Arik stared at the stack of holopads for another long moment before dragging himself upright with a groan. If he was going to drown in Gabriel's vengeance, at least he would look the part while doing it.
The shower hissed to life, ether-powered jets filling the chamber with clean steam. He stood beneath it until the water scalded away the last dregs of sleep, bracing himself against the tiles. When he emerged, warm black hair damp and curling at the edges, he dressed with meticulous precision: crisp black suit, ether-thread embroidery faintly glowing along the seams, and the crest of the imperial family at his collar. By the time he tightened his cufflinks, he was no longer a sulking son; he was the Crown Prince of the Empire.
