CHAPTER 244: CHAPTER 244: PLAYING NICE (3)

By the time Windstone delivered the report, the apartment wing was already winding down for the night. Outside the tall windows, the city was a scatter of lights against the dark, the hum of distant traffic reduced to nothing by glass and heavy curtains.

Trevor was propped against the headboard in a loose T-shirt, sleeves pushed back, the glow from his tablet painting his face in shifting light. Lucas was stretched out beside him, scrolling idly through his phone, the duvet drawn carelessly over his hips.

"She accepted," Windstone said from the doorway, voice as composed as ever. "Miss Mia will attend the dinner. She has also been informed, accurately, about His Majesty recognizing Lord Christopher as a dominant omega and placing him under his protection."

Trevor’s eyes lifted from the tablet, one brow ticking upward. "Accurately?"

"She asked directly," Windstone replied. "I answered directly. The dinner itself is private, His Majesty has requested only Lord Christopher and Miss Mia. There is no requirement for either of you to attend. In fact," he added, "it was specified that you were not to. The intention, I believe, is to make Lord Christopher more comfortable."

Lucas’s gaze slid to Trevor, one brow arched. "That’s generous of him."

Trevor’s mouth curved faintly. "Generous isn’t the word I’d use."

Windstone continued, unbothered. "Miss Mia’s reaction was... enthusiasm. She requested, and I quote, a ’front-row seat.’"

Trevor set the tablet aside, a small, crooked smile playing at his mouth. "Honestly... not bad. I would have the same reaction."

Lucas shifted against the pillows, smirking. "So she’ll give him a show, and you’ll stay here looking like trouble in a T-shirt."

"I don’t plan to interfere with whatever he’s planning," Trevor said, voice steady, eyes still on him. "It’s Sirius and Caelan’s job to find the political equilibrium between the Dax and Malek families. I’m not going to hand them another complication just because I can’t keep my nose out of it."

Lucas tilted his head, the faintest glint of curiosity in his gaze. "That’s very... restrained of you."

Trevor’s mouth curved, not in humor but in the kind of smile that suggested restraint was a matter of choice, not capability. "Restraint is easy when I know exactly what he’s doing. This isn’t about diplomacy... it’s about making Christopher comfortable enough to stay at his table. And if that means bringing Mia in to soften the edges, then so be it."

Lucas’s brows lifted slightly. "You think Christopher will fall for that?"

"I think," Trevor said, leaning back into the headboard, "that Dax isn’t trying to make him fall for anything. He’s trying to make him stop looking for a way out."

He turned the page on his tablet, resuming whatever he’d been reading before Windstone interrupted. "Now, let’s talk about something else. Feels like Dax is taking too much of our time."

"Well..." Lucas closed his phone and set it on the nightstand, shifting so he was angled toward him. "What do you want to talk about?"

Trevor made a thoughtful sound. "Hmmm... Cressida sent me a message earlier. Caelan insists on you being formally presented at the palace as Duchess of Fitzgeralt and heir to the D’Argente house." His gaze flicked over, measuring the reaction. "He, at least, was convinced by Sirius and Lucius to leave the fatherhood... unaddressed."

Lucas’s mouth curved slightly, though there was no warmth in it. "Unaddressed," he repeated, as if tasting the word. "Which means it’s only a matter of time before someone tries to address it for him."

"Probably," Trevor agreed, his tone casual but his eyes still sharp on Lucas. "But until then, you get the pretty titles without the parade of petitions."

"Until then," Lucas echoed, leaning back against the headboard beside him, "we play nice."

Trevor’s smirk returned. "My favorite kind of lie."

Trevor set the tablet aside completely now, one arm draping over the back of the headboard. "Which reminds me, we’ll have to return to the capital in two weeks. Cressida wants time to coordinate the presentation, and you’ll need to deal with the preparations for our first official appearance as united houses."

Lucas’s brow lifted, a hint of dry amusement in his expression. "Ah, the grand debut of Fitzgeralt and D’Argente. Should I practice my smile or my aim?"

"Both," Trevor said without hesitation. "It’ll be a room full of people who want to either shake your hand or measure it for shackles. Best to keep them guessing."

Lucas’s smirk deepened. "And what will you be doing while I keep them guessing?"

Trevor leaned in just enough for his voice to drop. "Looking like trouble in a suit... and making sure no one gets close enough to test your aim."

Lucas huffed out a quiet laugh, the kind that curled at the edges but didn’t quite reach his eyes. "So, business as usual."

"Exactly," Trevor said, settling back against the headboard, the lamplight catching the faint, lazy curve of his mouth. "Except this time there will be more cameras, more questions, and at least one person waiting to trip you on the carpet just to see if you bleed like the rest of them."

Lucas tilted his head, as though considering it. "Sounds like fun. And besides... after the training Cressida and Serathine put me through before our public wedding, I can handle anyone. Now, after the event? I’m practically untouchable."

Trevor’s gaze lingered, sharp enough to make the air between them feel heavier. "That’s the difference between you and them. You’ll call it fun. They’ll call it a weakness."

The city lights beyond the curtains flickered faintly as a car passed below, the hum of the street returning to silence. Lucas shifted closer, stealing one of the pillows from Trevor’s side without asking. "Now that Dax found his omega and we are officially married, maybe people will stop talking about me having a harem of powerful men."

Trevor’s brows rose, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh, they’ll never stop. They’ll just update the roster and pretend it was always meant to be a historical record."

Lucas smirked. "So I should expect commemorative editions? Glossy covers?"

"Special features," Trevor said dryly. "Pull-out charts mapping your alleged conquests, complete with arrows and scandalous footnotes. I give it a week before someone adds a conspiracy thread claiming you’re secretly running the empire through bedroom diplomacy."

Lucas leaned back against the headboard, expression unreadable except for the faint glint of mischief. "If I were, I’d be doing a better job of it than half the people who actually try."

Trevor’s smile turned slowly. "And that’s why they’ll keep talking."