Sovereign was patient.

Legendary patience.

Historical patience.

The kind of patience developed by surviving centuries.

Unfortunately, patience had limits.

And Ra was rapidly locating all of them.

It started with another mission.

Then another.

Then another.

Close calls.

Dangerous situations.

Moments where she laughed at death and somehow won.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each time Sovereign's internal dialogue became progressively less diplomatic.

She cannot keep doing this.

Five minutes later:

Why is she doing this?

Ten minutes later:

I am personally going to remove her access to dangerous situations.

Twenty minutes later:

That is impossible, and she would murder me.

The problem wasn't trust.

He trusted her completely.

The problem was caring.

Caring complicated everything.

Every risk felt sharper.

Every close call lingered longer.

Across the training grounds, Ra wiped sweat from her forehead.

Someone was staring.

Again.

She didn't need psychic abilities to identify the culprit.

Sovereign.

Obviously.

"You know that's creepy."

His eyebrow rose.

"Monitoring your safety is creepy?"

"Watching me for twenty minutes is."

"I watched you for fourteen."

The fact he knew the exact number made her case significantly stronger.

"You see?"

"You're alive."

"I would've been alive anyway."

"Debatable."

She laughed.

He failed not to smile.

Nearby soldiers exchanged money.

Apparently, there had been betting pools.

Again.

The betting pools centered around one question.

When would these two finally admit what everyone else already knew?

Current estimates ranged from two weeks to two years.

Nobody was optimistic.