CHAPTER 430: CHAPTER 424: GOSSIP UPDATE

Damian blinked slowly, like a man faced with the possibility of war before caffeine. "What if I refuse?"

Edward, who had been arranging the imperial clothes for the day, didn’t even pause. "Your Majesty, I appreciate humor in the morning, but we both know your sense of duty wakes faster than your body. You’ll be ready."

Damian’s mouth curved faintly. He reached for the robe Edward held out, rising with a grace that made it seem like the question had never truly been in doubt.

In the bed, Gabriel mumbled, voice muffled by a pillow, "Don’t even joke about me being dragged to court. I’m on leave."

Edward’s eyes flicked over. "Yes. And no one is contesting that, Your Grace. I believe it would take military force to extract you from the child."

Gabriel cracked one eye open. Arik was curled on his chest, thumb in his mouth, perfectly at peace. "Correct. Let the record show I would bite."

"You were gone a week," Damian said, voice low as he tied the robe. "He hasn’t forgiven you for it."

"And neither have I," Gabriel muttered, one hand instinctively stroking over the baby’s soft hair. "He won’t even let the nannies near him. Every time I try to set him down, he cries like I’m banishing him."

Damian looked at them both for a long second, his mate, his son, and the unspoken weight of what it meant to have them safe, here, warm, and unwilling to leave each other’s orbit.

"You’re not being summoned," he said simply. "Stay in bed. Stay with him."

Gabriel didn’t argue. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to.

—

Gabriel didn’t fall back asleep, not really. Arik stirred every few minutes, just enough to nuzzle closer, to remind him that he was still owed a week’s worth of presence and heartbeat and warmth. Ten weeks old, and somehow capable of emotional blackmail. Gabriel didn’t mind. Not this time. He stayed right there, half-drowsing, half-reading through intel reports on his ether tablet with one arm curled protectively around the baby’s back.

Arik cooed occasionally, little hiccuping sounds that punctuated the silence like punctuation marks between updates from the outer provinces and technical breakdowns of ether distortion patterns in the north. His fingers, no longer tiny fists, were curled around the edge of Gabriel’s collar like it was the only anchor he trusted.

By the time the second knock came, polite but with too much intent to be casual, Gabriel was already expecting them.

The door opened and Alexandra swept in with all the authority of a woman who didn’t care what rank her brother had married into. Irina followed close behind, a little wide-eyed but smiling, a ribbon the color of mint tucked behind one ear and a bag of something clutched in her hands.

"You’re alive," Alexandra said flatly, arms crossed as she took in the sight of Gabriel on the couch in his soft morning robe, Arik dozing on his chest, tablet glowing beside him. "Do you have any idea how dramatic it is to vanish for a week and say nothing?"

Irina closed the door quietly behind them, then moved to Gabriel’s other side, peering at the baby. "He’s so little."

Gabriel sighed and shifted just enough to glance at his sister. "I didn’t vanish. I was with Damian."

"In a shard space," Alexandra added pointedly. "Max told me that much."

Gabriel’s brows arched. "Then you already know more than the public record."

"We’re not the public." Alexandra sat, smoothing her skirts and eyeing him. "But we get the nuances and we are here to keep you updated with the gossip."

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed faintly with amusement. "Updated or ambushed?"

"Nuance," Alexandra replied sweetly, crossing her legs with imperial-level poise. "And civic duty. You’ve been missing for a week. You don’t get to fall off the edge of the Empire and not be briefed on who’s been flirting with whom, who cried at court, and which old lord mistook a vision of Lady Serathine’s granddaughter for a divine sign and proposed with his heirloom signet ring."

Gabriel blinked. "That actually happened?"

Irina nodded solemnly. "She said yes. She thought it was a dare."

Gabriel groaned into his hand. Arik chose that moment to yawn dramatically and thump his tiny fist against his father’s chest.

"Exactly," Gabriel muttered to the infant. "Sanity is not a requirement for nobility."

Alexandra leaned in. "Also, Prince Christian may have been seen in the gardens with a very familiar beta who used to avoid palace events entirely."

Gabriel raised a brow. "Astana?"

Alexandra beamed. "They think they’re subtle. They’re wrong."

"Christian always did have terrible taste in hiding places," Gabriel mused, brushing a thumb across Arik’s cheek as the baby blinked sleepily at him, still content to be in his arms and nowhere else.

Irina leaned forward now, as if sharing something too delicious for the public archives. "Also, speaking of people failing at subtlety, Grigoris formally proposed to Rafael."

Gabriel blinked. "He did what?"

Irina nodded, eyes wide. "He sent the contract. The marriage contract. To House Rosenroth. Signed. Sealed. No warning."

Gabriel paused mid-burp, glancing down at the blissfully oblivious Arik, then back up. "He didn’t even ask Rafael?"

Alexandra looked vaguely scandalized. "Didn’t say a word. Just bypassed every social formality and filed the document like it was a trade agreement. Rafael only found out after his mother called him in the middle of brunch."

"With three cousins listening on speaker," Irina added, nearly breathless with glee.

Gabriel exhaled sharply. "I stand corrected. That’s not bold. That’s suicidal."

"Oh, it gets better," Alexandra said. "Rafael didn’t answer. Didn’t scream. Just stood up, left the table, and within twenty minutes had scheduled a private fitting with Gloria."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "Gloria? The Gloria we know?"

Alexandra nodded, smug. "Gloria the scandal tailor. She cleared her whole afternoon. Rumor is Rafael ordered something so sharp it could qualify as a diplomatic incident."

"He said," Irina whispered, hands nearly vibrating with excitement, "that if Grigoris wants a contract without consent, he can have the privilege of seeing what he’s missed. Collarbone, chest, barely legal by court standards. And a necklace fine enough to get every alpha’s attention to his neckline."

Gabriel let out a low whistle, shifting Arik slightly as the baby began to drool on his robe. "That’s not fashion. That’s war."

Alexandra smirked. "It’s both. He plans to arrive late, descend the stairs alone, and pretend not to notice the effect. You know. The full ’vengeful siren’ strategy."

"He learned that from me too," Gabriel muttered, not even pretending to sound disapproving. "I only hope Rafael will survive the consequences; Grigoris would lose his mind and that man is dangerously calm."