Arik's smile did not fade.
If anything, it settled deeper, quieter, as if Liam's accusation had pleased him in a way that should have required legal oversight.
"The diplomatic palace," Arik corrected.
Liam stared at him. "Do not hide behind architecture."
"I do not. I don't want to be associated with that cursed design. I feel like someone put everything expensive and ugly and someone regurgitated it on the floor."
For one full second, Liam forgot he was angry.
He turned his head and stared at Arik with the blank expression reserved for machinery exploding after being sworn to be completely stable.
"You," Liam said slowly, "are insulting your own diplomatic palace?"
"I am insulting Wrohan's architectural crimes," Arik said. "The building is theirs. We are merely enduring it."
"You just called the place you are taking me cursed."
"Yes."
"And expected that to reassure me?"
"No. I expected accuracy to reassure you."
"That has never reassured anyone normal."
