They had barely returned to the reception hall when Harry approached them.
George was beside him, following so closely that he seemed almost to be copying his father's movements. Whenever Harry stopped to greet someone, George stopped too. Whenever his father moved on, the boy hurried to keep up, careful not to fall behind.
Harry greeted Annabella first, placing a hand lightly against her back.
"There you are. I was beginning to wonder where you had disappeared to."
"I needed a little air."
His gaze shifted to Callen.
"Lord Redington. I hope you're enjoying the celebration."
Callen inclined his head.
"Immensely, Your Grace. It has been quite an eventful day."
"Indeed. George— I mean Raegar— has given us much to celebrate."
"He certainly has."
Callen's eyes briefly settled on the boy before returning to Harry.
"I imagine you must be particularly pleased. Not every father gets to witness his son demonstrate such extraordinary power."
Harry smiled.
"I am very proud of him."
"You should be."
There was something in Callen's delivery that made the words sound almost like a challenge.
Annabella watched him closely.
Harry, however, maintained his pleasant expression.
"I trust the ceremony has given you a better understanding of our traditions."
"A great deal better, actually. Your customs are fascinating. Particularly the succession arrangements. They leave very little room for ambiguity."
Harry's smile tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Our traditions have served Lucreus for generations."
"I'm sure they have. Though traditions are only as reassuring as the people entrusted with upholding them."
A brief silence followed.
Annabella looked between the two men, her attention sharpening.
Harry gave a small laugh.
"A rather interesting observation coming from a Sagan representative."
"I would hope so. It would be embarrassing to travel all this way and have nothing interesting to say."
Callen's expression remained perfectly pleasant.
Harry studied him for a moment.
"And what brings you here, Lord Redington? Beyond the pleasure of witnessing my son's naming, of course."
"I was invited, Your Grace."
Callen inclined his head again.
Annabella took a slow sip of wine. Callen was doing an excellent job of remaining civil. Almost too excellent. There was something deliberately irritating about the way he agreed with Harry, as though every courteous response concealed a second meaning.
Harry seemed to be having difficulty deciding whether Callen was insulting him or simply taking his politeness to an extraordinary degree.
Then a small voice interrupted them.
"Lord Redington!"
George had stepped out from beside his father. His excitement was written all over his face, though he seemed to remember himself at the last moment and clasped his hands neatly in front of him.
Callen's expression changed.
The tension disappeared from his face. He bent his knees until he was almost level with the boy.
"Well, well. If it isn't my favourite little ruffian."
George's mouth fell open.
"I'm not a ruffian!"
Callen tilted his head.
"No? That's disappointing. I thought we'd established that rather nicely the last time we met."
George glanced towards Harry, then back at him.
"I believe you were the ruffian, actually."
Callen put a hand to his chest.
"Me? What a terrible accusation. And on such an important day."
"I didn't mean—" George stopped, reconsidered, and tried again. "I mean, my lord, I wouldn't dream of accusing you of anything."
Callen stared at him for a moment.
Then his grin widened.
"Oh, this is going to be fun."
George tried not to smile.
"It's a pleasure to see you again."
"Goodness. What happened to you?"
"What?"
"Last time you were quite happy to tell me exactly what you thought of me. Now you're calling me, my lord. Have I become respectable overnight?"
George pressed his lips together.
"I have to behave now."
"Ah." Callen nodded gravely. "The naming ceremony. A dreadful business, clearly. They give you a new name and take away all your personality."
George let out a small laugh.
"They don't!"
"Then I suggest you demand a refund."
George giggled, then immediately straightened when he remembered his father's presence.
Callen noticed.
"There it is again. You keep doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Trying to swallow your smile. It's a very unpleasant habit. I wouldn't recommend it."
George looked down at his shoes.
"I'm supposed to be polite."
"You can be polite and still tell the truth."
"That's what I did last time my little friend."
"Precisely. And look how well that went for me, George said."
George's smile broke through.
While Callen and George were occupied, Harry turned slightly towards Annabella.
"Did you invite him?"
Annabella looked at him.
"Callen?"
"Who else?"
She took another sip of wine.
"Yes."
Harry's eyes returned to Callen, who was now exchanging an exaggeratedly solemn handshake with George.
"And why?"
Annabella glanced at the two of them.
"He's George's friend."
Harry looked at her as though she had just said something particularly absurd.
"His friend?"
"Yes, Harry. That's generally what we call someone a child enjoys spending time with."
Harry's jaw shifted.
"He is teaching the boy to be rude."
Annabella's eyes followed Callen as he leaned towards George and said something that made the boy bite down on his lower lip to suppress a laugh.
"I think he's teaching him to have a little fun."
"By encouraging him to speak disrespectfully?"
"I think there's a difference between being disrespectful and having a personality."
Harry gave her a pointed look.
"You find this amusing?"
"A little."
She didn't bother hiding her smile.
"Besides, George seems rather fond of him."
Across from them, Callen reached for a small, carefully wrapped box he had been carrying.
"I brought you something, by the way."
George's attention immediately shifted to it.
"For me?"
"No, for the other newly named heir standing behind you. Of course it's for you."
George gave him a look.
"There isn't another one."
Callen paused.
"Well, that's a relief. I'd hate to have brought the wrong present."
George reached for the box, but Callen held on to it for another moment.
"Now, before I give this to you, I have a question."
George looked suspicious.
"What question?"
"Are you still under the impression that I'm a bad adult?"
George glanced at Harry.
Then at the box.
Then back at Callen.
"I don't think I'm allowed to answer that."
Callen's face lit up.
"Splendid. You've become a politician."
George snorted.
"I'm not—"
He caught himself.
"I mean, no, my lord. I'm not."
"Oh, don't apologise. It was a compliment."
Callen finally handed him the box.
"Go on. Open it."
George carefully removed the wrapping and lifted the lid.
Inside was a beautifully bound book. Its cover was dark leather, with delicate silver lettering along the spine. George ran his fingers over it before opening the front cover.
A handwritten inscription appeared on the first page.
To George, whatever your new name is, Winstor.
May your curiosity always be greater than your fear, and your wisdom greater than your power.
With my best wishes, Bad Adult.
George stared at it.
Then he looked up.
"So you can write?"
Callen burst out laughing.
"There he is!"
George grinned, pleased with himself.
Callen pointed towards the book.
"This is your first book of spells. I thought you might enjoy having a copy."
George carefully turned another page. There were diagrams, handwritten explanations, and illustrations of different spell formations.
"You made all of this?"
"Every word. Every diagram. Even the dreadful handwriting. I did study magic even though I can not use it"
"It's beautiful."
"It is now yours."
Callen smiled.
"Now that you have a name, Raegar, you can own something like this and carry it to your future school. I thought it might be useful. Just don't let your teachers catch you practising anything you haven't been taught yet."
George looked up, his excitement almost impossible to contain.
"I wouldn't do that."
Callen raised an eyebrow.
"Of course not."
"I wouldn't!"
"I believe you. You have a very trustworthy face."
George narrowed his eyes.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Would I?"
George opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Callen waited.
"Go on."
"Nothing."
"That looked like something."
George glanced towards Harry, who was still speaking quietly to Annabella, though his attention seemed to have wandered towards them.
The boy took a breath.
"I don't think it's appropriate to insult a guest."
Callen looked genuinely impressed.
"No, no. Quite right."
He nodded towards the book.
"But you may be interested to know that the first spell in there is a rather useful one for dealing with irritating people."
George's eyes lit up.
"Really?"
"No."
George stared at him.
Callen broke into a grin.
"You should have seen your face."
George let out an outraged little laugh.
"That's not funny!"
"I thought it was."
"Well, I didn't."
"A devastating review. I'll have to reconsider my career."
George was fighting a losing battle with his smile.
"You're very..."
He stopped.
Callen leaned a little closer.
"Very what?"
George pressed his lips together.
"Very difficult."
"Difficult?"
"Yes."
"That's a remarkably polite way of putting it. I was expecting something much worse."
George's eyes flicked towards Harry again.
"I was going to say something else."
Callen looked delighted.
"I know."
"But I won't."
"How disciplined."
"Because I'm an heir now."
Callen nodded solemnly.
"Of course. An heir must be dignified, composed, and entirely incapable of telling an irritating adult what he thinks of him."
George gave him a look.
"You're a HUGE ASS."
Callen's eyebrows shot up.
"There he is!"
George immediately covered his mouth.
"How can you be that old and that annoying."
Callen laughed so hard that he had to look away.
" That was the finest thing I've heard all afternoon."
George was laughing now too, though he kept trying to stop himself.
Harry finally turned fully towards them.
"George."
The boy's smile vanished. He lowered the book slightly and stood straight.
"Yes, Father?"
"Compose yourself. You are an heir now. You must learn to conduct yourself accordingly."
"Yes, Father."
Callen rose, brushing an invisible crease from his sleeve.
"Quite right, Your Grace. Wouldn't want him getting carried away with the dangerous business of enjoying himself."
Harry's expression cooled.
"I would prefer he learned to distinguish between amusement and disrespect."
"An admirable ambition."
Callen glanced down at George.
"Though I suspect he already knows the difference. He seems to be having a great deal of trouble deciding which one I'm encouraging."
George's lips twitched.
Harry noticed.
"You are encouraging him to be rude."
"Am I?"
Callen looked almost surprised.
"I thought I was encouraging him to be honest. There's a rather important distinction."
"He is a child."
"Yes. I had noticed."
Annabella had to raise her glass to hide her smile.
Harry turned to her.
Annabella met his eyes.
Harry's gaze moved back to Callen.
"You seem to have a peculiar understanding of friendship."
Annabella shrugged lightly.
"I think you have a peculiar understanding of childhood."
For a moment, Harry said nothing.
Callen, meanwhile, had turned his attention back to George.
"Now, Raegar. One last piece of advice."
George looked up cautiously.
"What?"
"Never trust an adult who tells you he has never been a child. He's either lying or terribly boring."
George nodded very seriously.
"I don't think you're boring."
Callen smiled.
"How kind."
George hesitated.
"Just..."
Callen waited.
"A little questionable."
Callen placed a hand over his heart.
"A little? My reputation is getting lost."
George giggled.
Harry placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Come. There are other guests you must greet."
George looked down at his book, then back at Callen.
"Thank you, Lord Redington."
Callen tilted his head.
"Lord Redington? After all we've been through?"
George tried not to smile.
"Thank you, Callen."
"Much better."
Harry guided him away.
George followed, holding the book carefully against his chest. He managed a few steps before looking back over his shoulder.
Callen gave him a little wave.
George waved back, then quickly faced forward again when he noticed his father's attention.
Callen watched them go.
"A charming young man," he remarked.
Annabella turned to him, smiling.
"You seem to have made quite an impression."
"I hope so. It would be a shame to have wasted all that effort."
"What effort?"
"Getting him to insult me. He's very good at it, but terribly concerned about my feelings."
Annabella laughed.
"I think he's more concerned about his father's."
Callen glanced towards Harry, who was already introducing George to another group of guests.
"A sensible precaution."
"You are aware that you've just given him a book full of spells and encouraged him to be insolent?"
"I gave him a book full of spells. The insolence was already there."
Annabella raised an eyebrow.
"And you merely brought it out?"
"I like to think of myself as an educator."
She laughed again.
Across the room, George was listening to an elderly council member. He held his new book against his side, nodding politely. But every so often his eyes wandered towards Callen, and the boy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
Harry noticed and gently touched his shoulder, reminding him to pay attention.
Callen followed the exchange.
His amusement faded a little.
"I don't particularly enjoy watching a child being told to hide his excitement."
Annabella studied him.
"You think he's unhappy?"
"No. I think he's trying very hard to be what everyone expects him to be."
He paused, watching George straighten his posture.
"And he's only just learned how to be himself."
Annabella looked at the boy for a moment.
Then she turned back to Callen.
"Well, perhaps you can teach him a thing or two."
Callen's mouth curved.
"I suspect his father would object to my curriculum."
"I'm sure he would."
"Excellent. When do I start."
Annabella laughed softly, turning her glass between her fingers. Her gaze lingered on Callen a moment longer than she intended.
There was something unexpectedly attractive about a man who could be so thoroughly mischievous and yet so gentle with a child. He hadn't simply humoured George; he'd made the boy feel clever, funny, and free to be himself.
A strange warmth settled in her chest.
God, that was sexy.