Chris stepped down first, because he was not waiting another second.
The convoy waited in perfect formation. Dark vehicles, polished to the point of insult, engines humming low. Fitzgeralt security stood like statues, eyes alert, and faces calm in that way men were only calm when they were trained and paid to be terrifying.
Chris didn't care.
He wanted Lucas. He wanted to see the baby. He wanted to see something soft and alive that wasn't a treaty clause.
Behind him, Dax stepped off the train with the same unbothered grace he carried into war rooms. His suit looked freshly tailored, his hair perfect, and his eyes clear. He moved like a man who had slept through the night and had no shame about it.
Chris didn't speak to him about this crime. He simply walked.
Eryx stumbled out next, rubbing his eyes, hair disheveled, guards closing in around him instantly. He opened his mouth as if to announce something important to the morning.
Chris didn't look back.
Rowan did.
