Location: Armathane — Alec's Private Strategy Chamber & Serina's Upper Study
Time: Day 352 After Alec's Arrival
A Proposal for Oslo
The chamber was quiet.
No staff. No advisors. Just two chairs and a table between them, polished smooth and bare of any finery.
Alec stood as Elira entered. Not out of courtesy. Out of respect for leverage.
"You requested this meeting," she said.
"I did."
"To offer assistance?"
"To offer expansion."
He didn't hand her a scroll.
He handed her a box — small, made of polished pinewood. Elira opened it without hesitation.
Inside: three folded papers, each marked with a different seal.
One was a supply report showing excess from Midgard's central grain surplus.
Another was a proposed trade route extension linking Armathane to Oslo via three relay hubs.
The last was a Midgard Company contract draft, unsigned, titled:
"Auxiliary Site Expansion: Sector Oslo / Joint Stabilization Project."
She read each page carefully.
Then looked up. "You want to rebuild Oslo's infrastructure under Midgard authority."
"No," Alec said. "I want to help you rebuild it with your name still on the foundation stone."
Elira folded the documents. "Why?"
"Because you're capable. And because Midgard gains more from a strong Oslo than from a burned-out one feeding Selvanis."
"And if I said no?"
"I'd delay," Alec said. "Not withdraw. Your situation is too obvious. Someone will step in eventually. I'm simply offering the least dangerous option."
She smirked. "And the most competent one?"
"Yes."
She stood and circled the table slowly.
"You understand what people will say. That you're planting your flag in my soil."
"They already say worse."
"That I'm being bought."
"You're not," Alec said. "You're partnering. And if it helps, I'm not offering a rescue. I'm offering a test. A project. One site. One route. One cycle."
"And if I sign?"
"We proceed. Carefully. Joint command. My engineers, your foremen. You get the last say on personnel inside Oslo's walls."
Elira raised a brow. "Generous."
"Practical."
A pause. A longer one.
Then she said quietly, "You're not like the men I've had to negotiate with."
"I was never meant to be a man," Alec said. "I was built to be a solution."
Her eyes flicked up.
And in that moment, she finally believed it.
She didn't sign. Not yet.
But she didn't return the box either.
Serina Watches, Then Acts
Serina had seen the two of them talking.
Not openly. Not directly. But from the third corridor, above the glass walk, just past the first gallery of the annex.
Elira's posture was straight. Poised. Commanding.
Alec's body language hadn't shifted.
But his eyes had.
He wasn't assessing her anymore.
He was including her.
That hit harder than she expected.
In her study, Serina sat still for a long time, staring at her open journal.
Half-scribbled notes. Phrases Alec had said. Her own translations of the new language he'd started teaching her. She could still feel his hand on hers from the lesson earlier that week — guiding her grip on the quill.
He never touched her without cause.But Elira didn't need cause.
A knock at the side door.
Lady Alra, of course.
She entered without waiting. She always did.
"You look like a girl trying not to cry."
Serina scowled. "I'm not."
"No. But you're also not breathing."
Silence.
Then: "He's meeting with her again."
"Yes," Alra said. "He is."
"And she's…" Serina paused, choosing the word. "Defined. Sharp. Commanding. It's like watching someone read the future out loud."
"You're describing yourself. Just five years early."
That made Serina blink.
Alra sat down, crossing her legs.
"Do you think I brought you to him for decorum? I brought you to him because you think like a system. You translate vision. And most importantly — he teaches you."
"And her?"
"She commands herself. He respects that. But respect doesn't equal trust."
"Do you think I've earned that?"
"I think," Alra said, leaning closer, "you are the only one he's ever shared something sacred with. And I'm not talking about secrets."
Serina narrowed her eyes. "Then what?"
"Language. His language. His logic. The thing beneath his mask."
Serina looked down at her own fingers. Long. Ink-stained. Still trembling.
Not with jealousy.
With resolve.
"I want to be beside him when this world changes," she said softly.
"Then make yourself unreplaceable. Not through beauty. Through impact."
Later that night, Serina wrote a short letter.
Not to Alec.
To Elira.
Requesting a meeting.