Chris's office was quiet in the way he preferred.
The door was closed, the corridor muted, the only sound the soft hum of the palace systems and the faint ticking of the clock embedded into the far wall. His laptop sat open on the desk, the screen filled with text dense enough to demand attention rather than skim-reading. Dax was occupied elsewhere with military briefings and layered meetings, the kind that required command presence rather than diplomatic finesse. Not Chris's role. Not yet.
He would sit in on those eventually. But not without preparation or without context.
So he read.
Dax of Saha. Fourth prince.
Born not of the queen, but of a consort, one who had never sought influence, never competed for favor. After the former king's death, she had left Saha quietly, returned to her homeland, and remarried within the Alamina Empire. She was still alive and actively distant.
Chris paused there longer than necessary. He never heard Dax talking about her.
