CHAPTER 436: CHAPTER 436: NOT THE ONLY ONE ANYMORE

The nursery was quiet now.

Lucas stood near the crib, one hand resting lightly on the frame as Sebastian curled sleepily in the center, still clutching a soft blanket like it owed him rent. The overhead light had been dimmed to a gentle amber glow, warm enough to soften the shadows but not harsh enough to wake the baby.

Trevor watched from the doorway for a few seconds before stepping closer, his steps quiet against the polished floor.

"He looks like you when he’s annoyed," Trevor murmured, reaching past Lucas to adjust the edge of the blanket.

Lucas arched a brow. "He’s asleep."

"Exactly," Trevor said dryly. "Just like you when someone calls before nine."

Lucas rolled his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders eased a fraction. The weight of what he’d done was still sitting somewhere in his chest, real but not suffocating.

Not anymore.

He looked over at Trevor, his voice quieter now. "It’s going to be a mess. People are going to push back. Hide their contracts. Delay enforcement. Try to loophole it through offshore filings."

"They can try," Trevor said. "But it’s too late. You dropped a mountain on them, Lucas. The rest is just gravity."

Lucas nodded slowly, then glanced back at Sebastian. "I keep thinking... if he grows up and asks me what I did about it. About the kind of world we gave him."

Trevor was quiet for a moment. "He won’t have to ask."

Lucas looked up.

Trevor’s eyes were steady. "Because the law won’t be buried in some backchannel memo. It’ll be taught. Quoted. Remembered. You didn’t just sign a policy; you ended a system."

Lucas blinked, a little thrown by the simplicity of it.

And the truth.

He reached for Trevor’s hand. Trevor threaded their fingers together, thumb brushing along the top of his knuckles. "Do you want to rest?"

Lucas shook his head. "I want to draft the next phase."

"Of course you do."

Lucas tilted his head, pretending to think. "Unless you bribe me with hot chocolate and a neck rub."

Trevor pretended to sigh. "You drive a hard bargain, Grand Duke."

Lucas smirked. "I learned from the best."

—

Downstairs, the palace systems were already updating the internal protocols. Every department flagged for rights enforcement had received an alert, first in gold, then red. The directive had a thirty-day compliance window, but everyone already knew the real timeline: now.

In a room two floors below, one of the compliance officers looked up from her screen, stunned. "He really did it."

Her colleague, still processing the bulletin, murmured, "He signed his own story into law."

—

Back upstairs, Lucas and Trevor sat together on the long couch in their private suite. Lucas leaned into Trevor’s side, eyes half-lidded as the fire flickered gently in the wall hearth. His tablet rested on the side table, untouched.

"Do you think she would’ve stopped?" Lucas asked suddenly.

Trevor didn’t have to ask who. Lucas was talking only about one person like that, and that was Misty Kilmer.

"No," he said. "But that’s the point. You stopped the next her."

Lucas nodded once. Then exhaled.

"That was just the first step," he said.

Trevor kissed his temple. "Then let’s take the next one together."

And in the cradle across the room, Sebastian shifted, a small sound escaping him as his hand opened, relaxed and unafraid.

"Can we have another child?" Lucas shifted in Trevor’s lap, knees drawn up slightly as he leaned in, resting his forehead against Trevor’s shoulder. For a moment, it looked like he might change his mind. But then he spoke, softly, like he was saying the truth aloud for the first time.

"There was another."

Trevor went still.

Lucas didn’t lift his head. "I remember a child that didn’t get to grow, one from our first life together."

Trevor’s hand moved automatically to the back of Lucas’s neck, grounding him. He waited.

"Our first son," Lucas said, barely above a whisper. "He only lived three months. Benedict..." The name hit the air like something cracked, bitter and sharp. "He did something. I don’t know what exactly. I only remember waking up one day and realizing the entire house was quiet. And it wasn’t supposed to be."

Trevor didn’t speak. He couldn’t; that was one of the first memories that came back to him. He knew what Lucas was talking about and how much it hurt.

Lucas’s breath shook once, then steadied. "I thought for a long time that I must’ve done something wrong. That maybe if I’d been stronger, louder, and less obedient, he would’ve lived. That maybe I deserved it."

Trevor’s grip tightened, arms curling around Lucas like he could hold back time itself.

"You didn’t," he said fiercely. "Lucas. You didn’t deserve any of it."

Lucas finally lifted his head, his eyes glassy but steady. "I know that now. And I know we have Sebastian. But I still think about that child. The one we never got to raise. "

Trevor’s throat worked. "I think about him too."

Lucas searched his face. "I want another child. Not because I want to replace what we lost. I know we can’t. But I want to make space for something new. For someone who gets to grow up in a world we built. One without fear. Without chains."

Trevor exhaled slowly, forehead pressing to Lucas’s. "Then we’ll do it. Together."

Lucas blinked. "You’re sure?"

"I’d give you the whole world if it meant you’d never look like this again," Trevor said. "But another child? That’s easy."

Lucas let out a breath that trembled into something close to a laugh. "It’s not easy. You have no idea how badly I nested the first time."

"I do," Trevor said dryly. "I saw the twelve identical silk blankets you refused to throw away because they were ’emotional support fabric.’"

Lucas flushed. "They were neutral tones. We are royalty."

"You were feral," Trevor corrected. "But I’ll be there for all of it."

Lucas leaned in again, tighter this time. "Thank you."

Trevor smiled into his hair. "Let’s raise hell with two."

And across the room, Sebastian stirred in his crib and let out a faint, sleepy sigh, still their first, still loved beyond measure. But maybe, just maybe, no longer the only one.