"Liam," he said.
"No, Your Majesty, let me save everyone time," Liam replied. "I am not soft. I'm not socially elegant unless threatened into it. I don't play court very well, and if someone expects me to smile through stupidity for the sake of harmony, they should probably buy a different omega."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to draw blood.
Arik did not speak and only looked at Liam.
Interested. Focused. A little darker than that, perhaps, but Liam declined to examine the possibility while standing in a sunlit room with a king who had been trying to market him for the last twenty minutes.
George recovered first, of course.
"The Crown Prince understands that people often undersell themselves when nervous—"
"I am not nervous," Liam said.
"That is not helping your case."
"I am not building a case."
"No," Arik said softly. "You are dismantling one."
Liam looked at him.
