An hour later, Liam was elbow-deep inside the eastern compression housing of the Vanguard, trying very hard not to think about Arik.

He was failing beautifully.

The maintenance platform hummed faintly beneath his boots while white ether climbed through the relay spine overhead in clean, luminous streams. Around him, the lower engineering crews moved with the focused rhythm Lab V always carried during active diagnostics—measured voices, tool clicks, occasional swearing from the lower catwalks whenever someone encountered wiring designed by an idiot.

Normally, the sound calmed him.

Normally, the Vanguard made sense in a way people did not.

Today, every valve adjustment reminded him of Arik’s hands.

Every pulse of ether reminded him of the bond.

Every time his body relaxed into the familiar heat of the machine, some traitorous instinct purred because somewhere above the city, Arik still existed.

Liam tightened a stabilizer lock with entirely unnecessary force.

The bolt squealed.

"Careful," one of the engineers below called. "That casing costs more than my apartment."

Liam looked down over the rail.

"So do you," he replied automatically.

The engineer looked offended.

Mara snorted from the upper platform.

Liam returned to work before anyone could continue the conversation.

The wrench moved smoothly in his hand, muscle memory taking over while his mind continued spiraling through increasingly catastrophic realizations.

Arik’s parents.

The imperial household.

The fact that he had apparently spent over a week effectively unreachable while half in heat, half sleep-deprived, and entirely distracted by a prince who smelled like warm stone and strategic collapse.

Liam froze mid-adjustment.

Slowly, he looked toward the inactive comm terminal mounted beside the maintenance console.

Mara, who had unfortunately known him for years, immediately noticed.

"Oh no," she said.

Liam stared at the terminal.

"Mara."

"How long?"

Liam continued staring.

"Liam."

"...define long."

Mara closed her eyes briefly.

"How long?"

"I turned the comm off during the heat spike."

"That does not answer the question."

"I forgot to turn it back on."

Silence.

Then Mara inhaled sharply. "How many days ago?"

Liam did very quick mental calculations.

The calculations did not improve anything.

"...approximately five."

Mara stared at him in horror.

"Five days?" 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"There were circumstances."

"You vanished for five days?"

"I was busy."

"You disappeared with the Crown Prince of Agaron!"

"That sounds worse when you phrase it emotionally."

"Liam!"

Below them, someone dropped a tool.

Neither of them noticed.

Mara dragged one hand down her face with the exhausted despair of a woman realizing she would shortly witness Lady Enia and Lady Mirelle achieve new forms of violence.

"My mother approved of my engagement with Arik," he said slowly, as though trying to calm himself through structured facts. "She knew where I was. I talked with her three days ago."

"Yes."

"But you did not contact her about the mark or to tell her you are fine after heat?"

"I was occupied."

"You did not contact your aunt either."

Liam’s silence confessed enough.

Mara looked upward, perhaps hoping the ceiling would collapse and spare them both the future.

"Oh, this is going to become a national incident."

"It is not a national incident."

"Lady Mirelle once threatened a minister because he delayed replying to an invitation for twelve hours."

"That was different."

"He was alive when he made the mistake."

Liam pressed one hand over his eyes.

Somewhere behind him, the upper access doors opened with a hydraulic hiss.

Stanford stepped onto the platform with the same calm professionalism he brought to everything, followed by Alexander carrying a sealed diagnostic case under one arm.

Mara turned immediately.

"Stanford," she said gravely, "how difficult would it be to hide a body in the lower turbine sectors?"

Stanford did not even blink. "Depends whose body."

Liam looked deeply betrayed.

Alexander, meanwhile, caught enough of the atmosphere to immediately step backward.

"No," he said. "I work university security. I am not becoming involved in rich people mating problems."

"You are already involved," Mara informed him.

"I opened one door."

"You handed him the wrench."

"That was emotional first aid."

Liam ignored all of them with the grim focus of a man moments away from making another terrible decision.

Instead of accepting either incoming call, he reached past the flashing notifications and opened the Ravenwood-Armstrong business account.

Mara saw it happen.

Her face drained of color.

"Oh no."

Stanford’s brows lifted slightly. "That was not the personal channel."

"No," Mara whispered. "That was the family network."

Alexander looked between them. "There’s a difference?"

All three of them looked at him.

Alexander raised both hands immediately. "Right. Rich people."

The business account loaded.

Then the terminal detonated.

Notifications flooded the screen so quickly the interface lagged behind them.

Ravenwood Holdings: 26 unread.

Armstrong Civil Infrastructure Group: 14 unread.

Ravenstone External Logistics: 11 unread.

Priority Family Channel: 39 unread.

Liam stared.

Mara leaned over one shoulder against all survival instincts and immediately recoiled.

"Oh, they formed committees."

"That is not a sentence that should exist," Alexander muttered.

The messages kept arriving.

Uncle Victor Armstrong: Is the Agaronian heir competent or just attractive?

Aunt Celeste Ravenstone: Your mother is pretending to be calm. This is deeply concerning.

Unknown Armstrong Cousin #4: DID YOU BITE THE PRINCE???

Ravenstone Internal Group Chat (43 participants): active.

Liam’s soul attempted to separate from his body.

Mara made a strangled noise. "Forty-three participants?"

Stanford watched the screen with the composed expression of a man observing a military collapse from a safe distance.

Another message appeared.

Henry Ravenwood: Liam, your mother has reorganized three meetings and sharpened her tone. Please answer her before Mirelle escalates further.

Liam closed his eyes.

Alexander looked genuinely alarmed now. "Sharpened her tone?"

Mara nodded solemnly. "That means the family has entered strategic operations."

The terminal chimed again.

Aunt Mirelle Armstrong: Since you are clearly alive enough to ignore us professionally, answer the family channel.

Another message slid in beneath it immediately.

Enia Ravenwood: Liam. Darling. I know you are reading these.

Liam whispered, horrified, "Why is that worse than yelling?"

"Because she’s calm," Mara answered at once.

Stanford inclined his head slightly. "Lady Enia appears efficient."

"Efficient?" Mara echoed. "Stanford, she once dismantled a regional board because someone insulted Liam’s research ethics during a dinner party."

Stanford blinked, impressed. "I suddenly understand him better."

The group chat refreshed again.

Cousin Elias Ravenstone: Is he pretty in person, or is that political propaganda?

Aunt Mirelle Armstrong: Elias, focus.

Uncle Darius Armstrong: Wait, did the bond complete?

Three people started typing simultaneously.

Liam made a sound usually associated with industrial accidents.

Mara looked at him with deep sympathy. "You should probably answer before they start inviting Agaron to dinner."

Liam closed his eyes.