Corinne stayed long enough to finish her drink. The whole time, she listened to the air nima chattering around her. If there were a fight nearby, a disturbance of any sort, they wouldn’t be able to resist going to look.

But the nima stayed calm, and Corinne relaxed. It seemed whoever had been waiting for Yeijiro didn’t intend him any harm. Satisfied, she paid the tab and left.

Annoying to have to take the tram back up the mountain. She had to wait for it to arrive, and once she was on it, it moved so slow. She stared up at the dark, star-filled sky and wished she could be up there in it.

Back at the fortress, she went straight to her workshop. She closed the door and locked it to prevent any interruptions.

The mirror sat on her workbench.

Communication through the Empire was a challenge at the best of times. Distances were huge between the four solar systems through which civilization was spread. Messages had to travel on ships, either in physical packages or couriered by the AI networks.

Nima-glass was one of the workarounds to the problem of instantaneous communication. Each pair of mirrors were keyed between two individuals, with the nima within the bridge between them. The nima could communicate across any distance—barring when the Empire was in Eclipse—and conversations through the mirror could only be heard or seen by the individuals to whom the mirrors were attuned.

For Lady Snow to have commissioned such a thing—especially on short notice—spoke of even more means than Corinne had imagined. Or that Lady Snow was a powerful akashic herself. But Corinne was powerful and even she would have had trouble crafting a pair of these mirrors so quickly.

Corinne stroked the cool glass, reached out to the nima within.

A face appeared in the polished glass surface. A masked face, flawless white skin and pale gray eyes beneath a glittering cascade of crystal snowflakes and shimmering blue satin. “Lady Snow,” Corinne whispered.

“I see my gift arrived.” Her voice was low, rich. Even though the mirror, it sent a flush of heat through Corinne.

“This is…incredibly generous.” Nima-glass was expensive, delicate work. Not the sort of thing most people handed out on a whim.

“We have unfinished business, my little Dragon. I didn’t want to risk losing touch.”

The mirror shook in Corinne’s suddenly unsteady hands. The look in Snow’s eyes, the promise in her words…Corinne set the mirror down on her workbench, angled so they could still see each other to talk.

Before Shadow Court—before the Emperor had come to Pax, Corinne had never imagined someone like Lady Snow could even exist. She was a mystery. No one in all the court knew who she was. But there was no question she was someone with wealth, power, and connections.

Through the elaborate, mysterious parties Snow hosted, Corinne had discovered a side of herself she was afraid she never again be able to explore now that the Emperor’s court was going away. With this gift, Lady Snow seemed to be promising otherwise.

“I miss you,” Corinne confessed.

Lady Snow laughed, a soft, gentle sound. “Don’t be silly, darling. I haven’t even left yet.”

But she would. Tomorrow, or the next day. Now the Eclipse was over. “With you gone, it’s going to be horribly dull.”

That earned her a musing smile from Lady Snow. “Dull, yes, that’s the word.” She lifted a hand, pressed it against her side of the glass. “We’ll see what we can do. I can’t talk long tonight, but I wanted to make sure the mirror arrived to you, and see that you were all right.”

“After the battle, you mean?” Despite her frustration, Corinne felt a pulse of warmth at the thought that Snow had been thinking about her, worried about her.

“Yes. I heard you were injured. Your suit damaged.”

Corinne’s own reflection was a ghost-image over Snow’s face, but she could see herself just well enough to catch the sour look and try to smile again.

“My poor little dragon has lost her wings.” Snow’s voice warm with sympathy.

“It’s going to be forever till I can fly again.”

“You’ll get through it. I have faith.” She brushed her fingers down the mirror, a distant caress. “But for now, I must leave you. We’ll talk again soon, I promise. Know that I’m thinking about you.”

The mirror went dark, leaving Corinne once more alone, with all new possibilities racing through her mind.