Liam had never seen Agaron.
That realization became increasingly strange as the aircraft descended toward the imperial capital and the city spread beneath the windows in broad avenues, dark roofs, old stone towers, and crimson banners edged in gold.
For most of his life, leaving Wrohan had never been an option.
Enia had tried.
When Liam was younger, she had proposed schools abroad, specialist programs, exchanges, anything that could reasonably justify putting distance between her son and Felix. His grandfather had rejected every attempt with the same pleasant certainty, always finding another reason Liam needed to remain nearby.
Now Agaron would be the second.
Arik stood beside him near the aircraft doors, adjusting the fastening at Liam's collar even though Rubis had already checked it twice before departure.
"You are fussing."
"I am correcting."
"It was straight."
"It is straighter now."
Liam glanced through the window.
