The highest tower of Lucius's fortress offered an unparalleled view of his domain. From this vantage point, cities appeared as clusters of light against the darkness, each representing centuries of careful guidance.

  Lucius stood motionless at the window, allowing himself this rare moment of solitary reflection. For one night, he had dismissed all servants, advisors, and petitioners. Tonight belonged to assessment, to measuring progress against the immense span of his vision.

  The progressive territories had flourished. Settlements where vampires and wereanimals coexisted, if not as equals then at least with growing mutual recognition. Beneath ornate aristocratic facades, technological preservation continued—knowledge from before the Evolution carefully maintained for future generations who might be ready to use it properly.

  Yet failures weighed equally in his contemption. The traditionalists under Orlov had regressed further than anticipated, their medieval practices becoming genuine belief rather than merely political opposition. The hybrid recognition process advanced more slowly than he had hoped. Some blood farms still operated with brutal methods despite centuries of reform efforts.

  The first hint of dawn colored the eastern sky. Despite his immunity to sunlight—a secret shared only with Valerian—Lucius turned from the window. Appearances must be maintained, even in solitude.

  He moved to his private chamber as the sky brightened, his mind turning to the figure who had sustained his patience across centuries: Nova, glimpsed only in prophetic dreams yet more real to him than many beings he encountered daily. That distant soul, perpetually fighting against captivity, had shown him the value of persistence despite overwhelming odds.

  "Some changes require millennia rather than centuries," he acknowledged softly to himself. "So be it."

  As he closed the heavy curtains against the rising sun, Lucius recommitted himself to the path id out across thousands of years. Like the stars gradually shifting in their celestial patterns, vampire society would transform—not through revolution but through patient, persistent guidance.

  Some of his goals might not manifest for thousands of years. But immortality had taught him patience above all else.