Nor sighed and ran her golden prosthetic hand across the dark wood of Cyprian Cortas’s old desk as the makeup artist resumed his work. The old General of Arcardius had been dead for weeks now, thanks to Valen. It was the greatest gift she could have offered her brother, allowing him the honor of murdering the man who’d caused them both so much pain.

As soon as they’d risen to power, Nor and Valen had ordered the servants to clear away the old photographs and family paintings. They’d burned them out on the lawn, the tower of smoke rising high in the sky above the floating mountain estate. All traces of Cyprian Cortas were now gone from Averia—except for the late general’s desk.

That, she’d kept as a reminder to herself. A reminder that she’d made this galaxy hers.

She planned to expand upon that dream, and the Unaffecteds would not stand in her way.

“There is also the matter of the Unaffecteds being incapable of coming out of hiding,” Nor’s uncle said smugly. He signaled the producer to come forward. The man stepped from the shadows, and Darai snatched at one of the man’s four arms, holding it out into the light.

Silver veins spiderwebbed their way across his skin. They were beautiful; like artwork in their own right.

And a perfectly executed side effect of the Zenith virus, generally appearing a few days after the infection fully settled in. Any who were affected practically glowed with it, like moonlight swimming just beneath the surface of their skin.

“That was a clever trick of Aclisia’s,” Nor said, admiring the man’s veins.

She herself did not bear them, nor did Valen or Darai. Their minds were still free, rooted to the cause since the beginning of their time in Mirabel.

Nor looked down at Zahn’s hands, still resting on her shoulders. He, too, lacked the silver veins, for she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was utterly committed to her reign.

And to her happiness.

“The Unaffecteds will have to come out of hiding eventually—to gather supplies, to recruit,” Darai said. “And when they do, they’ll be discovered, captured and made ours.”

Nor nodded, smiling at that.

“Just a bit more, Majesty,” the makeup artist said as he uncapped a tiny pot of Nor’s classic crimson lip stain. Behind him, camera drones bobbed in the air, while attendants perfected the lighting.

It was no wonder Valen wished to hide away from such things. He was content to work in the shadows. But Nor lived for her time to shine beneath the bright lights.

“All done now, Majesty,” the makeup artist said, standing back to admire his work. “You’re a vision, as always.”