The silence that followed the departure of the Agaronian motorcade was not peaceful at all.
George stood on the obsidian-stone driveway of the palace, his hands clasped behind his back in a pose he hoped looked regal.
In reality, he was shaking.
The Ray-George scandal was a lead weight around his neck, and the sudden, predatory interest of the Crown Prince of Agaron had felt like the only life raft available. He had paired Liam with Arik to satisfy a diplomatic debt, to move the problem of his brilliant, difficult grandson into someone else's hands before Felix could turn the boy into a battlefield.
Behind him, the air grew cold, smelling faintly of ozone and rotting lilies.
"That was," Felix Canmore said, his voice a silk-wrapped blade, "Singularly foolish, George."
George did not turn around immediately.
He could not.
He was too busy trying to settle the frantic rhythm of his own heart.
