"Your Majesty," Sahir said calmly, "that is not a deterrent. That is a hostage threat directed at the entire government."
Dax's glare didn't soften. The golden mantle over his shoulder made him look like a war monument that had learned to speak.
"Then it will work," Dax said.
Rowan shifted his weight, the smallest movement in the world, but it was the kind that signaled he was tracking escalation rather than people. His eyes flicked to Chris once. He was the Chief of Security. He was also, annoyingly, right about pacing.
Chris put his pen down very slowly while not taking his eyes from the men in front of him.
The office was bright, but the air had changed. It had the charged stillness of a room where the most powerful man in the country was about to throw a tantrum and call it governance.
Chris looked at Dax for a long second, expression unreadable.
Then he sighed.
