The Reborn Sovereign of Ruin, Bound by His Star

Arik opened his eyes.

"Yes."

Kamal did not answer.

Before the silence could settle fully, the internal panel beside the dining room door chimed.

Arik’s expression changed at once.

Whatever had been sitting in his face, old and unfinished, folded itself away beneath the polished calm of the Crown Prince of Agaron. All that grief he could not yet feel, all that anger he understood too cleanly, that hollow place where Hugo and Seraphina should have lived inside him, all of it vanished behind gold eyes and imperial discipline.

"Enter."

One of his secretaries stepped inside with a tablet held against her chest and the expression of a woman who had been sent to deliver a message no sane employee would volunteer to carry.

"Your Highness."

Arik looked at her. "Sella sent you?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Secretary Sella is with Lord Mezos in the secure room."

"Then speak."

The secretary swallowed once.

"The audience with Their Imperial Majesties has been moved forward."

Kamal’s brows rose by the smallest degree.

Arik did not blink. "By how much?"

"As soon as you are available, Your Highness."

The room went very still.

Kamal set his tea down with exquisite care.

Arik leaned back slightly. "My parents requested this?"

The secretary hesitated. That hesitation answered more than any report.

"Officially, yes."

Arik’s mouth curved. "Unofficially?"

"The request came through the imperial household channel."

Kamal’s expression turned almost serene.

Arik closed his eyes for one brief second.

"Edward."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Of course it was Edward.

Damian might have been the Emperor, Gabriel might have known every secret before it finished becoming a secret, but Edward Stanford moved through the imperial household with the merciless authority of a man who had raised schedules, children, emperors, and disasters into something resembling order.

And now Arik had acquired a mate in Wrohan before breakfast.

Naturally, Edward had decided the schedule was offensive.

"Did he give a reason?" Arik asked.

The secretary looked down at the tablet, though Arik suspected she had memorized the message out of terror.

"Chief Stanford stated that delaying a necessary family conversation because His Highness has chosen to complicate international diplomacy before breakfast is not an efficient use of imperial time."

Kamal made a sound. It was not a cough.

Arik looked at him.

Kamal looked back with perfect dignity.

The secretary continued, braver now or simply resigned. "He also stated that Her Imperial Majesty has already been informed of the bond-related developments, and His Imperial Majesty is currently being prevented from calling directly only because Chief Stanford considers direct paternal enthusiasm administratively destabilizing."

Arik stared for a second, then he laughed.

It slipped out before he could stop it, quiet and warm enough that the secretary visibly relaxed.

"Direct paternal enthusiasm," he repeated.

"The original wording was less formal, Your Highness."

Arik’s eyes sharpened with interest. "What was the original wording?"

The secretary went pale again.

Kamal, traitor that he was, looked fascinated.

After a brief and visible struggle with survival instinct, the secretary said, "Chief Stanford said His Imperial Majesty was being prevented from making a nuisance of himself."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Arik laughed again.

Of course his family knew.

The completed bond would have shifted his ether signature through the imperial grid the moment it settled. Gabriel would have noticed before anyone dared write the first report. Damian would have noticed because Gabriel noticed. Cecil would have shouted. Orfeo would have pretended not to care while asking invasive questions through three separate channels. The twins were too young, but someone would still have told them because the imperial household had never known how to leave drama unfed.

And Edward... Edward was curious.

That was the most dangerous part.

Edward Stanford could hide curiosity behind folded napkins, sealed cabinets, and household protocol, but Arik had known him too long. The man wanted to see Liam. Not only as the Crown Prince’s mate, not only as the Wrohan engineer who had apparently captured Arik’s attention so thoroughly that diplomacy had become secondary to breathing near him, but also as the person now tied to the imperial family whether he liked it or not.

Edward would call it a procedure.

Gabriel would call it an assessment.

Damian would call it being a father.

Arik would call all of them impossible.

"They all know," Kamal said mildly.

Arik glanced at him. "Yes."

"All of them?"

"My family?" Arik’s mouth curved. "Yes."

Kamal considered that. "Lord Liam will enjoy that."

"Lord Liam will threaten to dismantle the secure room if too many people stare at him."

"Also enjoyable."

Arik gave him a look.

Kamal lifted his tea. "I am old. I take entertainment where I find it."

The secretary wisely pretended she had heard nothing.

Arik stood, and the room changed with him.

The private conversation ended. Goliath’s old terrace, Hugo and Seraphina’s names, Amara sleeping through pain, and Liam’s abandoned coffee—all of it remained, but it moved behind him as duty stepped forward.

"Tell Sella to open the secure channel," Arik said. "Inform Mezos the audience has been moved up. I want the room sealed before the connection is accepted." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And tell Edward," Arik added, "that if he intends to reorganize my schedule from Agaron, he should at least have the decency to send a bottle of his stash of cognac."

The secretary froze.

Kamal’s mouth twitched.

Arik smiled faintly. "Verbatim."

"Yes, Your Highness."

She bowed and left quickly, probably before anyone could ask her to insult another household legend.

Kamal rose more slowly, smoothing one hand over his sleeve.

"You are provoking Chief Stanford."

"I am greeting him."

"He will hide the cognac."

"He already has."

Kamal nodded gravely. "Wise man."

Arik moved toward the adjoining secure room, then stopped beside Liam’s abandoned cup.

For one moment, his gaze lowered to the faint mark at the porcelain rim.

The bond flickered somewhere below.

Irritation. Focus. A flash of sharp satisfaction.

Liam was safe.

Arik breathed once and turned away.

"Come, Kamal."

Kamal followed him.

The secure room doors opened, releasing the low hum of layered wards and waiting imperial consequences.

Arik stepped inside knowing exactly what awaited him on the other side of the call.

Gabriel would know too much.

Damian would pretend he did not want details while wanting every detail.

Edward would be just out of frame, listening.

And somewhere in Agaron, every member of his family had already begun forming opinions about Liam Sienna Canmore.

Poor Liam.

Arik smiled.

He had no idea.