While Maguerite heads to the crisis room, I make my way to my Mistress’s chambers.

An attending servant goes ahead to announce me, then returns to show me in.

“The Mistress is ready for you.” I’m expecting him to add a “Sorcerer Aldain” or at least “Sorcerer” there at the end, but it doesn’t come. I walk in, slightly perturbed at the man’s failure to address me by my title.

All of that is pushed from my mind when I see my Mistress. Her outfit is one I’ve never even seen elements of before; she must have had it commissioned especially for our return to the globe. It’s a vision in ivory lace and black leather. A seamless blend of raw sexuality and timeless elegance, perfectly suited to her.

“Sorcerer, I eagerly await what our return shall mean for me.”

Her smile is the very definition of wickedness, but her eyes are stern and cold. That chilly stare wanders briefly as she stands and glides over to me, her gaze finally coming to rest on the rapier on my belt.

“You’re wearing a sword, Sorcerer. Why?”

She’s not angry that I’ve managed to keep the weapon for all these years, merely curious. I expected that would be the case.

“It’s for Maxwell, Mistress,” I explain as she takes my arm and walks with me to the balcony.

“Is this more of your nonsensical Carlisle ‘honor,’ Aldain? I thought we’d driven such foolishness from you long ago.”

“Not quite all of it, my Lady.”

She giggles as she takes a seat on a luxurious chair-throne on the balcony.

From here, the castle and surrounding  villages stretch out below and before me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I prepare to begin the Sequence of Return for what may be the last time.