King Liam—POV
I shrugged off my blazer and rolled up my shirt sleeves. My mind couldn't stop replaying the way Esme and Edward stood together. It was painfully clear: Edward has feelings for her. And for some reason, that realization infuriated me. I stared blankly at the papers on my desk.
"Your Majesty, you need to sign these," Rower said, adjusting his glasses with a nervous glance in my direction.
I kept my eyes on the document—festival reports. Everything had gone smoothly, no incidents after the attack. It had all been targeted—just Esme. Not a rebellion. Not a declaration of war. Just Esme.
