The Reborn Sovereign of Ruin, Bound by His Star

Chapter 226: Chapter 226: Conditional Freedom

Permission arrived three hours after breakfast, which meant Marin had either been replaced by a kinder physician or had suffered a head injury.

Liam read the message twice.

Then a third time, because miracles required verification.

Limited laboratory activity approved.

No ether-channel exertion.

No direct contact with unstable artifacts.

No Gate interaction.

Supervision mandatory: His Highness, Lord Mezos, or Stanford.

Duration: two hours maximum.

Violation will result in sedation. — Marin

Liam stared at the last line.

Then looked up at Arik, who was seated across the room with a stack of reports and the expression of a man pretending he had not been watching Liam read every word.

"I have been permitted to work," Liam said.

Arik’s gaze lifted. "You sound suspicious."

"I am suspicious. Marin agreed."

"He wrote six conditions and threatened sedation."

"By Marin’s standards, that is a love letter."

Arik’s mouth curved.

Liam looked back at the message, narrowing his eyes. "Two hours maximum is offensive."

"It is more than twenty minutes."

"That is how tyranny expands. It makes a slightly larger cage and expects gratitude."

"You are grateful."

"I am not."

"You are already planning which shoes to wear."

Liam looked down at himself, then back up. "That is unrelated."

"It is deeply related."

Liam ignored him with dignity and stood. His body objected less than it had the day before, which he considered progress, and Marin would no doubt call it "conditional stability" in a smug report. The monitoring ward at his chest pulsed once, not in warning this time but in acknowledgment.

Traitorous little thing.

"I want to go to the Vanguard," Liam said.

Arik’s expression changed.

The word still carried too much with it. Liam’s project. Liam’s neglected funding. Liam’s team. The work George had starved for, Felix had circled, and half of Wrohan’s dying treasury had been too rotten to support.

"I do not need my channels for that," Liam added before Arik could speak. "The main model is external. I can review calculations, mechanical tolerances, fuel regulation, ether flow mapping, and staff notes without channel use. I do not need to touch anything."

Arik set the report down.

The fact that he did it carefully made Liam more annoyed than if he had refused outright.

"And the Gate?" Arik asked.

"I said Vanguard."

"The Gate is in the same facility."

"Adjacent facility."

"Liam, the Gate is right by the Vanguard. Same room. Around twenty meters away, maximum."

Liam sighed like a man burdened by gods. "I do not have documentation for the Gate. Whatever Felix left behind is useless, and I would rather make sure the people can have at least the Vanguard as a safe source of energy when you and Rex start burning down nobles."

Arik looked at him for a long moment.

The argument waiting in his face changed.

Liam hated when people did that. It meant they had found the reasonable part of what he said and intended to use it against him later.

"The Vanguard is not ready to stabilize the country alone," Arik said.

"No. But it can become part of a decentralized support system for critical sites. Hospitals first. Grid maintenance stations. Water facilities. Emergency shelters. Places that should not depend entirely on state power lines owned, maintained, or sabotaged by people Rex is about to arrest."

Mezos, who had entered at some point with Stanford and the audacity of a silent threat, leaned one shoulder against the door. "That sounds almost like a military infrastructure plan."

"It is an engineering plan," Liam said.

"Those are cousins."

"Distant ones. The military cousin ruins everything with uniforms."

Arik’s mouth moved, but he did not smile fully. His gaze stayed on Liam, sharp with understanding now.

Liam was not asking to work because he was bored.

He was asking because the country was about to bleed, and he wanted at least one machine ready to keep people warm when the leeches screamed.

Arik exhaled. "No channels."

"I do not need them."

"No Gate chamber."

Liam gave him a flat look. "Again, same room."

"Then no crossing the marked line."

"There is a marked line now?"

Mezos lifted his tablet. "There will be."

"Of course there will be."

Stanford said, "There already is, my lord."

Liam turned slowly toward him.

Stanford looked perfectly blank.

"Professional traitor," Liam said.

"Yes, my lord."

Arik rose. "You can review calculations, energy output models, mechanical tolerances, fuel regulation, staff reports, and safety failures. You do not touch the Gate. You do not approach the Gate. You do not stare at the Gate long enough for it to decide you are interesting."

"That last condition is unscientific."

"It is mine."

"That does not improve it."

"It improves compliance."

Liam crossed his arms. "I am the head of the project."

"And you are recovering."

"And engaged, apparently, which has made everyone worse."

Mezos’s mouth curved. "It has clarified command structure."

"It has clarified nothing. I am being managed by a committee of armed pessimists."

"Correct," Arik said.

Liam looked offended that he had not even denied it.

The ward at his chest gave one small blue pulse, not a warning, but presence. A reminder. Marin’s little tyrant, quietly announcing that it too had opinions.

Liam looked down. "Do not start."

Arik’s gaze followed the pulse, and whatever argument still lived in him became iron.

"Two hours."

"Three."

"Two."

"Two and a half."

"Two, and tomorrow we ask Marin again."

Liam paused.

That was unfair. It gave him a future instead of a wall.

He narrowed his eyes. "You have learned negotiation from dangerous people."

"I am engaged to one."

"Flattery is not consent."

"No. But it is accurate."

Mezos tapped his tablet. "Marin’s permission states supervision by His Highness, myself, or Stanford. Since His Highness has decided to personally guard the national engineer from his own curiosity, Stanford and I will prepare the route."

"I do not need a route."

"You do," Stanford said.

"Why?"

"Because if anyone tries to congratulate you, question you, delay you, hand you documents, ask about the engagement, ask about the Gate, or request permission to restart a paused experiment, His Highness may become difficult."

Arik looked at him.

Stanford looked back.

Liam enjoyed, for one brief second, someone else being the problem.

Then Arik said, "Accurate."

Liam closed his eyes. "I hate how cooperative you all are when the topic is me."

"Then behave," Mezos said.

"I always behave."

No one answered.

The silence was offensive.

Liam opened his eyes. "I behave strategically."

"That is worse," Arik said.

"It is more honest."

Arik came closer, stopping just in front of him. His hand lifted, paused, then settled over Liam’s ring. The dark-gold ring on Arik’s own hand caught the room’s ether-light.

"I know why you want to go," he said quietly. "And I will not take the Vanguard from you."

Liam looked up at him.

"But if you use work to punish your body because Wrohan was neglected, I will carry you out of that laboratory in front of your entire staff."

Liam’s expression hardened with embarrassment because Arik had struck too close.

"I am not doing that."

"Good."

"I am not."

"Then we have no problem."

"That is an annoying argument."

"It is a correct one."

Liam looked away first, which was a tactical retreat and not surrender.

"Fine," he said. "Vanguard review. No channels. No Gate. No crossing your theatrical line. No touching anything ancient, glowing, missing, imperial, cursed, or historically inconvenient."

Mezos looked impressed. "That list has range."

"I know my enemies."

Arik’s mouth curved faintly. "And if the Gate reacts?"

Liam’s gaze flicked to him.

"Then I leave," Liam said after a moment.

Arik’s expression softened with relief he did not quite allow to show. "Immediately."

"Yes. Immediately."

Stanford opened the door. "The car is ready."

Liam looked at him. "Already?"

"Doctor Marin anticipated approval."

"Doctor Marin is becoming smug in ways I dislike."

Mezos pushed away from the door. "He also sent a final message."

"No."

Mezos read anyway. "Lord Canmore may work if he remembers that engineering performed from a bed is still preferable to engineering performed from a grave."

Liam stared.

Arik laughed under his breath.