Mezos had survived a fractured Gate, the fall of an ancient empire, several assassination attempts, and more than a year of serving Arik while Liam discovered increasingly creative ways to endanger himself.
Apparently, none of those experiences had prepared him for his father announcing his retirement.
"This is a disaster."
Liam looked up from the sofa.
Mezos had been pacing the private sitting room for nearly ten minutes, his long red hair tied loosely at the nape and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled to his elbows. His abandoned tablet lay on the coffee table beside a perfectly untouched cup of tea.
Arik occupied the armchair opposite Liam, looking entirely too comfortable for someone whose chief of security was apparently experiencing a personal catastrophe.
"Your father wants to live near you," Liam said.
"Exactly."
Liam blinked.
"I am failing to identify the problem."
"That is because you met him yesterday."
"He seemed nice."
Mezos stopped pacing.
