Return

The chill of the dungeon's frozen wastes still clung to Mikhail's bones as he materialised in his basement. 

Reality rippled briefly before settling, the temporal currents smoothing themselves like disturbed water returning to calm.

"Barely 3 hours have passed here," Aurora observed, her new form radiating light that turned the basement's shadows into liquid gold. Her impossibly beautiful features reflected concern. "The temporal dilation worked perfectly."

"Too perfectly," Mikhail muttered, checking a nearby timepiece. "We spent 3 years in there, but barely any time has passed here." 

He turned to his transformed companion, his expression serious. "Aurora, for now, you need to stay in the Personal Dimensional Space. We can't risk anyone seeing you like this yet."

She nodded, understanding the implications. "Of course. Though I'll need to practice appearing completely human when the time comes. Even now, I'm not entirely sure how to contain all this..." she gestured to her radiant form.

"Try dimming your light," Mikhail suggested. "Focus on appearing as mortal as possible."

Aurora concentrated, and the otherworldly glow surrounding her faded. Her features remained heartbreakingly beautiful, but now she could pass for human - albeit the most stunning human who had ever existed. 

Her silver hair darkened to a more natural shade, though it still seemed to catch impossible lights.

"Better," Mikhail said, "but still too noticeable. We'll work on it. For now..."

"I know," she smiled, her expression warming the room despite her dampened radiance. "Back to hiding. But Mikhail?" Her eyes met his, depths of eternity swirling in their impossible colours. "Thank you. For accepting what I've become."

With that, she vanished into his Personal Dimensional Space, leaving him alone in the basement. Mikhail took a moment to compose himself before heading up the stairs.

He had barely reached the top when voices carried through the door.

"I don't care if he's meditating, studying, or communing with the gods themselves!" Aria's voice rang with aristocratic authority. "I am his betrothed, and these wedding arrangements cannot wait!"

"And I need to discuss urgent matters concerning my father's condition," Valerie's calmer but equally insistent tone added. "The Western Reach grows restless."

"His Highness left strict instructions-" Lydia began.

"He's been down there for 3 hours," Bella's naive voice cut in. "Surely that's enough time for... whatever it is he does in that basement."

Mikhail opened the door, causing all four women to jump slightly. "Ladies," he said smoothly, "I apologise for my unavailability. I've been training."

"Training?" Aria's perfect brows drew together. "In a basement? Really, Mikhail, there are proper facilities-"

"What kind of training requires such secrecy?" Valerie interrupted, her sharp mind clearly working through possibilities. "The guards report strange lights sometimes, and sounds that don't quite..."

"The kind of training," Mikhail said firmly, "that requires absolute concentration. Which I've now completed for the day." He smiled disarmingly. "I promise to attend to both your concerns. But first, I need to rest and refresh myself."

"But the wedding plans-" Aria began.

"Will wait a day more," Mikhail finished. "As will matters of state." He nodded to Valerie. "I swear to you both, I will address everything. But I must insist on taking proper care of myself first."

Something in his tone - perhaps an echo of the authority he'd wielded in his past life - made them both step back slightly.

"Of course," Valerie said finally. "We'll wait."

"A day," Aria conceded grudgingly. "Not a minute more."

As they departed, Bella and Lydia exchanged knowing looks. "Shall I have a bath prepared, Your Highness?" Bella asked.

"Please. And Lydia? Send word to our friend that I need to discuss certain... acquisitions."

Lydia's eyes sharpened with understanding. "At once, Your Highness."

In his chambers, Mikhail had barely finished changing when Gage materialised from the shadows.

"You rang?" the assassin's dry voice carried a hint of amusement.

"We need to steal my father," Mikhail said without preamble.

Gage's eyebrows rose fractionally. "The Emperor. The most heavily guarded man in the empire. Currently under the direct supervision of healers loyal to the Empress. That father?"

"Exactly." Mikhail moved to his desk, withdrawing plans he'd started to prepare the day his father fell ill, although he didn't think he'd need them so soon. "I know how to cure him now. But I'll need time - uninterrupted time - with his unconscious form."

"Impossible," Gage said flatly.

"Nothing's impossible," Mikhail countered. "Just improbable. And we specialise in improbable, don't we?"

A slow smile spread across Gage's face. "Tell me more."

For the next several minutes, they discussed logistics - guard rotations, healer schedules, and the complex web of magical wards protecting the Emperor's chambers.

"It could work," Gage admitted finally. "But the timing would have to be perfect."

"Leave that to me," Mikhail said. "Just have your people ready. We move in three days."

After Gage departed, Mikhail felt Aurora's presence stir within him. "Are you sure about this?" her voice echoed in his mind. "The risks..."

"Are necessary," Mikhail finished. "We have the knowledge now. We know what the poison is, how it works. How to counter it. We just need the opportunity."

"And afterwards? When your father is cured?"

Mikhail's expression hardened. "Then we deal with those who did this to him. Permanently."