Page 469 of Black Reign

Pierre called it “balancing the user experience.”

He was four.

I walk farther into the study.

“What is this one?”

Pierre doesn't look away from the monitor.

“Espionage.”

I stop.

Xavier lowers his tablet.

“No.”

Pierre glances back.

“It has dragons.”

Xavier considers.

“Fine.”

I look between them.

“That was your concern?”

“Genre matters.”

“Not espionage?”

“He's a Blackwell.”

I close my eyes.

“We've created a baby genius.”

Xavier shrugs.

“I noticed.”

“We should be worried.”

“Probably.”

Pierre begins humming under his breath while several windows move across the screen.

I watch for another moment.

“Your father spoils him.”

Xavier's mouth twitches.

“That's an understatement.”

Blackwell Senior has spent the past five years transforming from terrifying international-security magnate into a man who keeps emergency macarons in his desk because his grandson once mentioned liking pistachio.