"Please," Chris said, and he tried to sound positive, like optimism could be weaponized into reality. "For the love of every damn god in Sahan's pantheon, I hope you said my name and not Nero's."
Dax's gaze snapped to him so fast it almost felt protective on instinct, because hearing Nero's name in this context was the kind of thing that made Dax's patience turn into a blade.
Sahir didn't flinch.
Of course he didn't.
"It's a Sahan tradition for their first heir," Sahir said calmly, as if the word 'tradition' should make the room gentler. "The country speaks the child's name. It binds continuity. It makes it familiar. It makes it unquestioned."
Rowan's eyes narrowed in the background, already running through the consequences like a threat model with manners. Anna went still, papers suspended mid-air, like she'd just realized a single syllable could become a headline.
Chris stared at Sahir for a beat.
"And you're telling me this," Chris said softly, "because you already—"
