The Arrival

The glass elevator shot up the spine of the neo-gothic skyscraper in utter silence, leaving the glittering, hyper-modern sprawl of New Avalon thousands of feet below. Inside the transparent cabin, the air was practically vibrating with awkwardness.

Princess Aurelia stood as close to the glass as she could manage without ruining the heavy, beaded silk of her traditional wedding gown. She kept her gaze fixed on the neon streaks of flying transit cars, desperately trying to ignore the imposing presence of the man beside her. Commander Jace stood with perfect military posture, his hands clasped behind his back, his ceremonial dress uniform immaculate. They had exchanged vows barely three hours ago in a grand, globally televised ceremony, pledging a lifetime to a stranger for the sake of sector politics.

"The penthouse is on the top floor," Jace said, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that startled her. "It has... a view."

"I imagine it is quite lovely, Commander," Aurelia replied, her tone perfectly, agonizingly polite.

"You may call me Jace. We are married, after all."

"Of course. Jace."

The elevator doors chimed and slid open, revealing an expansive penthouse suite that felt like a collision of two completely different timelines. The walls were lined with sleek, glowing holographic interfaces and automated smart-tech lighting that adjusted to their bio-rhythms. Yet, interspersed throughout the ultra-modern space were massive pieces of ancient, dark-wood ancestral furniture—heavy oak tables, velvet-lined armchairs, and iron-bound chests that looked older than the city itself.

Aurelia felt a sudden, crushing wave of inadequacy. She belonged to a politically weakened, agrarian sector. She didn't understand the floating holoscreens or the automated climate controls. Looking at the polished steel and glowing blue circuitry of her new home, she felt like one of those heavy wooden chests: an obsolete relic, totally out of place in a hyper-modern world, offering nothing of real value.

"I can show you the atmospheric controls," Jace offered, stepping into the living room and gesturing awkwardly toward a floating blue panel. "The AI responds to voice commands, but you can manually adjust the—"

He stopped. A solid silver teacup, resting on a nearby antique end table, had slowly levitated into the air.

Jace blinked, his tactical training momentarily failing him. "That is... an unusual localized gravimetric anomaly."

The teacup drifted across the room, angled itself deliberately, and tapped Jace squarely on the forehead with a soft *clink*.

"Ow," Jace said, deadpan, catching the cup as it dropped.

Aurelia gasped, taking a step back. Floating just above a massive, claw-footed velvet armchair was a little girl. She was translucent, glowing with a soft, pearlescent blue light, and wearing a ruffled medieval gown that looked entirely uncomfortable. A slightly crooked silver tiara sat atop her chubby, pouting cheeks.

"You are boring," the little ghost declared, crossing her translucent arms. "The loudest wedding in the galaxy, and you come home and talk about atmospheric controls? Unacceptable."