Cassian sat, arms crossed, his expression—a glare of thinly veiled irritation—as he watched the floating city from inside the steam carriage.


    Valerian seemed endless with its tiered structure. The upper tier—where Cassian had spent his whole life—was majestic, adorned with ornate domed palaces and tall clock towers. It was full of nobles who did not act from emotion or empathy, but rather from strategy and manipulation.


    Cassian exhaled, irritation crawling under his skin.


    He peered down at the middle tier, the working class. The sound of metal clanging, steam vents hissing, and Skyfarers haggling with merchants echoed through the streets. The market plazas always hummed with life, bustling with foreign traders who brought rare, exotic goods.


    The lower tier was barely visible through the thick smog, which always unsettled Cassian. The deeper he looked, the less polished it became—rusted steel and soot-streaked factories—the true engine of Valerian. It was a world of steam-choked streets, laborers, and endless toil, all hidden beneath the upper tier''s glistening facade.


    Cassian sighed as he noticed Imperial skyguards soaring past, their blaring red lights cutting through the fog. The Empire had woven itself into the very air of Valerian.


    "Forgive me, Master Cassian, but you appear to be sulking," Aldric remarked from across the carriage.


    "Observant as ever," Cassian scoffed, shifting in his seat. "And here I thought I was disguising my enthusiasm so well."


    "Yes, of course. Nothing says ''unbridled joy'' quite like a scowl deep enough to frighten a gargoyle," Aldric added, sitting with perfect posture.


    Cassian ran a hand through his dark hair before letting his head thud lightly against the carriage wall. "This event is ridiculous. A bunch of self-important aristocrats pretending to care about the city''s ''progress'' while they drink overpriced wine and congratulate themselves for achieving nothing."


    "I seem to recall your father saying something similar once. If memory serves, he was at least able to keep a more diplomatic tone."


    Cassian clenched his jaw at the mention of his father. He turned his gaze back to the window, watching the lamps flicker by as they glided along the skybridge.


    "How long does a trade negotiation last, anyway? He''s been gone for weeks," Cassian asked.


    "Trade negotiations in Vortessa are rarely a simple affair," Aldric answered shortly.


    Cassian let out a dry laugh. "Vortessa. Because the merchants of the Free Skies are such an agreeable bunch." He shook his head. "He didn''t tell me any details, just that I had to go in his place. As if I have any interest in keeping up appearances."


    Aldric leaned forward, trying to display gentle warmth despite his expressionless faceplate. "Master Cassian, your title may be an inconvenience to you, but it is nonetheless a reality. House Vaelthorne does not exist outside of matters such as these—you cannot separate yourself from them, no matter how much you wish to."


    Cassian''s fingers curled into a fist on his lap. "I have no desire to be one of them. Why should I have to entertain these people?"


    Aldric placed a mechanical hand gently over Cassian''s, a soft whir of gears audible beneath his brass plating. "Because, my dear Master Cassian, whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, you will always be one of them in their eyes. Your father''s absence will be noted. Lady Evelyn is already ensuring that you represent House Vaelthorne with the dignity expected of you. Vanishing into your workshop and pretending none of this exists is out of the equation."


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    Cassian''s expression soured. "Evelyn can choke on her dignity."


    Aldric tilted his head. "A most uncharitable sentiment, sir, considering she has gone to great lengths to ensure you do not make a spectacle of yourself."


    Cassian let out a chuckle. "She doesn''t care about me. She only cares about the family name—she always has. And if I make a spectacle, what then? What would she do?"


    Aldric''s glowing optics dimmed slightly as he let out a mechanical sigh. "She will do what she has always done, sir. She will turn a sharp gaze on you, remind you of your responsibilities, and ensure that whatever damage you cause is undone before it becomes permanent."


    Cassian exhaled through his nose, arms crossed. "Comforting."


    The mechanical butler tilted his head, his tone laced with amusement. "That is what I am here for, after all."


    Silence settled between them, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the carriage. Then, Cassian let his head fall back with an exaggerated sigh.


    "Fine. I''ll nod and smile and pretend I''m not bored out of my mind. But if it becomes absolutely unbearable, I''m drinking until my suffering is at least entertaining."


    Aldric clasped his hands together with mock enthusiasm. "A most admirable compromise, sir."


    Cassian rolled his eyes as the carriage slowed to a halt. Outside, the towering Celestine Forum loomed over the streets, its golden-lit halls waiting for him.


    "Do try not to start any fights this time, Master Cassian," Aldric remarked as the footman opened the carriage door.


    Cassian stepped out onto the polished marble steps, straightening his coat with a small hint of a smirk. "No promises."


    The Celestine Forum loomed above him, the grandest hall in Valerian. An architectural marvel of marble and brass, its towering arches lined with golden filigree, shimmering in the sunlight.


    Cassian adjusted the cuffs of his tailored navy coat, the polished brass buttons gleaming as he approached the massive brass doors, engraved with Valerian''s insignia.


    Valerian Skyguards, clad in white coats lined with fine gold filigree along the shoulders and cuffs, greeted Cassian with a bow as they opened the doors for him.


    As he stepped inside, a voice, smooth and laced with veiled amusement, greeted him. "Lord Vaelthorne, at last you grace us with your presence. I was beginning to think House Vaelthorne had decided these gatherings were beneath them."


    Cassian turned to see Lord Veylen Duskcroft. He sighed to himself at the sight of his rival. Duskcroft was dressed in a black and silver coat, perfectly pressed. His long blonde hair was neatly tied back. A sharp glint in his pale blue eyes suggested he was assessing Cassian.


    "I see the Empire still allows your voice to pollute the air, Duskcroft," Cassian replied smoothly, offering an insincere smile.


    A gown whispered against the floor as high heels clicked on marble. Lady Evelyn did not greet Cassian with warmth but with a slow glance, measuring his posture, expression, and readiness.


    "I trust you understand the weight of your presence here, Cassian," she murmured, her voice cold.


    Lord Duskcroft chuckled, taking a glass of Valis Red from a passing servant. "Your father was occupied with diplomatic matters, I recall. One can only wonder what business Lord Vaelthorne finds so pressing in such a lawless city."


    Cassian clenched his jaw but forced himself to remain composed. "House Vaelthorne''s affairs are not up for speculation, I assure you."


    "Cassian, my boy!" Marquess Orion Leclair, the eccentric old inventor, strode toward them, his coat covered in faint smudges of grease. "Or should I say, ''the reluctant diplomat''? A shame your father couldn''t make it to dazzle us with another speech on innovation."


    Cassian smirked. "A shame indeed. I''ll be sure to carry out his duties in his absence."


    "I''m sure you will carry them out perfectly." Leclair smiled, shaking Cassian''s hand warmly.


    Lady Evelyn''s gaze sharpened. "Remember, you are expected to carry this event with grace. House Vaelthorne will not suffer embarrassment. Do I make myself clear?"


    Cassian met her gaze, steel-grey against steel-grey.


    "Perfectly clear."