Chrístõ stalked through the dead starship purposefully. He was scared, but he knew he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t just get back to his TARDIS and leave this cursed place. There was a survivor somewhere aboard – a Human, a girl. The future version of himself who appeared as a hologram had told him about her. She was important, he told him.

Of course she was important. She was a survivor of this terrible tragedy. And he was duty bound to protect her. That was why he hadn’t just used his TARDIS to stall the engines and put a quarantine beacon on the ship to warn people away. There was a soul left alive, so he had to rescue her. It was intergalactic law, bound up with right of salvage, not that he had any interest in that. He didn’t want this ship or any of its contents. He wanted to save this girl’s life and get them both out of here.

His older self seemed to think she was more important than that. But since he didn’t explain why, he wasn’t dwelling on it.

The makeshift lifesign monitor showed a strong humanoid signal. But it also showed up those filthy creatures that had killed everyone else. They were closing in on her in a large area that might have been a dining room. He quickened his pace, his patent leather shoes echoing loudly in the empty corridor.

The vampyre dropped from the ceiling at the entrance to the dining room. Chrístõ fell under its weight, his sonic screwdriver falling from his hand. He groaned as he felt the creature bite down on his neck. The feeling as his blood was sucked from the wound was horrible. It was like having his soul dragged from his body.

Then the vampyre exploded. Chrístõ kept his head down as pieces of foul dust rained down on him. When he thought it was safe he raised himself up from the floor. He grabbed his sonic and the lifesign monitor. A glance at it made his remaining blood run cold. The scream suddenly cut off told him the rest. The creature that jumped on him had cost him precious time. The other vampyre already had the girl.

He was too late.

He wielded his sonic screwdriver in laser mode like a sword and sliced the creature’s head off in one swift, arcing move. It disintegrated in mid air. The girl’s body fell like a stone. Chrístõ ran to her side. She hadn’t been drained completely dry. She still looked like a flesh and blood Human. But he knew it was too late. She was dying. There was nothing he could do to save her.

He had failed. The Human he wanted to protect died in his arms.

But it was more than that. He suddenly felt himself overwhelmed by a powerful precognitive vision. He saw his future cold and desolate, lonely to the point of despair. Something had happened in these last few minutes that changed his life in the very worst ways. His failure to rescue the girl was his own downfall in some way he didn’t yet understand.

He grasped the girl’s cold body and held it as he cried bitter, Human tears of self pity.

Chrístõ woke in his bed in his own home on Beta Delta IV. He was shivering with cold and sweating at the same time. His two hearts were pounding and he was breathing heavily as if he had been running.

He sat up. It was dark, still. The clock at his bedside told him it was just gone three-thirty. He heard a noise under the bed and felt a moment of panic before he remembered that Humphrey was hunkered under there, as usual. His TARDIS door, disguised as a walk in wardrobe, was half open in the corner of the room. The console room was in low power mode and only a little light came from there.

He wasn’t scared of the dark. Why did it bother him not to have light?

Why was he so disturbed?

The dream. It had been so vivid. He actually felt as if...

He got out of bed. He was wearing deep maroon satin pyjamas, and he threw a silk dressing gown over those before he stepped out of his own bedroom and crossed the landing lit by a dimmed, energy efficient night light. He opened the door to the main guest room and slipped inside. There was a little more light in here than his own room. It was provided by an illuminated mobile that turned slowly over the bed. Figures from the ballet, Swan Lake, danced around, throwing moving patterns onto the walls and furniture and on the bed where Julia was sound asleep.

He moved closer and reached to touch her face as she slept. He knew he was breaking some very strict rules that he, himself, had laid down as conditions of her spending her bi-monthly weekend away from college at his house. He had made it clear from the start that she was to sleep in her own room, that he slept in his and decorum was maintained at all times. The rules satisfied her aunt and uncle. They satisfied his own moral standards as a Time Lord of Gallifrey.

He wasn’t supposed to be in this room in the middle of the night. But he needed to reach out and touch her. He needed to know she was there, that she was real.

Because that dream had felt so real. He had believed fully that he was back on the SS Aldous Huxley where he had first met Julia.

Only it happened differently. He failed. She died. And his whole future turned dark.

Julia woke with a start, aware of a hand touching her. She shrank back instinctively and then relaxed as she recognised her fiancée sitting on the edge of her bed in the dark. She sat up and reached out to him, startled to feel him trembling with emotion.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Chrístõ... what’s the matter?”

“I’m... I...” He stammered helplessly for several seconds. “I just... had to see if you were really there,” he managed. He knew that made no sense. He took a deep breath and tried again. He told her everything that he had dreamt, everything that he thought was happening to him. Julia shuddered as he described her death. She didn’t like being reminded of that time as it was. This was particularly nasty.

“But it wasn’t real,” she assured him. “It was just a horrible nightmare. And it’s over, now. It didn’t happen that way. You know it didn’t. Because... I’m here. And so are you. If I hadn’t survived... you would never have come to Beta Delta in the first place. You wouldn’t have got a job here and bought a house.”

That was all perfectly, logically true. He should have realised that when he first woke up and found himself in this house. It was one of many decisions he had made about his lifestyle that were a direct result of meeting Julia on that stricken space ship.

“If I had never met you...” he said. “If I HAD been too late... my life would be completely different. I might not even be alive, now. I might...”

“It was a dream,” Julia assured him. “I promise you, it was. I’m right here with you. And... and I’m going to stay with you, forever.”

She drew him down onto the pillow beside her and pulled the duvet around them both. He protested, but she kissed him softly, silencing his objections.

“I’m nearly eighteen. We’ve been engaged for nearly a year. I’ve loved you since that day when you took me away from the ship. Just this once... it won’t hurt. Lie beside me, warm and comfortable. Let me look after you.”

He knew he ought to stop her. He knew he ought to stop himself. They were his own rules. But he was still feeling so shaken by the nightmare. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to feel her body next to his, her kiss on his cheek. He wanted to open his eyes and see her face lit by the slowly revolving mobile. He wanted to close them and hear her soft breathing and her single heartbeat next to his own. It was the only thing that calmed his own hearts and made him think that everything was all right, after all.

Julia snuggled close to him. She was disturbed by his nightmare, too. It involved her, after all. And it had affected him so badly that he was still trembling slightly even after he had gone to sleep. It was unnerving to see him so vulnerable. Chrístõ had been her hero ever since that frightening day when he arrived on the ship and they fought the vampyres together. He had been her strength.

Now she needed to be his. She held him tightly and kissed his cheek as he slipped into a deeper, dreamless sleep and became calm. She snuggled closer and let herself fall asleep with him.

Chrístõ woke the next morning to find himself alone in Julia’s bed. He looked around at the distinctly feminine room with ballet and gymnastics posters on the wall. On the bedside table was a small trophy she had won for an inter-house competition at the Academy and a photograph from their engagement party.

He reached out and touched that picture. He smiled as he remembered the moment when he placed the diamond ring on her finger and formalised his Bond of Betrothal in front of all their invited guests. It was a moment he had longed for ever since he first knew she was going to be his future wife.

He had known since the first day he met her, when she was still a frightened, half-feral, desperate child who hardly remembered how to speak to another living being having lived by her wits on an empty ship for so long. When he held her he had seen her timeline and known how important she was going to be for him.

One of the most terrifying days in both their lives had been the most significant and life-changing for them both.

The bedroom door opened. Julia stepped in with a tray containing breakfast for two. Chrístõ smiled warmly at her as she set the tray down and poured coffee.

“This… is something I have often imagined,” he said. “Breakfast in bed… the two of us…” She was in her nightdress, still, but she had combed her hair into a pony tail. “But… not yet. This was supposed to be after our honeymoon…”

“It’ll be different, then,” she promised him. “I won’t be wearing a cotton nightdress with pink and blue flowers on it. Gallifreyan ladies wear silk nightgowns.”

“Gallifreyan men don’t, as a rule, wear nightclothes at all. At least not those from the southern continent. So, in that respect… yes it would be different. But… I shouldn’t have let a nightmare get the better of me. It was silly.”

“It wasn’t silly. It upset you. And… I suppose… in a way… it’s sweet. You were upset because in your nightmare I died…”

She smiled warmly at him. He understood her point. But thinking about that nightmare just made him shiver.

“You need to take your mind off it,” Julia said. “Why don’t we take a walk…” She looked at the window. It was pouring with rain. “Maybe not. We could take a TARDIS trip…”

Chrístõ didn’t seem enthusiastic about that, even.

“Tell you what,” Julia said. “I've had a pretty hectic week, and you’ve been working hard. What we need is a day in bed with a bunch of our favourite movies on the vid-screen. How about I go make a ton more buttered toast and more coffee and we just totally relax?”

There were several good reasons to say no to that idea. But Chrístõ felt unable to voice them. Julia slipped her feet into her slippers again and went downstairs. Chrístõ laid his head back down on the pillow. He knew his rules were well and truly broken, now. But after all, buttered toast and a bunch of movies on the vid-screen didn’t sully his honour as a Time Lord of Gallifrey, and it was a tempting idea. Julia had to go back to the Academy tomorrow morning. Spending the day in such an intimate way had much to commend it.

He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. The pillow had a familiar scent to it, the shampoo that Julia used daily when she showered after practice. That scent easily brought her face to his mind. The girl he loved.

But in the midst of the soft, sweet thought a darker one penetrated. Again he could see himself on the ship, kneeling on the floor in the middle of that empty mess hall, cradling her dead body in his arms. She was so small, slender, no weight at all. She was limp, like a rag doll, her face as white as porcelain and her dark eyes stared sightlessly. She was dead, and he never even knew her name.

His eyes snapped open. He sat up in the bed and stared around at the familiar things that belonged to Julia, the proof that it was just a terrible dream and she WAS alive.

Of course she was alive. He could hear her on the stairs. She was bringing coffee and toast.

He steadied his racing hearts and calmed his breathing. When she entered the bedroom he was propped against the pillows with the remote control for the vid-screen, going through the list of preset films.

“How about the complete Chronicles of Narnia films,” he suggested. “Should keep us occupied for most of the day.”

Julia smiled and passed him a fresh mug of coffee before she slid into the bed beside him. He selected the first film in the series and then slipped his arm around her. It was good to be so close to her. When the coffee was drunk, they both slid down into the bed, cosy under the duvet, cuddling as they watched the first of the films.

“My mother used to read these stories to me when I was little,” Julia said as the story of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe played out in crisp, living colour on a wide, high definition screen. This version of the film was made in 2005. There had been others since, but Chrístõ and Julia were both of the considered opinion that this was the best.

“So did mine,” Chrístõ answered her. “It was one of her favourites. Some of my first attempts at using my telepathic skills were in making characters from the book appear as holograms in the air.”

“I just liked to draw them,” Julia said. She sighed softly. “I don’t think about my parents often. It still hurts too much. But that’s one of the safe memories. Long before we left Earth.”

“Yes,” Chrístõ agreed. “I feel the same about remembering my mother.”

Those safe memories contented them both for a quiet, cosy few hours. Staying in bed for the day had much to commend it. Julia was happy in her lover’s embrace. Chrístõ was comforted by her nearness.

But sometime mid-way through the second film of the series, Julia realised that Chrístõ had dropped off to sleep. That was unusual enough for him. He slept much less than any Human she knew. Perhaps having such an indolent day was good for a Time Lord.

But when she looked at his face, she knew this sleep was not doing him any good at all. His face was pale and clammy and he was trembling. His hearts were racing again as if he had been running. He was clearly having another nightmare.

“Wake up, Chrístõ,” she whispered, touching his face gently. Then she remembered something she had heard about it being dangerous to wake people who were in nightmares. The shock could kill them.

“Nonsense,” she told herself. Besides, what might be true of silly, nervous people certainly wasn’t true of Chrístõ. He was a brave, strong man who could handle most things.

“Wake up,” she said again, louder, and shook him vigorously.

He opened his eyes and stared at her as if he could barely believe his senses. Julia stroked his forehead as he tried to calm himself.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” she said. “Chrístõ... this can’t go on. What’s doing it? I’ve never known you to have nightmares before.”

“I... have nightmares,” he assured her. “Just... not like this. Not so that I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. I’m... I’m so glad to see you, sweetheart. You’re the only proof I have that it WAS just a dream.”

He clung to her desperately.

“It’s just... horrible... seeing the same scenes over and over... feeling that I’ve lost you... lost my whole future...”

“But you haven’t,” she told him. “I’m right here. It’s all right. It IS just a dream, visions, I don’t know... something to do with you being a Time Lord. You see things differently to other people to start with. So of course your dreams are more real. But it didn’t happen that way. You got to me in time. You killed the Vampyres. We escaped in the TARDIS.”

Chrístõ gave a long, soft sigh and burst into tears. Julia held him closely. He sobbed and shook with grief.

Then he stopped crying. His body was dead weight in her arms. He was asleep again, or unconscious. She laid his head on the pillow and bent to check that he was breathing. He was, but only very shallowly, as he did when he entered a low level trance.

But he had never done that involuntarily before. What was doing this to him? Who was doing it?

That thought followed the first. And it made her blood run cold. Chrístõ wasn’t an ordinary man. He was a Time Lord and he had enemies of all kinds, some of them also Time Lords. Some of them might have powers even greater than his. The power to harm him without even being in the same room he was.

Or even the same planet.

This could be somebody on Gallifrey projecting these nightmares into his mind to drive him crazy and break his strength.

“How can I help you, Chrístõ?” she asked the empty air.

She was surprised when an answer came, though not from Chrístõ himself.

Chrístõ opened his eyes and let them process the faint light in the strange room. After a few minutes he was able to make out shapes in the dark. He knew that the room was dark because the window was shuttered. It was very dusty. The mattress he was lying on was old and musty. It had obviously been there for years.

The bed was the only thing left in the room. All the other furniture, if it ever had any, was gone.

He stood up and walked to the door. He was surprised to find that it opened. He wasn’t a prisoner in this strange place. But, if he wasn’t, then why was he there, and how did he get there? The last thing he remembered was a space ship full of monsters.

No, that wasn’t the last thing he remembered. It was the last thing he had been thinking about. That time when he fought space vampyres on a dead starship. A bad business, that. He had failed to save that young girl. It preyed on his mind ever since. His one failure, his one mistake.

He never even knew her name. The last victim of those fiends. But her death had cut into his soul. He had felt different about everything since. He had questioned his very purpose. When he went out into the galaxy in his own TARDIS he had wanted to help people, change things for the better. But that one failure made him realise that was impossible. There was just too much chaos in the universe. There was too much to be done. One man, even a Time Lord, couldn’t do it all.

Especially not the last Time Lord still free of the Mallus domination. The creatures had never got their hands on the Matrix and the portals of time itself, but they had all but destroyed the greatest race in the universe. He didn’t even know if there were others who escaped. He’d had no contact from anyone since the last distress signal warning him to stay away.

He was alone. He had no family, no friends. He had to abandon his TARDIS on the Ganneymede space station, disguised as unlabelled freight on the lost property deck. For the past years he had been working on freighters and trans-galactic liners, just to survive. He kept hoping to reach Earth, at least. In the twenty-fourth century he didn’t know anyone there, but it would feel more like home, at least. Maybe he could make some sort of life for himself there.

“Who is that?” Julia asked. “Where are you? Why am I hearing voices… on top of everything else. I don’t need this.”

“Wait a minute. Let me strengthen the projection.”

Julia gasped in astonishment as a figure started to appear in the middle of the bedroom. It was a woman wearing a long grey-silver dress. Then she recognised her and relief flooded through her.

“Savang!” she cried out. “Savang Hext… how did you get here?”

“I’m not ‘here’,” she answered. “I’m in Chrístõ’s father’s TARDIS. We’re coming to you. But there might not be time. So I’m projecting myself to you, Julia, because I need to tell you what to do to save Chrístõ… and save yourself, and this universe… this reality that we know.”

“I don’t understand. Why is the universe threatened… Chrístõ is ill but…”

“You don’t really need to understand it. What you need to do is trust me. I know you remember a time when you couldn’t trust me. And you might think this is the old me trying to harm you. But I promise you, Julia… I’m trying to help you, and him.”

“I trust you, Savang. What do I have to do?”

“Something most Humans shouldn’t be able to do. But you’ve been with him so long, travelled in his TARDIS, often enough. We think that’s enough to let you reach his consciousness. It is dangerous. But if you love him… if you truly love him… you’ll take the risk.”

“I love him. Tell me what to do.”

This house was empty. All of the windows were shuttered. The few sticks of furniture not taken away were dusty.

He walked through the empty kitchen and tried the back door. It was locked, of course. Through a crack in the shutters he could see an overgrown but substantial garden and beyond the trees another house. Above, the sky was iron grey. Rain was falling. He could smell the mix of hydrogen and oxygen, a trace of ozone, a few other inert elements.

That meant it was a class M planet, but there were millions of those. The style of the houses suggested a Human colony, a well developed one. That narrowed it down to a few hundred, but without a star chart and a clear night he couldn’t be more specific.

He didn’t know where he was, how he got there. He wasn’t even sure what planet this was.

“Chrístõ!”

He turned and stared at the young woman, girl, who had called his name. His hand reached for his sonic screwdriver. These days he kept it in laser mode all the time. He needed a weapon that didn’t look like a weapon.

Then he took his hand away. Whoever she was, she didn’t look like a threat to him. Just once, perhaps, he could stop being so suspicious.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Is this your house?”

“No,” she replied. “It’s your house.”

“What do you mean… I don’t own a house. My father did… before the Mallus came to our world. It’s probably ruins by now. Everything is gone. But… this isn’t mine. What use would a house be to me?”

“Chrístõ, listen to me,” the girl said. “You’re not really here. Neither am I for that matter. You’re in a deep trance, and your mind is being manipulated. Your memories have been corrupted.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Who are you? And what do you know about me?”

“I’m Julia. And I know everything about you. We didn’t even think about it. We never really mark the anniversary. But it is six years this week since we met, going by Earth Federation time. I think it’s more when you count it in TARDIS time. But… six years since you rescued me from that ship.”

“What ship?”

“The SS Aldous Huxley… the vampyres killed everyone else. I was the last survivor… I don’t know how much longer I could have held out. Then you came… You destroyed the monsters. You took me away with you…”

He stared at her face. His memory stirred. He thought about the lifeless face of the girl he had failed to rescue. She was dark haired, with brown eyes. So was this young woman. But…

“No, she died. I didn’t even find out her name. She died before I got to her. I was too late.”

“And because she died, your whole life was different. You became disillusioned with travelling. You didn’t do any of the amazing things you should have done. You didn’t meet so many people. You didn’t even save Hext from that mad woman.”

“Hext?” Chrístõ’s eyes narrowed. “The only Hext I know is Paracell Hext. Why would I save HIM from anything? He bullied me when I was at school. He’s a bigot who hates half-bloods.”

“Hext has become a close friend to you. A comrade in arms. You fought the Mallus together and saved your world. You saved your father, and eventually, you saved Savang. It’s all about her. But it’s your life that it all pivots around. And the day when you saved me is the turning point. That’s why… that’s why this house is empty. You didn’t save Mrs Corr. So you didn’t buy the house from her and make it into a home for yourself. It all fits together. But it’s a lie. This isn’t real.”

“It feels real,” he answered. “The only unreal thing here is you.” He reached out and touched her. She WAS flesh and blood. He was surprised. He was sure she was some kind of psychic projection.

“I am real. But I don’t belong here, and neither do you. Chrístõ, believe me. It ISN’T real. It’s a very realistic dream. Your mind is being played around with. You’re being made to think this is your life. But it isn’t. You aren’t here… at least not like this. You ARE in this house. But you’re lying on my bed, in a deep trance. And I’m trying to wake you up out of it.”

“Your bed? But I don’t even know you.”

“Chrístõ, don’t say that. You have to know me. You have to remember. If you don’t, this unreality will start to seep into the real world. And it will spread. It will become the reality. And that scares me so much. Because... I’m dead in this dream and I don’t want to be dead. I want to be your fiancée. I want to have a wonderful life to look forward to... as your wife. As a lady of Gallifrey. Chrístõ...”

She stepped closer and embraced him. She felt warm and soft. He reached his arms around her shoulders and held her. She was a very lovely young woman and holding her felt good.

But...

“Fiancée?” he queried. “No. I’m sorry. I just don’t... I can’t... I don’t know you. I really don’t. I...”

Then he touched her left hand. He felt the coldness of a large diamond ring on her finger. He looked down at it.

“That... diamond... comes from Gallifrey,” he said. “I can feel it... it belong to the soil of my world. It’s a part of Gallifrey.. a part of me.”

He lifted her hand and stared closer at the large solitaire. It was a perfectly beautiful diamond. An unusual cut, a rare example of its kind.

“A white point star,” he said. “The most valuable diamond in the galaxy. So perfect... so pure it could power a laser that would cut the moon in half....”

“Well, I hope not,” Julia answered. “Do you recognise it?”

“It belonged to my mother. That was the diamond my father gave to her when he asked her to marry him.”

“Yes. And he gave it to you... to give to me when we were formally betrothed.”

“I don’t...” Chrístõ sighed deeply. “I don’t...”

Then he gave a soft cry.

“Yes, I remember,” he said. “Oh, I remember. Julia... my girl... My Julia...”

She was right. This wasn’t real. In the real universe he had saved her from the vampyres. He had held her hand for the first time that day as they gathered strength for the fight against those dreadful creatures. He had read her timeline. He had seen her future – a future which he shared.

He grasped her hand, now. He closed his eyes and read her timeline. He saw her future again. He saw her travelling to Gallifrey with him, welcomed with honour as his bride-to-be. He saw their Alliance of Unity in the Panopticon, conducted by the Lord High President himself. He saw her as Lady Julia of Gallifrey, wife of the patriarch of the House of Lœngbærrow. He was that patriarch. Their future was assured. In the fullness of time, they would have a son... his own heir to ensure his proud line.

“It is real… Julia… you didn’t die… I… we…”

“Hold on to that thought, Chrístõ,” she told him. “Hold onto me. Hold onto my name. And come on back to where you belong.”

Julia blinked as she saw the daylight coming through the window. She heard the film on the TV that she had forgotten all about. She saw Chrístõ lying on her bed. He stirred and called out her name.

“Julia!” he repeated. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Wake up, now, please. I need you.”

He opened his eyes and reached out to her. He sighed deeply as he reached out and held her in his arms. He began to kiss her, but then they heard the sound of running feet on the stairs. The bedroom door burst open. Savang Hext was the first through the door. His father was a close second.

“Chrístõ, lie down,” Savang told him. “You’re still vulnerable. Let me help.”

Julia moved aside while Savang approached the bed and leaned over Chrístõ, putting her hands over his face.

“What is she doing to him?” Julia asked. She felt Lord de Lœngbærrow’s reassuringly strong hands on her shoulders.

“Protecting him from further attack,” he replied. “Don’t worry. She can help him.” Lord de Lœngbærrow glanced around the room, noting its décor. He looked at the clock by the bedside. “How is it that the two of you are still wearing nightclothes at one-thirty in the afternoon?”

“We were watching the Chronicles of Narnia,” Julia answered. She decided not to explain any further. “What happened to Chrístõ? Will you please tell me that?”

“It was the Sisterhood of Karn,” Lord de Lœngbærrow explained. “It wasn’t Chrístõ they were targeting. He was just the means to an end. They wanted to get to Savang.”

“Why?”

“Because they believe she betrayed them. She left them and married Hext. She has reclaimed her place in our society. But she spends most of her time in and around the Tower. It has so many shields and protections they can’t reach her. So they looked for a way to destroy her. They recognised that Chrístõ was the catalyst in her life. And they identified the events on the SS Aldous Huxley as the turning point in his timeline. They tried to create an alternative reality where his life changed from that point. If they hadn’t been stopped, what was just a dream would have spilled over into reality and the last six years of his life would have been entirely different.”

“I’d be dead…”

“I think we all would be. Chrístõ and Hext spearheaded the counter-offensive against the Mallus. Without them, the galaxy might be in the hands of those creatures by now. If they had succeeded in their plan, billions of lives could have been destroyed.”

“What if they try again?”

“Hext and his agents are rounding them up. They’ll be dealt with. And Savang is equipping Chrístõ with a mental barrier that will prevent them using his mind again.”

Savang was done. She leaned back. Chrístõ sat up and looked at her.

“I can feel you in my head, still,” he said.

“That will pass. But the protection will remain. You’re safe, now.”

“Julia…”

“She’s the one who really saved you. She brought you back. She’s a Human, but she did it for you. I used to think I was in love with you. But I had no idea what it meant. She’s the one for you. Hang onto her.”

“I intend to,” he replied. He looked around and reached out his hand to Julia. She ran to his side. Savang quietly stepped away. Her work was done.

“Later,” Lord de Lœngbærrow said to his son. “I expect a full explanation from you about these bedroom arrangements.”

“My bedroom arrangements are perfectly in keeping with my honour as a Time Lord of Gallifrey,” Chrístõ replied. “Except on wet Saturdays.” He smiled at Julia and claimed another kiss from her. His father nodded and turned away, taking Savang with him. His son needed to be alone with his fiancée for a while.