It was late in the night when Liam and Arik could finally retreat to their car and go home.
Home, Liam thought, and did not know what to do with the word.
The engagement reception had stretched for hours beneath garden lights, applause, careful smiles, selected speeches, dangerous relatives, hopeful civilians, and Rex looking more and more like a man who intended to survive the night purely so he could begin arrests in the morning.
Liam had survived too.
Barely.
His suit was still correct. His hair was still down. His ring sat warm on his finger, catching the low ether-light inside the car every time he moved his hand.
Arik had planned to be decent.
Restrained.
Possibly even demure, if one were generous and willing to lie on behalf of imperial princes.
Unfortunately for his intentions, Liam had declared war on his restraint and was now straddling him in the back seat of the car.
