Astana's eyes flicked down to the screen, and the moment between them dissolved like mist in sunlight.
"Saved by the Emperor," he murmured, his tone dry enough to scrape bone.
Christian tilted his head. "Temporarily. You'll still have to answer me eventually."
Astana didn't dignify that with a response. He was already moving, straightening the cuffs of his jacket with the precision of a man accustomed to deflecting affection with task lists.
"His Majesty wants a full update," he said, stepping back into motion, posture flawless as always. "I'll speak to him in the study. In the meantime, try not to rearrange the diplomatic meetings. Again."
"I rearranged them for morale," Christian called after him. "Mine!"
The door clicked shut behind Astana before he could hear the reply he wasn't going to acknowledge anyway.
