Charles POV

“Every empire needs an heir willing or not.”

The hum of the jet is steady, predictable and obedient.

Just the way I like it.

Christian sits across from me, legs swinging, his small hands wrapped around a cup of cocoa one of the attendants prepared.

The drink’s already going cold, untouched. His eyes are rimmed with sleep.

The sedative still lingers in his system, keeping him calm, compliant.

“Are we going far, Grandpa?” he asks finally, voice small, uncertain.

I smile. ...