March – Virelia Summit Hall, Final Day of Negotiations
The Final Assembly
The great hall felt colder than before.
Jay adjusted the cuffs of his jacket as he entered with Christin, every step echoing across marble floors. The air was taut. The votes would be cast. The proposal would rise or fall. And their names—especially his—would either be cemented or quietly erased.
He glanced sideways at Christin.
She wore a dark navy dress suit—minimalist, refined, commanding. The kind of attire that spoke for her before she even opened her mouth.
Jay tried to steady his breath.
He had thought he was ready.
But this moment felt too large. Too final.
Lady Arienne Duvall opened the session with a simple line:
"This council will now decide on the trade oversight proposal introduced by House Markov and supported by House Aldwynn."
Jay could barely breathe.
Christin sat beside him, still as stone.
Then the voting began.
One by One
House Freycourt—yes.
House Amsel—no.
House Hanthorne—abstain.
House Bellarose—yes.
House Duvall—yes.
House Carthridge—yes.
House Langreave—no.
House Orell—yes.
House Varkel remained.
Jay gripped the edge of the table. Seven votes. One more. Just one.
The delegate from House Varkel stood. An older woman, wrapped in silver robes, quiet until now.
"We believe in balance," she said. "And in transparency. So, we say…"
A pause.
Then:
"Yes."
The room erupted in murmurs. A flicker of voices, some surprised, some bitter. Jay didn't move.
Christin allowed herself a breath.
Lady Arienne raised her hand. "By council majority, the proposal is passed."
The gavel struck once.
And it was done.
Jay blinked.
He had prepared himself for the worst. He wasn't ready for the win.
III. Aftermath
People crowded the floor. Some extended congratulations. Others offered clipped nods. Voek did neither—just exited swiftly, without a word.
Jay remained still, barely hearing the voices.
He saw a minor house envoy nod toward him with quiet respect.
Another offered to shake Christin's hand.
There were no victory speeches. No celebratory applause.
Just acknowledgment.
And that, to Jay, felt bigger than anything else.
They'd done it.
Not by luck.
Not by bluff.
But by standing together.
Christin touched his arm lightly. "We should go."
He nodded, rising.
Not with swagger.
But with something deeper.
Confidence earned.
As they exited, Jay glanced back at the table.
He didn't know when he'd return to a place like this.
But the next time he did—he knew he'd belong.
That Night
The suite was quiet again.
Jay sat by the window, staring out at the glowing skyline, still dressed in summit formals. His jacket was off, sleeves rolled up, tie undone.
His mind wouldn't stop replaying the moment the vote passed.
Christin entered moments later, barefoot, hair still in place but her blazer long discarded.
She had changed into a soft gray sweater and slacks—comfortable, casual, a side of her he rarely saw.
He didn't turn.
She didn't speak.
For a long moment, they simply existed in the same breath.
Then Jay finally said, "You always knew we could do it, didn't you?"
Christin walked over slowly. "No. I knew you could."
Jay glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "Me?"
She nodded.
"You stepped into a world you weren't trained for, and you didn't flinch. That's rare."
Jay looked away, his voice softer. "I didn't want to lose."
"Because of the mission?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Because of you."
Christin didn't smile. Didn't tease.
Instead, she stepped closer.
And gently rested her forehead against his.
"You're not the only one who was afraid of losing something."
Their hands found each other without trying.
Real and fragile and quiet.
They stood there for a long time.
No guards. No titles. No strategy.
Just me and her.
Human.
Vulnerable.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For seeing me as something more than a name on a family crest."
Jay closed his eyes.
Then, softly:
"You were always more than that."
Outside, the city lights flickered.
Inside, something between them finally settled—not finished, not fully understood, but no longer hidden.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow, they would return.
But tonight... they rested.