Seraphine's whisper lived inside Astra's throat like a second pulse.
"Astra Vey," the Sister-Matriarch murmured through the witness seal's private channel, soft as confession and sharp as a blade, "do you want sanctuary… or do you want vengeance?"
The room around Astra was dim and wet and close—Orin's pocket, hidden behind scar-sigils and bad air—but the question made it feel like a chapel anyway. Like a kneeling place.
Astra's collar tightened in pleased recognition at the word sanctuary. The Guild seal hummed, eager to categorize. And somewhere at the edge of her nerves, Dorian's silk presence pressed closer, delighted by the taste of a choice.
Kael's hand was still around Astra's wrist—firm enough to ground, loose enough not to own. His gaze stayed on her face, reading the tiny shifts of breath and spine.
"Don't answer," Kael said low.
Astra's throat burned. "If I don't, the seal might broadcast."
Lyra's quiet laugh came from the far wall. "And if you do, you invite a saint into your mouth. Choices."
Orin hissed, "Shut up. Both of you."
Juno hovered near the door panel with a disk ready, eyes wide and feral. She looked like she wanted to throw metal at the question until it stopped existing.
Astra didn't have that luxury.
The witness seal pulsed again.
PRIVATE VERBAL CONFIRMATION REQUESTED — SOURCE: LUMEN AUTHORITYNOTE: CROSS-VALIDATION PENDING
Astra felt the "pending" like a noose that had learned patience.
Kael's thumb shifted on her wrist—barely a movement, but it sent heat up Astra's arm anyway. A reminder: I'm here. Don't let them take your body.
Astra swallowed, then made the decision the way she made all of them now: not with hope, not with morality—with angles.
She leaned a fraction toward Kael, close enough that her breath warmed his jaw, and spoke so only he could hear.
"I'm going to answer," Astra whispered. "Consent?"
Kael's jaw flexed hard. His eyes burned, furious at the trap, furious at himself for not being able to bite it in half.
Then he forced the word out like it cost him something.
"Yes," Kael said. "But you don't answer alone."
Astra's mouth curved faintly. "Good."
She turned her head slightly toward Orin. "Mute the room," she said.
Orin's brows lifted. "It's already muffled."
"Not enough," Astra replied, eyes on the seal prompt. "I need private inside private."
Orin swore under his breath, then slapped his palm to a scar-sigil. The air thickened, turning oily and heavy—like the room had been wrapped in wet cloth. Even the lantern flame dulled, sulking.
Lyra's smile sharpened. "Cute. A confessional booth."
Astra ignored her.
She lifted her chin and answered Seraphine—not with fear, not with pleading, but with controlled clarity.
"Vengeance," Astra said softly into the channel. "But you will state your terms."
A pause—tiny, pleased.
Seraphine's voice returned warmer. "Good girl."
Astra's skin crawled at the intimacy.
Kael's grip tightened on her wrist for a heartbeat, then loosened again like he caught himself.
Astra didn't flinch. She kept her spine hard.
"Remove your pet name," Astra said calmly. "Or I end this channel."
Lyra made a quiet sound of appreciation, like tasting a strong drink.
Seraphine's smile was audible. "Very well. Astra."
The seal hummed, satisfied that both parties were being "civil."
Astra's collar pulsed as if it liked Seraphine's warmth. Astra's stabilizer vow tightened in response, holding the collar's hunger on a short leash.
Seraphine continued, voice soft and slow. "You have attracted statute and silk. I can shield you from both."
"You can't shield me from Dorian," Astra said.
Seraphine's chuckle was gentle. "I can, if you let me place sanctity over your throat."
Kael went still.
Astra's stomach turned. "Another seal."
"Not a seal," Seraphine corrected. "A blessing."
Astra almost laughed. Blessing was just a prettier chain.
"What's the price," Astra asked.
Seraphine didn't answer immediately. The silence was deliberate—an old power trick. Make the subject fill the gap with panic.
Astra didn't.
Kael's voice slid low beside Astra, steady and structured, aimed at her nerves like a rail. "Breathe."
Astra breathed.
Seraphine finally spoke. "You will come to the Null Chapel."
Orin's face tightened.
Juno mouthed a curse.
Lyra's eyes glittered with amusement—like she'd been waiting for that node to come back around.
Astra's throat burned. "The Null Chapel is breached."
"Yes," Seraphine said softly. "That is why it's useful."
Astra's mouth went dry. "Useful for what."
Seraphine's voice lowered, intimate. "For arbitration."
The word hit like a cold hand.
Arbitration meant claims. Claims meant contracts. Contracts meant a pen in someone else's hand.
Astra forced her voice calm. "Between who."
Seraphine sighed as if it pained her to admit the world was messy. "The Guild. The Church. House Veyrn."
Dorian's silk presence brushed Astra's nerves like a kiss she wanted to bite. He was enjoying this.
Astra kept her voice steady. "You want to mediate the leash."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "I want to decide who holds it."
Astra's blood went cold. "And you think I'll walk into that."
"I think," Seraphine murmured, "you already did. You invoked my claim terms in public. You wrote a privacy gate into a Guild seal. You have made yourself… noteworthy."
Noteworthy.
A nicer word than property.
Astra's collar pulsed anyway, traitor that it was.
Kael's hand tightened around Astra's wrist again, a silent warning: Don't.
Astra lifted her free hand and laid two fingers over Kael's knuckles—light, chosen contact—acknowledging him without letting him steer her.
Then she spoke into the channel, low and firm.
"I'll come to the Null Chapel," Astra said. "On conditions."
Seraphine's breath sounded pleased. "Tell me."
Astra's eyes narrowed. "You will not cross-validate with the Guild witness seal without my private verbal confirmation. You will not attempt sanctified custody while I stand."
Seraphine's laugh was soft. "Brave."
Astra didn't blink. "And you will provide a clean guarantee: Kael Raithe is not to be separated from me by Church authority."
Kael's breath caught at his own name in Seraphine's mouth.
Lyra's smile sharpened like jealousy's echo.
Seraphine paused.
Then she said, very gently, "Why do you care about the Hound."
Astra's throat tightened.
Because he kept choosing voice over touch. Because he stood beside her, not over her. Because he made consent feel like a weapon instead of a weakness.
But Astra didn't give Seraphine poetry.
She gave her strategy.
"Because my collar listens to him," Astra said. "And if you remove him, my trace spikes. That harms your 'soul protection.'"
A beat.
Seraphine's voice returned, amused. "Clever. Always the engineer."
Astra's jaw clenched. "Agree."
Another pause—longer.
When Seraphine spoke again, her warmth had sharpened into something colder.
"I can agree to delay separation," she said. "But I cannot promise he will remain forever. Your bond is… improper."
Kael's body went rigid.
Astra's blood turned to ice. "Then no."
Seraphine sighed. "Astra. You want vengeance. Vengeance requires leverage. The Hound is leverage."
Astra's mouth went bloody with restraint. "He's not a coin."
Seraphine's voice softened again—false mercy. "You're sentimental."
Astra didn't deny it.
She weaponized it.
"My conditions stand," Astra said calmly. "Or you don't get my voice."
Silence.
The witness seal hummed, anxious at the stalling.
Kael's gaze stayed on Astra's face, burning, like he was trying to be her spine.
Lyra watched too, hungry, as if she wanted to see whether Astra would kneel or bite.
Seraphine finally spoke, and the softness was gone.
"Very well," she said. "Kael Raithe remains with you—until arbitration concludes."
Astra's stomach tightened. "And after."
Seraphine's voice was cold. "After, we will see what he is."
Kael's grip on Astra's wrist turned painful for a heartbeat.
Astra didn't pull away. She wanted him to feel he mattered.
"Fine," Astra said into the channel. "Until arbitration concludes."
Seraphine's warmth returned instantly, like a switch flipped. "Good. Come to the Null Chapel within the hour. Bring the Guild witness seal. Bring your Hound. Bring your courage."
Astra's mouth curved, sharp. "And you."
Seraphine's chuckle was soft. "Of course."
The channel went quiet.
The seal prompt dimmed—temporarily satisfied.
Astra exhaled slowly, throat burning.
Orin stared at her like she'd just lit a fuse and asked the room to applaud. "You agreed to the Null Chapel."
"I agreed to a meeting," Astra said.
Juno's eyes were hard. "That place eats people."
Lyra's smile was thin. "So do you, when you're honest."
Kael's voice cut low, dangerous. "You're not going."
Astra turned to him.
Close 3rd meant she felt him before she saw him: the tension in his shoulders, the controlled anger in his jaw, the fear behind it.
Astra didn't argue immediately.
She stepped closer—chosen proximity—until her shoulder brushed his chest, and she spoke softly, for him.
"I have to," Astra murmured. "If Seraphine and the Guild cross-validate, the seal becomes a cage I can't outrun."
Kael's eyes burned. "So you walk into her chapel."
Astra's mouth curved. "I walk into her math."
Kael's jaw clenched. "You're going to bargain your throat again."
Astra lifted her chin. "No."
Kael's gaze sharpened. "Then what."
Astra's voice dropped lower, heat threading into it—consent-as-foreplay, a power-play bargain made intimate on purpose.
"I'm going to use your voice," Astra whispered. "And my rules."
Kael's breath hitched.
Lyra made a soft sound from the wall, amused and irritated at the same time.
Orin snapped, "Less romance."
Kael's eyes didn't leave Astra's. "If we go," he said, forcing control into chosen words, "we go with a plan."
Astra nodded. "Yes."
Kael's grip loosened on her wrist—an explicit release. He didn't want to hold her without asking.
Astra noticed.
Heat flared low in her belly anyway.
"Plan," Orin demanded.
Astra turned to Orin. "We need leverage that isn't my throat."
Orin's mouth twisted. "You have any."
Astra's eyes slid to the witness seal. "This."
Lyra's smile sharpened. "You can't bite the seal off."
"I don't need to," Astra said. "I need it to lie cleanly."
Orin's brows lifted. "Meaning."
Astra's mind raced through what she'd written earlier: privacy gate, consent gates, delays. The seal was a machine that loved categories. If she fed it the right structure, it would obey.
Astra looked at Juno. "How dirty can you make a Guild grid inside the Null Chapel."
Juno's grin flashed, fierce. "Dirty enough to make it cry."
Orin nodded slowly, thinking. "And the Chapel's dead-water channels can smear sanctity reads."
Lyra's eyes glittered. "You want them both blind at once."
Astra's mouth curved. "I want them both desperate."
Kael's voice went low. "And Dorian."
Astra's throat tightened. "Dorian's listening on the edges through the seal and collar. If the Chapel's null channels hold, his edge goes thin."
Orin pointed. "If."
Astra nodded. "If."
Kael stepped closer until his shadow covered the seal on Astra's throat, like he could block it from seeing her. He couldn't. But the gesture still mattered.
"Then we need a safe signal the seal can't validate," Kael said.
Astra blinked. "What."
Kael's eyes darkened. "You wrote that cross-validation needs your private verbal confirmation. So you give it a confirmation it can't record."
Lyra's brows lifted. "A code phrase."
Kael's gaze flicked to Lyra—hard. "A code phrase between Astra and me."
Jealous heat snapped in Astra's gut, sharp and hot.
She didn't fight it.
She used it.
Astra stepped closer to Kael until her breath warmed the corner of his mouth, and she spoke low enough that only he could hear.
"You want a phrase," Astra murmured. "Or you want control."
Kael's jaw flexed. "I want you alive."
Astra's pulse kicked.
"Say it again," Astra whispered. "Like a vow."
Kael's eyes burned into hers. He didn't look away this time. He didn't soften.
He chose.
"I want you alive," Kael said, rough and clear. "And I want to be the one you tell before you offer your throat to anyone else."
Heat rose in Astra like a tide.
Not soft. Not safe.
But it made her feel seen in a world that kept trying to label her as hazard or heresy.
Astra nodded once. "Agreed."
Lyra's quiet laugh drifted from the wall. "You two are disgusting."
Kael didn't look at her. "Leave."
Lyra's smile sharpened. "No."
Astra exhaled slowly, forcing herself back into strategy before heat made her stupid.
"Phrase," Astra said. "What phrase."
Kael didn't hesitate. "No witnesses."
Astra's mouth went dry. Perfect.
A demand for privacy. A trigger for her privacy gate. A reminder: if anyone asked for cross-validation, they'd need Astra's voice—and Astra would only give it when Kael confirmed no witnesses.
Astra nodded. "Good."
Orin gestured toward the back wall. "Before we go to your saint's party, we patch you up."
Kael's jaw clenched. "We don't have time."
Orin's eyes went cold. "You took binding geometry across your shoulder twice. You keep acting like pain is optional."
Kael's gaze flicked to Astra—reflexive. He was checking whether she'd collapse if he insisted on moving.
Astra didn't let him carry her.
She stepped closer to Kael and put her hand on his chest—firm, controlled, no collar touch—then asked softly, making it explicit.
"May I," Astra murmured, "look at your shoulder properly."
Kael's throat worked.
He nodded once. "Yes."
Orin tossed a small oil lamp onto the table and lit it. The flame shivered, then steadied, painting Kael's shoulder in warm light.
The binding residue looked like a pale bruise made of thin lines—Guild geometry that didn't fade, just waited.
Astra's jaw tightened.
Kael's face stayed calm, but Astra saw the tension in the corners of his eyes. He was enduring. He was always enduring.
Astra touched the fabric near the bruise, careful.
Kael's breath hitched anyway.
Astra didn't pretend she didn't notice. She leaned in slightly, voice low, heat threading into it on purpose.
"Still feel everything," Astra murmured.
Kael's eyes darkened. "Yes."
Astra's mouth curved faintly. "Good."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Don't say that."
Astra's fingers slid a fraction closer to the bruise, still not pressing. "Why."
Kael's voice dropped, rough. "Because it makes me want things I can't afford."
Heat punched through Astra's belly.
Lyra made a soft, irritated sound.
Juno pretended to cough.
Orin rolled his eyes like he wanted to throw all of them into the sewer.
Astra held Kael's gaze, and the tension between them turned sharp enough to cut.
"Afford," Astra whispered. "Or admit."
Kael's throat worked. "Both."
Astra didn't push him into confession for the sake of romance.
She pushed him into it for the sake of truth, because truth was leverage and she needed him steady.
She slid her hand down from his shoulder to his forearm—brief, chosen contact—and spoke low.
"Then admit this," Astra murmured. "You're not my leash. You're my ally."
Kael went very still.
Then he nodded once, slow. "Yes."
Astra's chest tightened with something that felt like relief and hunger at the same time.
She let it show in her eyes—just a fraction.
Kael saw it.
His jaw clenched harder, like he was refusing to let himself take more.
Astra withdrew her hand deliberately, making space without withdrawing closeness.
She turned to Orin. "Can you strip the Guild residue."
Orin's mouth twisted. "Not fully. But I can dirty it."
"Do it," Astra said.
Orin grabbed a small tin of black paste—Underchain work—and smeared it along the pale lines with two fingers. The paste smelled like ash and metal.
Kael flinched once, a sharp breath.
Astra stepped closer instinctively, voice low. "Breathe," she said, stealing his own word back and giving it to him like a weapon.
Kael obeyed.
The pale lines dimmed slightly under the paste, no longer clean. No longer proud.
Orin wiped his fingers on a rag. "That buys you confusion. Not freedom."
Astra nodded. "Confusion is enough."
Lyra pushed off the wall, eyes glittering. "And what do I do at the Chapel."
Astra turned, cold. "You stay out of my mouth."
Lyra smiled slowly. "Jealous."
Astra didn't blink. "Strategic."
Lyra's smile sharpened. "Same thing."
Kael's gaze snapped to Lyra, lethal. "Leave."
Lyra ignored him and looked at Astra. "You're going to arbitration. You'll need an audience to mislead."
Astra's throat burned around the seal. She hated that Lyra was right.
"Fine," Astra said. "You come. But you don't speak unless I tell you."
Lyra's eyes gleamed. "Consent?"
Astra's mouth curved, razor-thin. "Don't get cute."
Lyra laughed softly. "Too late."
The room's muffled air shuddered again—pressure against the pocket, polite and persistent, like a pen tapping on paper.
Orin's face tightened. "They're probing."
Astra's interface flickered.
GUILD WITNESS SEAL: SAFE SIGNAL QUERY — PENDINGLUMEN AUTHORITY: AWAITING PRIVATE VERBAL CONFIRMATION
Seraphine was waiting.
The Guild was listening.
Dorian was smiling.
Astra lifted her chin.
"We move," Astra said.
They slipped out through Orin's back seam into a colder tunnel artery that led toward the Null Chapel node. The Underchain changed as they traveled—stone giving way to older stone, scar-sigils deeper, salt crust heavier. The air tasted like old prayers that had been scraped off walls and left to rot.
The Null Chapel wasn't holy.
It was the absence of holy.
A place where claims went thin and systems had to guess.
Perfect.
As they approached, Astra felt the seal on her throat grow restless, like it didn't like the dead air.
Kael stayed close without touching her collar, body angled to block angles. His presence was a steady pressure at Astra's side—protective, disciplined, refusing to become a handle.
Lyra drifted on Astra's other side like a shadow in silk, eyes bright, amused by everything.
Juno moved ahead, placing disks in cracks like offerings.
Orin muttered to himself, reading scar-lines like scripture.
Then they reached the threshold.
The Null Chapel node opened into a round chamber with a shallow channel of black water circling the floor like a moat. Old benches sat overturned. A broken altar stone stood in the center, cracked down the middle as if someone had tried to split the idea of faith.
In the silence, Astra heard her own breath loud in her throat.
The witness seal hummed, uncertain.
And then—without footsteps, without doors—warmth slid into the chamber.
A hymn, faint and intimate.
Seraphine's voice arrived through the seal, very close now.
"I'm here," she whispered. "Say your confirmation, Astra. No witnesses."
Astra's spine went cold.
Because Seraphine had just used Kael's phrase.
Astra looked at Kael.
His eyes went hard. "I didn't tell her."
Lyra's smile sharpened in the dim. "Then who did."
And Astra felt Dorian's silk laughter curl through her collar like a hand turning a lock.
"You're all such obedient little conspirators," he murmured. "Did you think your secrets were yours?"
Astra's interface flashed a final, brutal update as warmth gathered at the chapel's edge and clean pressure gathered at the other—two authorities arriving at once:
ARBITRATION: BEGINNING — CLAIMANTS PRESENT.