"I swore loyalty to you."
"Mezos..." Arik released a quiet sigh. "I am not asking you to surrender your life in Agaron for me."
"Arik, pardon me for a moment." Mezos inhaled slowly. "For someone reborn from a legendary emperor and raised by Damian and Gabriel, you are remarkably stupid sometimes."
Arik stared at him.
Mezos held his gaze without apology.
"My parents would execute men for considerably less."
"Your parents would agree with me."
That was probably true, which made the insult worse.
Mezos closed his eyes for one measured breath, perhaps gathering patience from a reserve already strained by a fractured Gate, damaged channels, several days without proper sleep, and the realization that his prince had apparently inherited Goliath’s talent for making personal decisions on behalf of everyone within reach.
When he opened them again, his blue ether had steadied.
"I did not follow Agaron through the Gate," he said. "I followed you, knowing perfectly well that crossing might keep me away from what little family I have."
He moved toward one of the chairs beside the window and sat without invitation, lowering himself carefully enough that the movement revealed the pain in his shoulder.
"I am your friend, Arik. I have almost no family aside from my father, and we both know that if he ever heard me say that aloud, I would be a dead man."
Arik raised one dark brow. "Because you consider me a friend?"
"Because General Aradia considers friendship with the crown prince an unacceptable corruption of the chain of command."
"You could be more polite."
"I could hit you too."
"With which hand?"
"I would adapt."
A faint smile touched Arik’s mouth.
Mezos pointed at him with his uninjured hand. "Do not look pleased. My father has spent my entire life ensuring that our relationship never exceeded professional standards. At home, he was General Aradia. At the academy, he was General Aradia. When I entered the military, he became my superior officer and appeared relieved that everyone else had finally adopted the correct arrangement."
"He is proud of you."
"He recommended the officer with the strongest record for your guard."
"He specifically recommended you."
"Because assigning his son to the crown prince benefited the family."
Arik studied him. "You do not believe that is the only reason."
"My father has never made a personal statement when a professional one could be substituted."
The old resignation beneath the words prevented Arik from arguing.
Mezos looked toward the city beyond the window.
"If I returned tomorrow and told him I followed you because you are my friend, he would stare at me until I corrected the wording."
"What would he accept?"
"That I acted to preserve the heir to Agaron."
"That is true."
"It is incomplete." Mezos looked back at him. "I knew the Gate might close. I knew I might never see my father again. I crossed anyway."
"That does not mean you must remain."
Mezos’s expression flattened.
"Arik."
"When the Gate reopens, you can return to Agaron, serve Cecil, and remain near your father. Taking Nuria’s oath may bind me here. It does not need to bind you."
"If you continue explaining my own loyalty to me, I will wake Liam."
Arik glanced toward the bed. "You will not."
"I will tell him about the academy."
Arik turned back slowly.
"You would not."
"I would begin with the eastern tower."
"You swore never to mention that."
"I swore never to mention it in front of your fathers."
"That was not the agreement."
"That is how I remember it."
Mezos settled more comfortably in the chair.
"Perhaps Liam can determine which of us is credible."
"You were responsible for the tower."
"I was attempting to prevent a greater disaster."
"You held the rope."
"I prevented it from slipping."
"You cut it from the ceremonial curtains."
"They were old."
"They were ceremonial."
"They were flammable."
"That was not why you destroyed them."
"You wanted to leave the academy after curfew."
"You told me the kitchen had received black-cherry pastries."
"You had not eaten dinner."
"Because you told the cook I was fasting."
"You insulted his soup."
"It was gray."
"It was mushroom."
"It had the structural integrity of mortar."
"That did not justify announcing that it could reinforce the western walls."
Arik’s mouth twitched.
Mezos saw it immediately. "You remember."
"I remember the soup."
"And lowering yourself from the eastern tower on three curtains tied together."
"They held."
"The last knot opened."
"Because you tied it."
"You tied it."
"You shouted instructions."
"I was below you."
"Shouting incorrect instructions."
"You landed safely."
"I landed in a hedge."
A short laugh escaped Arik.
Mezos answered with one of his own, roughened by exhaustion but genuine enough that he had to press his good hand against his ribs.
"You should be resting," Arik said.
"You should stop trying to dismiss your friends."
"You are my chief of security."
"I can be both."
"My father would say that compromises your judgment."
"Your father allowed Gabriel to marry him. His tolerance for compromised judgment is well established."
Arik laughed again, deeper this time.
Mezos grinned. "General Aradia would court-martial me for this conversation."
"He cannot court-martial you for being my friend."
"He would find a regulation."
"He would have to acknowledge the friendship first."
"That might kill him before he completed the paperwork."
Their laughter filled the quiet suite before both men remembered Liam was sleeping.
Too late.
The bed shifted.
Liam lifted his head, brown hair falling across one eye as he regarded them with unfocused suspicion.
"What happened to a tower?"
Both men fell silent.
Mezos recovered first.
"Arik climbed out of the eastern academy tower using ceremonial curtains."
Arik turned toward him with a lethal stare.
Liam pushed himself onto one elbow. "You did what?"
"Nothing," Arik said.
"He also insulted the cook’s soup before escaping to obtain pastries."
"I paid for them."
"With your royal signet," Mezos added.
Liam stared at Arik until his mouth began to curve.
"You climbed down a tower for pastries?"
"I was seventeen."
"That does not answer the question."
Mezos rose carefully from the chair. "There are more stories."
"No," Arik said.
"Many."
"You will regret this."
"I crossed a fractured Gate. My relationship with regret has matured."
At the door, Mezos paused.
"My father would never understand why I call you my friend," he said. "That does not mean I require his permission, and it does not mean I regret following you."
Arik held his gaze, then inclined his head.
This time, he did not offer Mezos another way out.
The door closed behind him.
Liam waited two seconds.
"What other stories?"
Arik pulled the duvet over his head.
Muffled laughter emerged from beneath it.
"I will ask Mezos tomorrow."
"You will do no such thing."