Chapter 312: Returned
Liam had been alone for twenty-three minutes, which was apparently long enough for a wedding budget to become personally offensive.
His technical-language lecturer had left him in the private sitting room with three corrected exercises, two recommended archive texts, and the expectation that Liam would use the remainder of the afternoon productively.
Liam had intended to.
Unfortunately, Rubis had left the wedding projections open.
He sat curled into one end of the long cream sofa, dressed in charcoal trousers and a soft burgundy shirt with the sleeves pushed above his forearms. His hair was loose after a morning of lectures, falling over one shoulder while he stared at a suspended rendering of the ceremonial hall.
Or pretended to.
The flowers had changed twice.
Liam had noticed because the structural calculations beneath the suspended installations had finally appeared.
Someone had listened to him.
He scrolled past three pages discussing fabric.
That was enough productivity for one day.
The doors opened without ceremony.
Narissa entered carrying a tray with tea and something that looked suspiciously like an attempt to make Liam eat between scheduled meals.
By now, neither of them bothered with unnecessary formalities when they were alone.
She crossed the room in a dark gray suit cut in the older imperial-household style, the long jacket fitted neatly through the waist before falling straight over matching trousers. Silver threaded the hairpinned smoothly at her nape, though at ninety-two she still looked perhaps sixty.
Her gaze went first to Liam.
Then to the wedding projection.
Then to the untouched stylus.
"You have been working very hard."
"I read the floral budget."
"How much?"
"The title."
Narissa placed the tray on the low table. "An excellent beginning."
Liam looked at her suspiciously.
She poured his tea.
That was why they got along.
Narissa did not chase him with schedules or invent reasons why something ceremonial required immediate emotional investment. If Cassian had ordered his attendance, she told him Cassian had ordered it. If Arik wanted something done, she made that equally clear. If neither man cared, Narissa possessed the revolutionary opinion that Liam could decide for himself.
It was possibly the healthiest professional relationship in the imperial household.
Liam accepted the cup she handed him.
"Do I actually have to decide between these flowers?"
"No."
He looked up.
Narissa sat in the armchair opposite him and crossed one ankle neatly over the other. "Rubis needs to know whether you actively dislike any of them. If you do not, he will make the final selection with the ceremonial staff."
"That is the best thing anyone has told me today."
"I suspected it might be."
Liam took a sip.
"Why can’t everyone explain duties like you do?"
"Because then half the palace would discover that several crises are merely decisions with decorative language around them."
Liam lowered his cup.
"I knew I liked you."
Narissa’s mouth curved faintly.
Three months working together had taught Liam that the small expression was practically laughter by her standards.
She picked up the projection control and reduced the endless decorative documents to three summary panels.
"There. Flowers, table arrangements, ceremonial textiles. Red means you must decide. Gold means Rubis would appreciate an opinion. Gray means you may ignore it completely."
Liam stared at the reorganized display.
"Can I keep you forever?"
"That depends on whether you continue paying me."
"You are paid by the imperial household."
"Then I suggest you preserve the imperial household."
Liam laughed into his tea.
The outer doors opened again.
Narissa looked over first.
Arik entered alone.
He had clearly come straight from the imperial office. His fitted black jacket remained fastened over a high-collared shirt, gold embroidery following one cuff and the edge of the collar. His dark hair had begun escaping the severe arrangement required for council, one strand falling near his temple.
He should have looked like a man arriving to discuss another report.
He did not.
Liam noticed the closed hand at his side only because Narissa did.
Her attention rested there for perhaps a second.
Something changed in her face—not curiosity, but recognition that whatever Arik carried had nothing to do with schedules, coronation protocols, or household administration.
She stood immediately.
"I believe we have finished."
Liam glanced at the projection. "You arrived ten minutes ago."
"And accomplished everything necessary."
Narissa collected her own tablet but deliberately left the tea tray.
As she passed Arik, her gaze dropped once more toward his hand.
She understood.
Liam could practically see the decision occur.
She inclined her head toward Arik before looking back at Liam.
"The gray files remain safe to ignore."
"What about the gold ones?"
"Tomorrow."
Liam smiled.
Narissa reached the door, then paused.
"And if Rubis asks, we discussed flowers for forty minutes."
"You are willing to lie to my chief steward?"
"I am ninety-two, Your Highness. I am willing to survive him."
The doors closed behind her.
Liam stared after her for a moment.
"I want to give her a raise."
Arik approached the sofa. "You discovered that three months ago."
"She deserves another one."
"I will inform Rubis."
"That ruins the gesture."
Arik stopped in front of him.
Only then did Liam notice that whatever humor had entered his face was covering something softer.
His attention dropped to Arik’s hand.
"What do you have?"
Arik opened his fingers.
Liam stopped breathing.
The ring rested against his palm.
Dark gold, almost black near the edges where Arik had worked ether into the metal. The crimson inlay was still there, catching the afternoon light exactly as it had nine months ago.
There was one small scratch along the side.
Otherwise—
"My ring."
Liam set the cup down.
The wedding projection, the budgets, and the rest of the room disappeared from relevance.
He reached out, then stopped before touching it.
"Where did you find it?"
"Near the old transit level. It had fallen beneath a maintenance conduit."
"That isn’t where I came through."
"I know."
Liam looked at him sharply.
"Scanned?"
"Three times."
"And?"
"Nothing that should not be there. My locating ward survived."
Liam’s eyes narrowed despite the sudden pressure behind his ribs.
"You put a locating ward in my engagement ring."
"I put it there before I gave it to you."
"That is disturbingly possessive."
Arik looked entirely untroubled. "You married the correct man for that complaint."
"We are not married yet."
"Three months."
Liam finally took the ring.
He had told himself losing it did not matter.
The Gate had taken far more important things from them. He had crossed unconscious and poisoned. Arik had nearly destroyed himself forcing his way after him. They had found an entire isolated empire waiting on the other side.
There had been no reasonable space to mourn a piece of jewelry.
That had not stopped Liam from checking his bare finger for weeks.
"It’s scratched."
"I can repair it."
"No."
Arik’s gaze lifted.
Liam ran his thumb over the tiny mark.
"Leave it."
For a moment Arik simply watched him.
Then he took the ring back.
Liam expected him to hand it over properly.
Instead, Arik lowered himself onto one knee.
Liam stared down at him.
"You know we are already engaged."
"I remember."
"And already mated."
"I was present."
"This is unnecessarily dramatic."
Arik took Liam’s left hand.
His expression had softened, golden eyes fixed on Liam rather than the ring.
"Nine months ago, I gave this to you before governments could turn our engagement into theirs."
Liam went quiet.
Arik slid the band onto his finger.
The fit was unchanged.
A faint pulse moved through the old ward, Arik’s gold answering first before Liam’s own ether stirred through the crimson inlay.
Arik lifted his hand and kissed the ring.
Liam swallowed.
"I missed it."
"I know."
"You always say that."
"You are not difficult to know."
Liam narrowed his eyes, though there was little force behind it.
Then he reached down, caught Arik by the collar, and pulled him closer.
The kiss was slow.
Nothing like the ceremony waiting three months away, when Nuria would watch Arik become emperor and Liam become his consort before the Core.
When Liam pulled back, their foreheads remained together.
"The ceremonial ring can be ridiculous," he murmured.
"As ridiculous as you want."
"But this one stays."
Arik’s thumb passed over the small scratch.
"This one stays."
Behind them, the wedding projection quietly timed out from inactivity.
Narissa, Liam decided, had excellent instincts.