

  Below the ten-meter-high tier, the plaza was packed with ordinary citizens—an ocean of bodies and noise. Walter stood near the front with Cole and Caleb, keeping them close so they wouldn’t be swallowed by the crowd.

  At the base of the stage, soldiers lined up in dense ranks—troops pulled in from multiple departments and local units for crowd control.

  Cora watched them with a measuring gaze and counted silently.

  Around three thousand.

  Too many to be only city security. Most of these soldiers had been temporarily reassigned from sensitive posts.

  Which meant—

  Among them, almost certainly, were troops from the Agriculture Base.

  The bells began to swing.

  The clocktower chimed, deep and long, pressing down on the noise until the crowd’s chatter fell away in ripples and finally quieted.

  Then Governor Gordon Lane stepped to the front of the stage.

  He was in his fifties, but his body was kept in sharp, disciplined shape. His hair was perfect, his posture controlled. He lifted one hand with a politician’s practiced smile, pressing down gently.

  The last scraps of unrest died.

  Thousands of faces tilted upward, waiting for Nina Station’s highest official to speak.