"Love bends the arc of time until two lives fall into the same rhythm."
The observation deck was Ostel's most private sanctuary, tucked high within the oldest, thickest turret of the sprawling, granite castle. This room, unlike the massive, echoing halls below, was a study in controlled comfort. The walls were still the ancient, weight-bearing stone of the fortress, centuries old, but the interior had been fitted with modern precision: seamless obsidian flooring, dim, responsive lighting, and, along one curving wall, the quiet, low-frequency thrum of essential life support and data systems.
I watched him from my perch on a leather chaise, observing the way the subtle light caught the silver strands at his temples, strands that were far more prominent now than when I first took the Vow. This hour was sacred, designated 'Core Synchronization,' a required window of mental and physical rest that we shared.
