Year 2050

  Month 3

  Selona’s Estate:

  The morning sun glared through the arched windows, their edges casting prismatic rainbows across the polished floor.

  The windows themselves were tall and elegant, framed in dark mahogany with subtle gold inlay.

  Below them stretched a plush carpet of quality and taste. Clare moved carefully along its edge, attending to the row of potted ferns and flowering orchids that lined the windowsill. She ensured the delicate blooms received just enough moisture without drowning their roots.

  Satisfied with her work, Clare turned toward a small antique side table and retrieved the breakfast tray she had prepared earlier. The silver service gleamed in the morning light, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of warm waffles.

  Clare moved through the sunlit corridor of the estate, balancing the breakfast tray as she avoided a puppy and kitten running by.

  She paused outside the study door, hearing the soft murmur of voices within. She gently knocked on the door.

  “Clare? Is that you? Come in.” Clare heard the beckon to enter.

  “Good morning, Lady Selona,” Clare said with a slight bow.

  In front of her sat a beautiful woman, her red eyes held a passion and fiery intensity that was akin to a flaming sea. Selona wore a tailored charcoal suit with gold trim threaded along the seams in thin, deliberate patterns—like controlled flame—while a silver brooch shaped like a rising phoenix clasped the garment at her chest. She wore a ruby pendant that echoed the color of her eyes.

  Selona Mercer looked up from her documents, offering a brief but genuine smile.

  “One moment Clare, please place the tray there. I’m on call,” Selona gestured toward her desk, her attention immediately returning to the holographic display hovering above her wrist.

  “Yes, I’m here. Now listen here,” Selona continued into her call, her tone polite but firm. “The North District needs this public garden. We’ve allocated resources to far less deserving projects in the past.”

  Clare set the tray down carefully, arranging the silverware and napkin just so. As Selona continued her conversation, Clare noticed a pair of elegant shoes discarded haphazardly by the chaise lounge. She retrieved them quietly, placing them in their proper spot by the wardrobe.

  “The environmental impact studies have already been completed,” Selona was saying, her free hand gesturing emphatically. “The benefits to air quality alone justify the expenditure.”

  Clare moved about the room, straightening cushions.

  “Councilor, with all due respect, this is what city of rebirth was made for, to show that there is hope. After the Final war these gardens are in short supply , and this would hold many pieces of the old world for all to remember... yes, exactly.” Selona paused, listening. “I appreciate your reconsideration. We’ll discuss the details at tomorrow’s session.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  As Clare organized the morning newspapers, arranging them by Selona’s preferred reading order, she noticed a ring of dried coffee that stained the edge of Selona’s glass desk. Clare dabbed at it with a cloth, polishing the surface until it gleamed.

  She lifted a silk coat that had been draped over a chair, shaking it out with practiced care and returning it to a hanger.

  Selona tapped her wrist, ending the call with a satisfied nod. “That’s another vote secured. Sometimes I think half of governance is just talking people around in circles until they’re too exhausted to argue.”

  “I’m exhausted and the day just started, Clare,” Selona sighed, leaning back in her chair.

  “Yes, I could tell, my lady.” Clare continued tidying the room, collecting three empty coffee cups, one on the floor, the other next to the bed, and the last in front of a small bookshelf. She then stacked them neatly on a side tray.

  “Clare, with just the two of us, you can call me Selona, as you do with Dante.” Selona noticed a crumpled bill from last night’s takeout dinner and subtly tried to slide it into a drawer with her foot.

  “My lady, I will call you by your name when you stop making my job harder by hiding what I need to clean.” Clare gave her a pointed look, hand outstretched for the bill.

  Selona cleared her throat and retrieved the crumpled paper. “I was going to put that in the recycling.”

  “Of course you were, my lady,” Clare replied with the mildest hint of disbelief.

  “So where is Sai?” Selona asked, changing the subject as she surrendered the evidence of her late-night meal.

  Clare didn’t answer right away. Instead, she paused mid-step, adjusted some misplaced books in her hands with deliberate care, and gave a slight tilt of her head giving Selona a sigh and shake of her head.

  Selona huffed a quiet laugh. “Ah, I see. Lazing around somewhere.” She stretched, arms reaching skyward before she relaxed back into her chair. “Any word about Dante?”

  Clare, almost finished cleaning up, paused. “Nothing yet, ma’am. Tomorrow is the assessment day.”

  “I see...” Selona’s expression clouded, worry evident in the sudden tension around her eyes.

  A moment of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken concerns.

  “Sai has been to the Arena before, correct?” Selona finally asked, breaking the silence.

  “Yes, he is one of the Children of the Arena—those who have passed its trials,” Clare replied as she brought Selona her breakfast tray, setting it carefully before her.

  “I see. In that case I would like for you to kindly call him here. I do wish to ask him more about the Arena, both for my curiosity of it and because of my worry for Dante .”

  Clare nodded, reaching for her communication device. “I understand of course, my lady I shall summon him now. Though I should warn you if you do expect a straight answer from Sai, well getting a straight answer… in fact trying to get anything that requires even the slightest of effort on his part is well... challenging to say the least. To top it off the Arena in itself is a topic Sai tries to deflect anytime it's brought up”

  Clare gestured to the breakfast tray. “Please eat before it gets cold, my lady. Your call already made much of its warmth fade away.”

  A soft beep sounded from Clare’s device. She glanced down at the message and her expression hardened instantly.

  The screen displayed a single response from Sai: “zzz.”

  The sound of ceramic cracking filled the suddenly silent room. Selona jumped, startled by the noise.

  Clare stood frozen, the now-broken handle of a fine porcelain cup clutched in her white-knuckled grip. The rest of the cup lay in pieces on the tray.

  “I apologize for the mess, my lady,” Clare said, her voice controlled but with clear anger.

  …

  After a moment of pause, Clare continued, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Clare, are you—” Selona began, but Clare was already heading for the door.

  The sound of Clare’s footsteps echoed down the corridor, each step filled with fury that was headed for Sai.