Chris left the west drawing room without looking back.
Not because he didn't trust Andrew to tell Mia. He did. That was the problem, Andrew would do it properly, he would carry it like a duty and pretend it didn't hurt him.
Chris didn't want to watch.
He held the cream envelope in one hand and Beth's folder in the other, grip a little too tight, like paper could slip away and take the truth with it. The corridor outside was quiet in that controlled way only a king's security detail could produce.
Rowan was nowhere in sight, which meant he was exactly where he needed to be.
Chris walked fast, not running, but close. His thoughts kept trying to jump ahead to Mia's face, her voice, the way she would go very still before she got angry. He pushed it down. One thing at a time. If he started splitting himself now, he'd lose control in a hallway and give the capital exactly what it loved.
He reached the office wing.
