Gabriel blinked at him, incredulous. "Are you asking me this after you planned everything and there's less than three weeks until the ceremony?"

Damian's mouth curved, unbothered. "I planned the logistics. The crown, the ether feeds, the security layers. I can't plan you."

Gabriel tilted his head, dry as dust. "That's the first time I've heard you admit to being powerless in anything."

"Not powerless," Damian corrected, golden gaze narrowing with quiet amusement. "Just aware. If you weren't ready, you would have burned this palace to the ground weeks ago. Instead, you sit through council sessions and listen to idiots discuss flower arrangements like it matters to the survival of the Empire."

Gabriel gave him a flat look. "I nearly burned the palace yesterday."

Damian leaned in, close enough that Gabriel could feel the faint scent of clean skin. "And yet you didn't. That's why you'll be Empress."

"And here I thought the bond and our son were enough."

Damian's laugh was quiet, low in his chest, and far too pleased. "Enough for me. Never enough for them." His fingers brushed along Gabriel's jaw, tilting his face just enough to press a kiss there, soft but firm. "The empire doesn't settle for half measures. Neither do I."

Gabriel arched a brow, lips quirking. "So this is less about my readiness and more about your obsession with winning, isn't it?"

"Winning?" Damian echoed, golden gaze catching the morning light like molten metal. "No. Securing. You. The throne. The future. I don't gamble with what's mine."

Gabriel's grip tightened faintly on the baby in his arms, eyes narrowing though his tone remained dry. "Possessive bastard."

Damian smiled without a shred of apology. "Completely."

—

The knock came just as Gabriel was about to hand Arik back into his crib, sharp and timed like the man behind it had been waiting for the exact pause in conversation.

"Enter," Damian said.

The door swung open to reveal Edward, posture crisp, uniform without a wrinkle, and, most shocking of all, a hint of color back in his face. He stepped inside like he had never left, depositing a folder on the table with the same authority he'd use to slap misbehaving cadets into line.

"My leave is finished," Edward announced, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had not only rested but also discovered a streak of smug vindication. "The palace didn't burn down without me, which is a miracle, but judging by the chaos in these reports, you two have clearly been testing the gods' patience. Again."

Gabriel's mouth curved, sharp as a knife. "You're in a better mood. Sunlight and books suit you."

Edward gave him a look that was half a glare, half amusement. "Don't sound so surprised. I'm capable of enjoying life without babysitting you both, though the empire doesn't seem capable of surviving it." His gaze flicked to Damian. "Training every morning, statecraft every afternoon, and a coronation looming. And you…" He turned back to Gabriel. "planning to purge half the nobility by sheer force of penmanship. If I'd stayed away one more week, I'd be retiring to a grave instead of a desk."

Damian's lips curved, golden eyes glinting with private amusement. "You're welcome to retire. I'll even build you a villa outside the capital, with a full ether grid and a private library."

Edward snorted. "And leave you two unsupervised? You'd drive the court into revolt within a month. No, thank you." He straightened the folder with a snap. "Now sit, both of you. If I'm back, I'm back, and the work isn't going to critique itself. Someone has to remind the Emperor and his soon-to-be Empress that bureaucracy is not an enemy you can seduce into obedience."

Gabriel smirked, leaning back on the headboard. "Where is my souvenir?"

Edward blinked at him, unimpressed. "Souvenir?"

"Yes," Gabriel said plainly, settling Arik higher against his shoulder. "You disappear for weeks, return looking younger than me, and I don't even get a token of your absence? That's negligence."

Damian chuckled, golden gaze warm. "He has a point."

Edward raised a brow. "You want me to bring you a seashell next time? Maybe a snow globe with a miniature capital inside?"

Gabriel's lips curved. "Something tacky would do. I like proof."

Edward exhaled through his nose, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. "Fine. Next leave, I'll bring you a mug that says World's Most Tolerant Empress."

Gabriel's laughter broke free before he could smother it, sharp and delighted. Damian leaned closer, brushing his mouth against Gabriel's temple, savoring the sound.

"See?" Damian murmured. "He missed us."

"I did not," Edward replied instantly, though the dry snap lacked any bite. He set the file down with a little too much force. "But the palace is still standing, which means you haven't set it ablaze in boredom, and the empire hasn't descended into civil war. I'll admit, I'm almost impressed."

"Almost?" Gabriel drawled.

Edward's gaze softened despite himself. "You've done more in three months than some emperors manage in decades. Don't let it go to your head."

Damian's smirk was sharp, but his tone was quiet, sure. "Too late."

Edward rolled his eyes heavenward, muttering, "Gods help me, they're both insufferable," before dropping into a chair like he'd never left. "Now, if we're finished pretending this is a reunion, hand me those reports. Someone has to point out that you've scheduled three different security briefings at the same hour."

Gabriel's mouth curved slyly. "That wasn't a mistake."

Damian's arm brushed his, lips twitching. "It was strategy."

Edward made a noise that sounded halfway between a groan and a laugh. "Strategy, my ass. Strategy is what you call it when you want to watch half the council scramble like startled hens." He flipped open the top report with the air of a man resuming an old, comfortable argument. "But fine. Keep your chaos. At least it keeps them sharp."

He skimmed a page, then glanced up, expression turning just a shade more deliberate. "Speaking of chaos, your mother has sent word." His gaze slid from Damian to Gabriel. "Specifically for you and for Arik."

Gabriel stilled, one brow lifting. "Crista?"