Kira shifted in the comfortable bed, taking in her surroundings. This wasn't her tiny, dark room in the initiates hall, nor was it the med bay.
She'd been an unwilling guest of too many a hospital room not to recognize when she was in one. None of those had looked anywhere near as inviting as this.
The walls were stone, the furnishings comfortable and of obvious quality. Narrow windows marched along one wall, and a fireplace took up one corner, the fire within bringing the comforting smell of burning wood as it chased away any lingering chill.
Unlike Luatha, which seemed to prefer bright whites, the room had a color palette that was warm and welcoming. Homey, for lack of a better word.
This was the sort of place you'd look forward to coming home to at the end of the day.
It was someone's room, Kira decided as her gaze found the man sitting in a cozy-looking chair next to the bed. He stared at something in his lap.
Kira almost didn't recognize him without his synth armor.
She started to sit up but didn't make it far before the pain that had been absent upon waking made itself known.
"I'd take it easy," the man said, not looking up. "The healers did a lot, but it'll take more than twenty-eight hours of rest for you to heal."
Kira relaxed into the bed and stared at the man, her gaze roving over familiar features, ones she saw in the mirror every day, ones nearly identical to the statue Graydon had showed her of the previous Overlord.
This man was older than the one who'd posed for the statue, the rigors that came from living a hard life stamped on his face, but the line of his jaw was the same, the set of his eyes. Hair so red it was nearly black was pulled away from his face, exposing the harsh lines of his features and the neatly trimmed beard he wore. She suspected that hair was nearly as unruly as her own.
A scar bisected one eyebrow, missing the eye, before continuing on to his cheek. Another smaller scar was visible on his forehead.
The man was huge, giving Graydon a run for the name Mountain. His long sleeves had been pushed up, exposing forearms corded with muscle. His chest was broad, his legs the size of tree trunks.
"Not even going to ask who I am?" Tawny, golden-colored eyes met hers.
Kira made herself more comfortable. "I know who you are."
The hair was a pretty good giveaway.
"And who is that?" the man asked calmly.
"The Overlord. My uncle."
And the orchestrator of current events. If not for him and this House, she'd be on her ship. Of course, she'd also still be slowly dying, so you couldn't win them all.
When he didn't speak, Kira continued, "Is this where you give me a speech about how you love me because I'm a child of your House and want only the best for me?"
Because if so, she'd pass.
"You're certainly your father's daughter," the man, whose name she still didn't know because he hadn't bothered to introduce himself, mused.
Kira didn't say anything, settling to watch and wait. Often people felt the need to fill the silence, their inane chatter revealing more than they wanted.
Kira preferred to let other people hang themselves with their words. Usually, it worked. Not so much on this man who seemed to have taken a page out of her rule book.
The silence between them deepened.
"You're certainly as stubborn," he observed. It didn't sound like a compliment.
"What are you here for?" Kira asked.
This Overlord would be more difficult to manipulate than Liara. He wasn't an untried youth. He'd held his House together in the face of tragedy. Trying to deceive him would be like dipping a bleeding finger into a tank full of piranha. Dangerous and liable to end with her missing an arm before the end.
No, this man had more in common with Himoto. Circling in the shadows, arranging and pushing until events took the shape he wanted.
"Don't bother trying to pretend it's because I'm the daughter of your brother, and you want to give me a good life." Kira was many things, but a fool wasn't one of them. She had a hard time seeing the man before her as sentimental. Those emotions were often the first thing to go when faced with hardship. She had no doubt he had dealt with his fair share of that.
"My brother was the most important person to me in this world. Ensuring his daughter has a future is the least I can do for his memory," the man said.
"If you really care about my wellbeing, arrange passage to my ship," Kira challenged.
His lips curved. "You know that's not happening."
Kira lifted a shoulder. It was worth a shot.
"How long do you think you can keep me here?" Kira asked.
"I've already beaten Luatha's record by several weeks. Most would agree I'm not doing too bad."
Kira's eyes narrowed. He had a point, but in all that time, he had not once made any effort to see her. If he really cared about her because of her relation to his brother, you'd think he'd want to introduce himself. Maybe try to get to know her.
He hadn't. So, either he was lying, or there were things she didn't understand.
"I’ve been thinking about why you chose the warrior’s path, and I think I understand now,” he said after several moments.
Kira waited.
“You think passing the Trial of the Broken will get you what you want,” he said.
“And what’s that?” Kira asked.
“The respect of the House and sponsorship to the adva ka,” her uncle said.
Kira wasn’t concerned he’d guessed right. Graydon had done the same. Even an idiot would be able to see her motives.
“It’s not a bad plan,” the Overlord said, settling in his seat. “But the uhva na is simply the first hurdle on the way to the adva ka. If you pass, you’ll be appointed a mentor. They will determine when you advance. Passing the uhva na won’t solve all your problems.”
"It's a start." That's all she needed.
Tuann law was clear on this point. Those who passed the adva ka achieved a certain level of freedom not available to those who hadn't. They could choose their course. Whether that was to pledge themselves to their old House or find a new one was up to them,
"As long as your path leads you to the Tuann," he said softly. "Right now, you think you will be able to leave and never return. That is a fallacy."
"Oh?" There was danger in Kira's tone. She didn't like threats—especially when they came from supposed family.
He shifted, his expression relaxing as if her response had assured him of something important. "The humans have something called an energy vampire in their myths, yes?"
Kira stared at him, not answering.
He continued with an air of finality. "It is as good an example as any. Tuann are dependent on our links with others and the Mea'Ave. One of the reasons your ki started to poison you was because you had no access to the Mea’Ave when grief broke your few connections. Spend too long away from the Mea’Ave or your brethren, and it will start happening again."
An instinctive denial filled Kira. "Quillon said it was because I used too much ki too quickly."
"He is right, but what he no doubt hesitated to tell you was that trauma starts the process," her uncle said. "Devastating loss coupled with an explosive release of ki. You never replaced any of those relationships, did you?"