Felix's mouth softened at the edges. To anyone else, it might have looked like vulnerability.
To Arik, it looked rehearsed. To Goliath, then, it had looked like restraint.
"I wanted to ask if I had offended you."
Goliath arched a brow. "Recently?"
Felix exhaled, almost a laugh, but it did not live long enough to become one. "I am serious."
"A terrible habit."
"Then humor me."
Goliath turned toward the window, where the capital spread beneath the palace in clean, sunlit layers, with towers and roads and ether lines running through the city like veins under skin. "If you had offended me, Felix, you would know."
Felix was quiet for a second.
Then, softly, "Would I?"
Goliath looked back at him.
The question hung between them with more weight than it should have carried.
Felix stepped closer.
"I have been at your side for over eight years."
"Near my side," Goliath corrected.
Something passed through Felix's eyes.
