Arik choked.
It was a sharp, contained sound caught halfway between his throat and the piece of fish he had been unfortunate enough to be swallowing at the exact moment Liam decided to detonate the conversation without warning.
His hand moved to his mouth. His shoulders tightened. His golden eyes watered once, just enough that Liam stared at him in immediate disbelief.
The Crown Prince of Agaron, heir to Damian Lyon, chosen by old Ether, recognized by an ancient gate, and feared by half of Wrohan's political class, looked at Liam as if Liam had grown a second head over dinner.
Liam blinked.
Then, despite himself, he said, "That was not the reaction I expected."
Arik reached for his water with the composure of a man trying to recover his dignity before it died publicly, despite the fact that there was no one in the suite except them and possibly Kamal judging from three rooms away.
He drank.
Set the glass down.
Looked at Liam again.
"Children," he repeated.
"Yes."
