"Detain Prince Arik," he ordered.
No one moved.
The two senior guards standing by the heavy oak doors did not flinch. They did not reach for their weapons. They did not even look at Arik.
Instead, their eyes moved deliberately, heavily, to Rex.
Ray felt a cold, unsettling crawl beneath his skin as the realization finally settled. It was the sickening drop of a man stepping confidently onto a stair that simply was not there. For over twenty years, he had operated under the assumption that his name, his bloodline, and his connection to Felix provided him with a permanent, invisible shield.
That shield had just shattered against the reality of a dead king.
"That was an order," Ray said.
His voice was a fraction too tight. A fraction too loud.
Rex rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers just inches from his father's frozen corpse.
"Guards."
The two men snapped to rigid attention, their uniforms clanking sharply in the quiet room.
"Your Highness."
