"After all the announcements, this is what nobles ask?" Arik asked in the tone of a man ready to fight someone.
Liam, who had just removed the fitted vest from over his sheer shirt, glanced at him through the dressing-room mirror.
The reception had ended nearly an hour earlier, Ayla and Samuel had finally been persuaded to return to their guest rooms, and the imperial wing had settled into the quieter rhythm of late evening. Beyond the tall windows, Deira glowed beneath a clear autumn sky while the palace gardens had disappeared into dark masses of copper and red leaves beneath the pathway lamps.
Arik stood behind him in the pale suit he had worn all evening, although the jacket was open now and his carefully swept-back hair had begun falling forward around his temples.
He still looked annoyed.
Liam returned the vest to the padded bench.
"Sophia asked one question."
"She asked when the nobles should expect you to produce a child."
"That is usually considered one question."
