Chapter 448: A Different Problem

Pregnancy, Liam discovered, was considerably less dramatic than everyone around him had prepared for.

By Arik’s birthday, his stomach had begun rounding enough that tailored clothes required adjustments, but otherwise he felt remarkably normal. The brief nausea from early pregnancy remained mild, strawberries were still offensive, and exhaustion arrived earlier in the evenings than he preferred, but there were no midnight cravings or mornings spent leaning over a sink.

Arik regarded this suspiciously.

Every few days, Liam caught him watching while he ate as though expecting the meal to suddenly become an emergency.

“I am fine,” Liam told him over breakfast one morning.

Arik, seated beside him in a loose white shirt with his coffee untouched, glanced toward Liam’s plate.

“You said that yesterday.”

“Because I was also fine yesterday.”

Arik reached over and rested his palm against the growing curve beneath Liam’s shirt.

The movement had become instinctive.

Liam let him.

By his own birthday in September, the child had started moving strongly enough that Arik abandoned entire conversations whenever he felt it.

Liam could be discussing budgets, laboratory construction, or foreign investment, and Arik would suddenly stop listening because a small foot had pressed against his palm.

Gabriel found this deeply entertaining.

He and Damian had come to Deira for Liam’s birthday, and Gabriel had spent most of dinner examining Liam with growing disbelief.

“You are eating that?”

Liam looked down at the lemon sauce over his chicken.

“Yes.”

Gabriel stared.

“What?”

“I couldn’t smell citrus during any of my pregnancies without becoming ill.”

Damian took a slow drink beside him.

Gabriel pointed at Liam’s plate.

“Lemon was evil.”

Liam cut another piece of chicken.

“It tastes fine.”

Gabriel looked personally offended by the injustice.

Arik smiled.

Liam laughed hard enough that the baby shifted beneath his ribs.

The months continued that way.

Not effortlessly, because carrying a child was still carrying a child. Liam’s back began aching after long days, stairs became irritating, and by evening he often wanted nothing more than loose clothing and Arik’s hands working carefully over the muscles beside his spine.

But he worked.

He ate normally.

He slept reasonably well.

His physician remained satisfied.

Arik nevertheless monitored him with the attention of a man responsible for a fragile diplomatic treaty.

Liam learned to tolerate it because arguing usually resulted in Arik becoming more attentive.

By December, his abdomen had become impossible to ignore.

Winter had settled over Deira, frosting the palace gardens white and turning the windows of their private apartments cold beneath Liam’s fingertips. He had begun moving more slowly simply because there was now a child occupying enough space to make bending over feel like an engineering problem.

Lucien’s coronation arrived during the first heavy snowfall.

Arik did not go.

He had threatened not to attend months earlier and, to everyone’s surprise except Liam’s, kept his word.

Cyran represented the government.

Kamal represented the imperial household.

Theron accompanied him under the highly respectable explanation of providing senior military presence, although Mezos had looked deeply suspicious when Arik suggested they remain in Lirya for several days afterward.

“It is a difficult assignment,” Arik had said.

Mezos stared at him.

“You booked them a lake residence.”

“For recovery.”

Rubis laughed and walked away before the argument developed.

The coronation passed without incident.

Lucien became King of Lirya in a ceremony watched by the continent, appearing composed enough that nobody unfamiliar with the previous two years would have guessed how carefully Cassian had prepared him.

Arik watched approximately twelve minutes of the broadcast.

Then Liam needed help getting out of a chair.

The new King of Lirya immediately became less important.

Two days later, Ayla arrived in Deira.

Simon came with her, carrying more luggage than either of them needed for a short visit and complaining about how cold Nuria had become before they even reached the private apartments.

Liam was happy to see them.

Arik was happy enough.

For approximately twenty minutes.

They gathered in one of the smaller sitting rooms overlooking the snow-covered garden, where a fire burned low beneath the stone mantel, and Liam had arranged himself carefully into the corner of a deep sofa with several cushions supporting his back.

Ayla sat opposite him in dark trousers and a wine-colored sweater, her brown hair loose around her shoulders.

She was restless.

Liam noticed.

Arik noticed too.

Simon apparently knew exactly why.

He had been looking into his tea for the past five minutes with the expression of someone determined not to participate in whatever was coming.

Liam narrowed his eyes.

“What did you do?”

Ayla looked offended.

“Why do you assume I did something?”

“Because Simon has not made eye contact with Arik since you arrived.”

Simon immediately looked at Arik.

Arik leaned back in his chair.

“What happened?”

Ayla inhaled.

Liam suddenly became suspicious.

This was not academy trouble.

Not from the way she kept pressing her fingers together.

“Ayla.”

She looked toward him.

“There is something I should probably tell you before someone else does.”

Arik’s expression changed slightly.

Liam placed one hand over the side of his belly as the child shifted.

“Tell us.”

Ayla glanced at Simon.

He gave the smallest possible shrug. Coward.

She looked back at Liam.

“I’m seeing someone.”

Liam blinked.

That was considerably less disastrous than expected.

“Oh.”

Arik remained suspicious.

“Who?”

Ayla hesitated.

That was when Liam knew that it was going to be terrible.

“Lucien.”

Silence settled over the room.

Outside, snow slid softly from one of the garden hedges.

Liam stared at his sister.

Arik did not move at all.

Ayla hurried on.

“It started months ago. We were talking while he was still in Nuria, and nothing happened while everything with Gerard was unresolved. After he went back to Lirya, we kept talking, and then—”

“You are dating the King of Lirya.”

Arik’s voice was remarkably calm.

Liam slowly turned toward him.

That was not reassuring.

Ayla crossed her arms.

“Yes.”

Arik looked toward the fire.

Liam knew that expression.

He reached across and put a hand on Arik’s forearm.

“No.”

“I have not said anything.”

“You are thinking very loudly.”

Arik’s golden eyes returned to Ayla.

Lucien.

The man apparently dating Liam’s younger sister without once mentioning it.

Arik’s jaw tightened.

Liam squeezed his arm.

Ayla watched him carefully.

Simon took another sip of tea.

Arik finally spoke.

“I am going to kill him.”

Liam sighed.

There it was.