"I have wanted you out of Wrohan for years."

Liam lowered the cup slowly, then he looked at Arik.

Then back at Enia.

"Is this my mother?" he asked carefully. "Or did you replace her with an agent while I was unconscious?"

Enia picked up her teaspoon and lightly smacked his knuckles with it.

"Ow."

"Do not be ridiculous."

Arik went very still beside him as he was very obviously trying not to laugh.

Liam turned on him. "Do not."

Arik pressed two fingers against his mouth and failed magnificently.

"I understand many things now," he said.

"No, you don’t."

"I understand everything."

Enia set the teaspoon down with chilling elegance. "He inherited his personality honestly."

Liam stared at her. "You are supposed to defend me."

"I am defending you. I am also correcting inaccurate statements at breakfast. These are not mutually exclusive."

Arik’s shoulders shook once.

Liam pointed at him. "You are next."

"I look forward to it."

"No, you don’t."

"I might."

Enia took another sip of tea, apparently satisfied that discipline had been administered.

Then her gaze moved between them again.

Not as a mother checking for injury this time.

As a woman who had spent too many years reading rooms where affection was hidden under alliances, contracts, scandals, and survival strategies.

"You two look," she said slowly, "as if you have been married for years."

Liam choked on air.

Arik, to his immense credit, did not. He only lifted an eyebrow.

Liam pressed a hand to his chest. "Mother."

"What?"

"That is an insane thing to say."

"It is an observationally accurate thing to say."

"We have known each other for three weeks."

"And yet he feeds you before you collapse, you insult him like a legal spouse, he places a hand on your knee to calm you down, and you let him."

Liam opened his mouth and nothing came out, because she was right.

Arik looked unbearably composed.

"Do not look pleased," Liam warned.

"I am not."

"You are internally smug again."

"Perhaps a little."

Enia ignored them both with the composure of someone who had already won this part of the conversation.

"That type of compatibility is rare," she said. "It does not make the situation simple. It does not make George’s announcement acceptable. It does not mean you owe Agaron anything. But I am not foolish enough to pretend I cannot see what is in front of me."

Liam stared down at his plate.

The toast remained there accusing him.

Arik’s fruit arrangement remained worse.

"It’s not that simple," Liam muttered.

"No," Enia agreed. "It never is. But safety is seldom in perfect form."

That made him look up.

Enia’s expression had cooled again, but not toward him.

Toward the city beyond the windows.

Wrohan glittered outside in the morning light, its ether tramlines sweeping between towers, its noble districts polished white and gold, its old grid humming beneath newer cosmetic upgrades like a sick animal dressed for court.

"Wrohan is not safe for you," Enia said.

Liam’s hand tightened around his cup.

"It is my country."

"It is the country that taught you how to survive it."

"That is different."

"Yes," she said. "And worse."

The words landed quietly.

Arik did not interrupt.

Enia’s red eyes returned to Liam.

"Under George, you are a convenience. Under Felix, you are blood to be claimed, corrected, or buried. Under any heir they shape, you will remain either a tool or a threat." Her voice stayed level, but something old and furious lived underneath it. "That is not safety. That is a waiting room for disaster."

Liam’s jaw tightened.

"People depend on my work here."

"Yes," Enia said. "And that is exactly why they will never stop finding reasons to keep you."

Silence fell over the table.

The ether filament under the table edge gave off a gentle warmth against Liam’s wrist. Modern, discreet, elegant. Wrohan liked everything hidden until it became useful.

Liam hated how much that thought hurt.

Enia leaned back slightly.

"I am not telling you to leave today. I am telling you Wrohan deserves to burn, and you are not going to keep it stable for people like Felix and George."

Liam stared at her.

Then, helplessly, groaned and dragged both hands down his face.

"Mother."

"What?"

"You cannot say Wrohan deserves to burn at breakfast."

"I can, and I did."

Arik’s mouth curved faintly over his coffee.

Liam pointed at him without looking. "Do not encourage her."

"I am drinking."

"You are drinking approvingly."

"That sounds difficult to prove."

Enia ignored them both and looked directly at Arik.

"As for you, Your Highness."

Arik set his cup down, giving Enia all his attention.

"Yes, Lady Ravenwood?" 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"If Liam suffers because of you," Enia said, her voice calm enough to become terrifying, "I will retaliate."

Liam groaned again, this time into his hands. "Can we not threaten international incidents before I finish the hot chocolate?"

"No," Enia said.

Arik did not smile now. "Understood."

"I am not finished."

"Of course."

Enia’s red eyes did not move from him. "I do not mean if politics become difficult. They already are. I do not mean if court gossip becomes unpleasant. It always is. I do not mean if he chooses something and later discovers choice has consequences. Liam is not a child, however much he insists on making me question that by vanishing overnight."

"I was medically compromised," Liam muttered.

"You were in pajamas that did not belong to you."

"That is unrelated."

"It is extremely related."

Arik’s shoulders moved once, suspiciously.

Liam glared at him. "I will stab you with the jam spoon."

Enia continued as if neither of them had spoken.

"I mean if you cage him. If you use his heat, his instincts, his trust, his brilliance, or his political vulnerability to make a decision he would not have made freely. If Agaron becomes another gilded room where men praise him while taking pieces from him, then I will become unpleasant."

Arik inclined his head. "I believe you."

"You should."

Liam lowered his hands slowly.

The embarrassment was still there, hot and unbearable under his skin, but underneath it was something quieter.

Relief.

Not because Enia approved of Arik. She had not, not exactly, but because she had opened a door Liam had not known he was allowed to see.

He could leave.

Not today. Not because George had announced it. Not because Arik wanted him. Not because Felix had made staying poisonous.

But if he chose to, one day, he could leave Wrohan.

He could stop being the engineer holding broken systems together for men who would chain his hands the moment he stopped being convenient.

The thought was terrifying.

It was also the first breath of air he had taken all morning that did not feel borrowed.

Enia saw it.

Her expression softened by the smallest degree.

"You have options," she said quietly. "That is all I came to remind you."

Liam swallowed.

Then he looked down at his plate because the alternative was doing something emotionally catastrophic, like crying near toast.

"I hate this breakfast," he muttered.

"No, you don’t," Arik said softly.

Liam turned his head and glared at him.

Arik’s gaze held his, but there was only reassurance.

Liam hated him a little for that too.

Enia picked up her tea again.

"Eat," she said. "Afterward, we decide whether George loses only the narrative or several years of peace."