"Not yet."
Kamal coughed once into his fist.
It might have been a warning.
It might have been laughter attempting a dignified death.
Olivier's green eyes flicked toward him, then back to Goliath. "I came to speak privately."
"You entered through a guarded gallery, ignored my staff, brought witnesses, and announced yourself on my terrace."
"I dismissed the witnesses."
"You failed."
Olivier's expression tightened.
Goliath leaned back against the cushions, his robe still untouched beside him, rings catching the morning light as he rested one hand lazily over the arm of the divan. He knew exactly what picture he made. Half-awake, barely dressed, and still more sovereign than Olivier could become with three crowns and a choir behind him.
"What do you want?"
Olivier's smile returned, thinner now. "Is that any way to greet family?"
"No."
A pause.
Goliath tilted his head. "It is, however, how I greet you."
Kamal's gaze lowered again.
