Chapter 368: Family History

Chapter 368: Chapter 368: Family History

Liam had expected the imperial palace of Agaron to be impressive.

He had not expected Cecil to describe half of it as a collection of architectural inconveniences that the imperial family had been too sentimental to demolish.

"That staircase," Cecil explained, gesturing toward a magnificent flight of white marble steps beneath an enormous crystal chandelier, "has been responsible for three broken ankles and an incident involving Orfeo that Father refuses to discuss."

Liam examined the staircase.

"What happened to Orfeo?"

"He was twelve and convinced he could fly."

"That sounds concerning."

"It was considerably more concerning for the chandelier."

Michel, who had been walking beside Liam with one hand wrapped around his fingers, looked up.

"Orfeo broke the chandelier?"

"Orfeo has broken several things," Cecil replied. "We are discussing the chandelier because you are not supposed to know about the others."

Ophelia immediately became interested.

"What others?"

Cecil smiled.

"Exactly."

Liam laughed as they continued along the gallery.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating the polished marble floors and the crimson carpets embroidered with the imperial wolf. Portraits occupied the walls between narrow columns of dark stone, while ceremonial weapons and artifacts from different periods of Agaronian history were displayed beneath protective enchantments.

The palace was considerably older than Liam had expected.

Unlike Nuria, which had disappeared behind the Gate for seventy-seven years, Agaron had continued changing with the world around it. Some sections retained their original stonework, while others had been rebuilt to accommodate modern technology without disturbing the historical architecture.

Cecil stopped before a particularly large painting depicting an imposing man with golden eyes.

Liam recognized him immediately.

"Goliath."

Cecil followed his gaze.

"Ah. That one."

The portrait occupied nearly the entire wall between two columns, its elaborate gold frame bearing the same dragon motifs Liam had seen throughout the oldest sections of Nuria’s imperial palace.

Goliath stood beside a black throne, one hand resting against its carved arm while heavy imperial robes fell around his broad frame. His golden-blond hair had been arranged neatly behind his shoulders, and his expression carried the particular combination of arrogance and impatience Liam had become intimately familiar with over the past year.

The resemblance was almost offensive.

Cecil smiled and stepped closer to the portrait.

"This was brought out of the restricted archives after Nuria reopened. Mother insisted it should be displayed properly instead of remaining in storage."

Liam looked at him.

"Did you know who he was before the Gate opened?"

"We knew Arik was Goliath’s reincarnation. Mother and Father never made a secret of that within the family, although they were considerably more careful about what information reached people outside it."

Cecil folded his arms.

"Knowing that your older brother carries the soul of an ancient sovereign is one thing. Discovering that the same sovereign left an entire empire waiting for him is considerably more inconvenient."

"Especially when you inherit his previous job."

"Exactly."

Liam laughed.

Michel tugged gently at his hand.

"Why does he look like Arik?"

Liam looked down.

The boy’s dark brown eyes moved between him and the portrait with genuine curiosity.

"Because Arik was him a very long time ago."

Michel frowned.

"Before he was a baby?"

"Yes."

Ophelia approached the painting and studied it with considerably more suspicion.

"He doesn’t look like Arik."

Cecil raised an eyebrow.

"He looks almost exactly like him."

"No. Arik smiles more."

Liam went quiet.

Then he smiled.

"You are right."

Cecil glanced toward him, apparently finding something interesting in the answer, but chose not to comment.

Instead, he moved toward the next portrait.

"This one is considerably more embarrassing."

Liam followed him, Michel still holding his hand while Ophelia hurried ahead to examine the painting.

A much younger Damian stood beside Gabriel in the imperial gardens.

Damian wore formal black and crimson, his golden eyes unmistakable beneath dark hair that fell slightly across his forehead. Gabriel stood beside him in a long gold-embroidered coat, one hand resting against Damian’s arm while his dark brown eyes regarded the painter with an expression that suggested he would have preferred to be doing almost anything else.

Liam tilted his head.

"Your father looks younger than Arik."

"He was."

"How old?"

"Thirty-two, I believe. Mother was younger."

Ophelia pointed at Damian.

"Father looks angry."

Cecil nodded.

"He probably was. Mother said that sitting for portraits was one of the few imperial obligations Father considered a personal insult."

Liam leaned closer to examine the painting.

Gabriel’s expression was considerably more interesting.

"He looks like he is about to laugh."

"Mother usually was."

"Probably because of Damian."

"Almost certainly."

Cecil continued along the gallery, stopping before a smaller collection of family portraits that had clearly been added over the years rather than commissioned as part of the original imperial collection.

Liam recognized Arik immediately.

He looked around seventeen in the first painting, dressed in the black and crimson uniform of an Agaronian military academy, his expression severe enough that Liam suspected the artist had been instructed not to capture whatever trouble he had actually been preparing.

Beside him stood a younger Cecil.

Liam stared.

"Oh, that is wonderful."

Cecil followed his gaze.

Then closed his eyes.

"Mother insisted."

"You look adorable."

"I was eleven."

"And you are holding Arik’s sleeve."

"I was making certain he did not leave before the portrait was finished."

Liam studied the painting again.

Young Cecil looked deeply offended, while Arik’s hand rested on his brother’s head with the casual possessiveness Liam now recognized as a family trait.

"I need a copy."

"No."

"I am your Empress Consort."

"Of another country."

"I am also your brother-in-law."

"That does not grant you archive privileges."

Liam smiled sweetly.

"Gabriel likes me."

Cecil stared at him.

Then sighed.

"I will have a copy sent to your rooms."

"Thank you."

Ophelia had already moved on to another portrait, where a younger Orfeo stood between the twins, who were still small enough to be carried.

She looked back at Cecil.

"Where is my picture?"

"Your portrait is in the eastern gallery."

"Can we go?"

"We are going there next."

Michel released Liam’s hand and hurried after his sister when she announced that she wanted to show him the painting where Arik was holding both of them.

Liam watched them disappear around the corner, accompanied by a nearby attendant.

For a moment, the gallery became quiet.

Cecil looked back toward Goliath’s portrait.

"You know, I was worried about meeting you."

Liam raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because Arik changed so much after the Gate. Mother and Father visited Nuria, but I only saw him through calls, and he seemed... different."

"He is."

"I know."

Cecil turned toward him.

"But he was laughing at lunch yesterday. Properly laughing. I haven’t heard him do that in a very long time."

Liam looked toward the portrait.

Goliath’s painted eyes remained fixed on the gallery, distant and severe.

"He had a difficult few months."

"That is a spectacular understatement."

"Yes."

Liam smiled faintly.

"But I think he is finally ready to enjoy being Arik again."

Footsteps sounded behind them.

"Was I ever anything else?"

Liam turned.

Arik stood at the entrance to the gallery, having apparently escaped whatever conversation Damian had detained him for earlier. His black shirt was open at the throat, and the long imperial coat he had worn during their arrival was folded over one arm.

He glanced from Liam to Cecil.

Then toward the portrait.

His expression flattened.

"What did you show him?"

Cecil smiled.

"Your academy portrait."

Arik closed his eyes.

Liam laughed.

"I requested a copy."

"No."

"Cecil already agreed."

Arik looked at his brother.

Cecil spread his hands.

"He used Mother against me."

"That is a family technique. You should have been prepared."

Liam crossed the gallery toward his husband, who immediately slipped an arm around his waist.

Behind them, Goliath continued watching from his enormous golden frame.

Liam did not look back.

The man holding him was considerably more interesting.