Arik's gaze lowered.
"No."
The word was quiet, but it cut through the comm line, through the hum of the Vanguard, and through the gold pulse of the Gate still breathing behind them.
Noah did not answer immediately.
That alone said enough.
Liam looked from the projection to Arik.
The prince's face had closed again, not cold this time, but old. He was still handsome and young, but his eyes and expresion was oddly out of place.
"No old staff," Arik repeated. "Not yet."
Noah's voice came through more carefully. "Kamal thought you might say that."
"Kamal knows better than to pretend gathering old ghosts under one roof will end quietly."
"They may help."
"They may also start asking questions I am not ready to answer."
Liam's attention sharpened.
Arik did not look at him.
Noah sighed softly. "Then one person for Amara first."
