Chapter 417: Absolutely Not

Chapter 417: Chapter 417: Absolutely Not

Ayla lasted almost four minutes before reaching for her own tablet.

Liam watched her from across the breakfast table, recognizing the rigid set of her shoulders as the particular type of calm that existed only because anger had not yet decided what shape to take.

Samuel had stopped eating entirely. His abandoned pastry sat on his plate while he scrolled through one of the foreign articles on his communicator, his pale green eyes growing steadily more incredulous.

Arik remained beside Liam, reading everything his staff was forwarding without commenting.

That was probably wise.

Ayla typed Gerard’s name into the search field.

"Perhaps don’t," Liam said.

"I want to see him."

"That will not improve anything."

"I am supposedly marrying the man. I think I’m entitled to know what he looks like."

She opened the first official portrait.

Silence.

Then she enlarged it. Her expression changed.

"No."

Samuel leaned over.

"What?"

Ayla shoved the tablet toward him.

"That man is older than Dad."

Samuel looked at Gerard’s photograph, then at his sister.

"He might actually be."

"Henry has better hair."

Liam covered his mouth.

This was not funny.

Unfortunately, Ayla’s outrage was becoming extremely specific.

She reclaimed the tablet and scrolled through another series of photographs, most of them showing Gerard at diplomatic events in elaborately decorated coats that did nothing to flatter his short, heavy frame.

"This is the king?"

"Yes," Arik said.

Ayla looked personally betrayed by this confirmation.

"He looks like someone’s furious accountant."

Samuel choked.

"Ayla."

"What? I am already being politically married without permission. I am allowed to criticize the groom."

"There is no groom," Liam reminded her.

"I know that."

She dropped the tablet onto the table, then picked it up again almost immediately.

"If he looked like Mezos, I would at least have understood why someone thought I might hesitate before throwing him out."

The breakfast-room door opened.

Mezos walked in beside Severin.

Both men heard her.

Both stopped.

Ayla, too angry to notice the danger, continued.

"Or Severin. Fine. He is nearly two hundred, but at least he looks good."

Severin’s eyebrows rose.

Mezos glanced toward him.

Neither man said a word.

Liam looked down at his coffee because making eye contact with either of them would end him.

Samuel had turned bright red, trying not to laugh.

Ayla finally noticed the silence.

She looked toward the door.

Mezos stood in his black uniform, deep red hair tied neatly at his nape, while Severin wore a dark charcoal coat over his usual formal military clothing.

They were both remarkably expressionless.

Ayla closed her eyes.

"I am having a difficult morning."

Severin inclined his head solemnly.

"We gathered."

Mezos crossed to Arik and placed a tablet beside him without commenting on the fact that Liam’s sister had apparently established a hierarchy of acceptable older men less than ten seconds earlier.

"The first publication originated outside Nuria," Mezos said. "So did the next four."

Arik opened the report.

"Gerard’s?"

"Not directly."

Severin took the empty chair near the end of the table.

"They came from countries carrying significant debt to Gerard’s crown or financial institutions tied to it. Politically neutral toward Nuria, which makes the stories look less coordinated."

Liam’s humor disappeared.

"So he used other countries to make it look organic."

"That is our current assessment."

Samuel frowned at his screen.

"They are adding details now."

Ayla reached for her tablet again.

Liam wished she had not.

The newer articles had gone beyond claiming that Gerard had traveled to Nuria to negotiate a political marriage.

One described the supposed arrangement as a natural consolidation of diplomatic ties. Another claimed Ayla would divide her time between Nuria and Gerard’s kingdom while completing her education. A third speculated about the political value of future children connecting Liam’s family to another royal house.

Ayla stared at that paragraph.

Her face went white before anger flooded back in.

"Oh, that is disgusting."

Liam took the tablet from her.

He read enough to understand.

Then handed it directly to Arik.

Arik’s expression became frighteningly still.

"They are discussing children," Liam said.

"I saw."

Ayla pushed away from the table and began pacing toward the windows, arms folded tightly across herself.

"I haven’t even met him."

"You won’t unless you choose to," Liam said.

"I know. That isn’t the point."

She stopped beside the glass, where snow drifted through the palace gardens beyond.

"They wrote an entire life for me because some angry old man needed leverage."

That silenced everyone.

Mezos’s communicator vibrated.

At nearly the same moment, Liam’s began ringing.

He glanced down.

Mother.

"Of course."

Ayla turned immediately.

"Answer."

Liam accepted the call and opened the larger projection above the table.

Enia appeared first, seated in what looked like the family sitting room back in Wrohan. Henry stood behind the sofa in a sweater with his arms folded, while Aunt Mirelle—Enia’s sister—was pressed close beside her, apparently unwilling to wait for a separate explanation.

Enia looked directly at Liam.

"I know this is nonsense."

Liam exhaled.

"Good morning to you too."

"I said I know it is nonsense. I am calling because half the continent apparently decided my daughter is getting married, and I would like confirmation that nobody there is currently setting a building on fire."

Ayla returned to the table.

"Not yet."

Henry shut his eyes.

Mirelle leaned toward the projection.

"Is that her?"

"I’m here."

Mirelle’s expression sharpened.

"Are you all right?"

Ayla hesitated.

The anger softened around the edges.

"I’m fine. Furious, but fine."

Enia nodded once, visibly relieved.

"We assumed so, but I wanted to hear it from you."

Henry finally spoke.

"How old is Gerard?"

Ayla pointed accusingly toward the tablet.

"Older than you."

Henry frowned.

Mirelle reached for something offscreen, presumably her own communicator.

"How much older?"

"Please do not make that the focus," Liam said.

Ayla ignored him.

"Enough."

Mirelle’s eyebrows climbed.

Henry looked increasingly offended on principle.

Arik’s tablet chimed.

He glanced down while Liam continued reassuring Enia that Ayla was safe, the palace had made no marriage agreement, and Gerard had no authority over any of them.

The message was from Marius.

Arik read it twice.

Mezos noticed.

"What?"

Arik turned the tablet so he could see.

Marius’s message contained only two sentences.

This was not planned.

We need to speak before Gerard makes it worse.

Arik looked toward the snow-covered gardens, then at Ayla pacing beside the breakfast table while Enia and Mirelle tried to determine whether they should come to Nuria personally.

His patience with Gerard, already minimal, disappeared entirely.

"Get Marius here," he told Mezos.

"And Gerard?"

Arik’s gaze returned to the foreign headlines.

"Not yet."

That answer made Severin look at him carefully.

Arik leaned back in his chair.

"If Gerard wants attention badly enough to invent a marriage with my wife’s sister, he can wait while the adults discuss what to do with him."