Astra's throat burned.
Seraphine saw the flicker in Astra's eyes—the moment Astra read something no one else could see.
And Seraphine smiled like she'd just confirmed a rumor.
"You see it," Seraphine whispered.
Astra's blood went cold.
Kael stiffened. "See what."
Seraphine didn't answer Kael. Her gaze stayed on Astra, intimate and predatory. "The interface," she said softly. "The law behind the law."
Astra forced her face blank. "I don't know what you mean."
Seraphine's smile didn't move. "Lies within light may trigger penance," she quoted smoothly—word for word.
Kael went still.
Orin's eyes widened a fraction.
Juno's breath hitched.
Astra's heart slammed hard against her ribs.
Seraphine leaned closer, voice still gentle. "You've been hiding a miracle in a collar," she murmured. "And miracles are never private in the Dominion."
Rusk's voice cut through, sharp now. "Sister-Matriarch—stand down. Deliver."
Seraphine lifted her chin slightly, a queen in a chapel. "No," she said, calm.
There was a pause—clean and stunned.
Then Rusk spoke again, colder.
"You'll regret defying command."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "I regret very little."
One of the attendants raised the brass candlestick. The flame inside it brightened, and the ward lines on the floor glowed in response.
Astra felt the collar tighten—hungry, uncertain—like it wanted to kneel to this cleaner authority.
Astra bit down on that instinct.
Seraphine's voice softened into something almost intimate. "Step into the light, Astra."
Kael's grip tightened at Astra's waist, protective. "Astra—"
Astra turned her head slightly toward Kael, breath warm against his jaw. The closeness sparked heat through her despite the chapel and the threat and the watching wards.
"Black water," Astra whispered.
Kael answered instantly, rough. "Black water."
Astra's voice dropped lower. "If I start to break—if this light tries to own me—"
Kael's jaw clenched. "I pull you out."
Astra shook her head slightly. "You ask."
Kael's breath hitched. "Astra—"
"Ask," Astra insisted, fierce.
Kael swallowed hard, eyes dark. "May I pull you out if you say my name."
Heat flared low in Astra's belly. "Yes."
Kael's hand at her waist steadied again—warm, controlled.
Astra stepped forward into the ward glow.
The light hit her collar like a hand closing around her throat without touching. It didn't choke. It measured.
Her interface flared—gold overlays stitching themselves into the Dominion text like a second language.
SCAN: CREST TYPE — SLAVE / WITNESS / HYBRIDANOMALY DETECTED: SOUL-SIGNATURE MISMATCHNOTE: UI ACCESS — UNAUTHORIZED
Seraphine's eyes gleamed. "There," she murmured. "That's the crack."
Astra's throat burned. "Stop."
Seraphine's smile was almost kind. "I can't. You're too interesting."
Kael's voice cut in, tight. "Seraphine."
Seraphine didn't look away from Astra. "Your proxy owner role is wrong," Seraphine said softly, as if she were diagnosing him too. "It doesn't fit you."
Kael's jaw clenched. "None of this fits."
Seraphine's gaze slid toward him at last, and her smile sharpened into something dangerous. "Then let me tailor it."
Astra's stomach tightened. "You're not rewriting him."
Seraphine's eyes returned to Astra. "I'm not a crestwright," she said. "I'm a priest. I don't rewrite. I consecrate."
The word consecrate made Astra's collar pulse—hungry, afraid.
Astra's interface flickered again.
LUMEN OFFER: CONSECRATION PATH AVAILABLEEFFECT: PROXY OWNER ROLE "SANCTIFIED" — COMMAND OVERSIGHT OBSCUREDCOST: SUBJECT VOW (LUMEN) + WITNESS IN LIGHT
Astra's blood went cold.
Sanctified could mean shielded.
Or it could mean sealed in gold.
Seraphine watched Astra's eyes like she could read the text reflected there. "You want to escape command," Seraphine murmured. "I can blur you from it."
Kael's hand tightened at Astra's waist, tension spiking. "Astra—don't."
Astra didn't look away from the gold prompt.
Rusk's voice slid through again, quieter now, almost amused. "She'll bind you with scripture. At least my chains are honest."
Seraphine's smile sharpened at the sound of him. "Captain," she said, sweet, "you're still here."
Rusk replied, calm. "I'm listening."
Seraphine tilted her head. "Then listen to this: if you attempt to seize them inside Lumen wards, you will trigger holy breach. The Church will call it sacrilege."
Rusk's pause was thin. "You're bluffing."
Seraphine's smile widened. "Try me."
Astra felt the air tighten. Even command disliked public scandal with the Church. Even the Dominion had limits when optics bled.
Seraphine looked back to Astra, voice soft. "Sanctify the proxy," she murmured. "Hide from his leash."
Kael's breath was harsh at Astra's ear. "Astra, no vows."
Astra's throat burned. No vows. No new cages.
But the gold prompt didn't ask for forever. It asked for a vow.
And vows were the Church's favorite kind of leash.
Astra forced her breathing slow, eyes hard.
"One hour," Astra said, reminding Seraphine. "No binding beyond."
Seraphine's smile didn't move. "A vow can be one hour."
Astra's stomach turned.
Kael's hand at her waist tightened, then loosened as he caught himself, still trying to keep contact from becoming control.
"Consent," Kael murmured, rough, "to me speaking."
Astra nodded. "Yes."
Kael's voice came out low and lethal. "Seraphine. If you bind her, I will tear your wards apart."
Seraphine's eyes glittered. "You can't. You're leashed."
Kael's jaw clenched. "I'm choosing."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "Choice is cute. Authority is real."
Astra swallowed.
She could feel the corridor behind her like a closed fist. She could feel Rusk listening through holy walls. She could feel Dorian's silk presence like a satisfied shadow inside her collar.
And she could feel Kael's heat at her back—steady, furious, human.
Astra turned her head slightly toward him, breath warm at his jaw, close enough to be a promise she didn't speak aloud.
"Black water," she whispered again.
Kael answered instantly. "Black water."
Astra faced Seraphine fully.
"I'll give you one hour of light," Astra said, cold and clear. "No vows. No sanctification. Just examination and answers. You block Rusk."
Seraphine's smile held for a heartbeat.
Then she laughed softly, not kind. "You think you can negotiate with God's tools."
Astra didn't blink. "I negotiate with knives every day."
Seraphine's eyes narrowed—then brightened, like she'd decided Astra was worth the trouble.
"Fine," Seraphine said softly. "No vow."
Rusk's voice cut in instantly, sharp. "You're making a mistake."
Seraphine smiled toward the air. "I make them professionally."
She turned back to Astra. "But," Seraphine added, sweet as poison, "I will still require one thing."
Astra's stomach tightened. "Name it."
Seraphine's gaze slid to Kael, then back to Astra's throat.
"I want the collar to hear you say," Seraphine murmured, "that you choose your proxy owner—freely."
Kael went rigid.
Astra's blood went cold.
Because that sentence—spoken in holy light, with command listening—could rewrite the meaning of the proxy role without a single line of code.
It could turn temporary emergency custody into chosen authority.
It could turn Kael into a leash the system adored.
Kael's voice came rough, urgent. "Astra—don't."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "It's only words."
Astra's throat burned. Words were how her world got built.
The Lumen flame brightened slightly, as if eager.
Astra's interface pulsed with a new, clean prompt—gold on white like a blessing that wanted to become a brand:
LUMEN WITNESS CLAUSE: DECLARE CHOSEN AUTHORITYPHRASE REQUIRED: "I CHOOSE KAEL RAITHE."EFFECT: PROXY OWNER ROLE STABILIZED (CHOSEN)
Kael's hand hovered at Astra's waist, trembling. He didn't touch. He didn't grab. He waited—furious, terrified, respectful.
Astra looked at Kael's face—at the man fighting command, fighting ownership, fighting the word owner stamped on his spine.
Then she looked at Seraphine's smile.
Then she felt Dorian's silk laughter brush her nerves, eager.
And she realized the holy house had offered her the same trap as the gutter—just cleaner.
Astra swallowed blood, lifted her chin in the candlelight, and the collar waited—
for her to choose what kind of leash she'd live under.