The corridors of the south wing were quiet, the hum of ether conduits low and steady. Gabriel knew the route by heart now; Marin's chambers had become almost an extension of his own schedule, a place Damian insisted he visit as often as reports or council meetings.

The physician's rooms were plain, practical, with neat stacks of medical texts and the faint tang of sterilized ether in the air. Marin looked up as Gabriel entered, rising with the kind of deference that had only grown sharper since Gabriel had taken the title of Empress.

"Your Excellency," Marin greeted, bowing briefly before gesturing him toward the familiar examination chair. "Back again. If I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoy these visits."

Gabriel's mouth curved faintly as he sat, his movements graceful despite the weariness in his frame. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoy lecturing me."

Marin allowed himself the barest huff, setting the ether instruments into place. "That's because you give me reason to. Most patients don't argue with their physician, while half the Empire worries over their health. You, however, consider it a sport."

Gabriel smirked, leaning back as the diagnostic circle warmed to life beneath his skin. "And you're still terrible at winning."

The runes flared, casting pale arcs of light across the room. Marin scanned the readings with practiced precision, his expression as flat as ever, though Gabriel caught the way his shoulders eased by a fraction when the glyphs resolved clearly.

"Consistent," Marin said at last. "Strong vitals. The bond mark is stabilizing your ether flow as expected. And the child…" He adjusted one sigil, eyes narrowing at the finer detail. "…healthy. Developing normally."

Gabriel let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his hand brushing absently across his stomach. "No shards. No poisons. No warlords clawing for rebirth. Just a child."

Marin closed the panel with a soft click. "Just a child," he agreed, though his tone carried its usual dryness. "Though I'll note you still aren't sleeping enough. Or eating properly, if the citrus incident I heard about is true."

Gabriel's brown eyes flicked to him, sharp and amused. "Damian tells you everything, doesn't he?"

"Not everything," Marin replied, arranging his tools with steady hands. "But enough. He doesn't intend to repeat what happened with Arik. Neither do I."

Gabriel's lips curved, faint and genuine despite the sharpness of his gaze. "Careful, Marin. You'll convince me you actually care."

The older omega's mouth twitched, his humor bone-dry. "Don't spread it around, Excellency. I have a reputation to maintain."

Gabriel chuckled, low and amused, tilting his head back against the chair. "At least this time the child will look like me. Arik is already Damian's miniature, with golden eyes, dark hair, and that unshakable glare that makes grown men lose their nerve. I deserve at least one child who carries my features."

Marin glanced at him sidelong, adjusting the diagnostic glyphs back into their resting state. "An heir who looks like you, with your temperament, raised under Damian's protection?" His dry tone carried the faintest trace of amusement. "I should probably start preparing the archives for reports of entire ministries resigning early."

Gabriel's laugh broke out sharper, though the sound softened at the edges. "Let them resign. If the Empire survived Damian, it can survive a child with my eyes."

Marin shook his head, gathering his instruments into neat stacks. "You say that as if Damian doesn't already think the Empire is your eyes."

The words had barely settled when the wards at the door gave a muted pulse, unlocking with practiced ease. Damian stepped inside without waiting for permission, dark coat still sharp from council, golden gaze immediately fixed on Gabriel.

"I do," he said simply, the low timbre of his voice cutting through the room with the certainty of a decree.

Gabriel didn't flinch. He tipped his head lazily toward him, brown eyes gleaming with sharp amusement. "Eavesdropping again, Emperor?"

Damian's mouth curved faintly as he crossed the chamber, his presence pressing into the room like heat. "Hardly. I expected you'd say something worth overhearing." His gaze flicked briefly to Marin, assessing, before settling back on Gabriel with that steady, unshakable intensity. "And as always, I was right."

Marin cleared his throat, stepping back with the kind of professionalism that came from years of surviving sharp tongues and sharper tempers. "The checkup is finished. Everything is progressing well." He paused just long enough to add, bone-dry, "Though I'll let Your Excellency tell him in your own words that you're hoping for a child who doesn't look like his mirror image."

Gabriel huffed a laugh, lips curving wickedly as his hand brushed over his stomach. "It's only fair. Arik already stole all his features. This one is mine."

Damian stopped in front of him, leaning a hand on the edge of the chair, his golden eyes molten as they searched Gabriel's face. "Yours or mine," he said quietly, "it will still be ours. And I won't let either of you bear the weight alone this time."

"Overbearing much?" Gabriel drawled, brown eyes glinting as he arched a brow at him. "I will be fine and I'll even listen to what Marin says from the beginning this time."

Behind them, Marin gave a soft, incredulous sound that passed for his version of a laugh. "Did you hear that, Majesty? A miracle. He intends to follow instructions."

Gabriel shot him a sidelong look, smirk curling. "Don't ruin it by sounding too hopeful. You'll jinx it."

Damian's mouth curved, though his gaze stayed fixed on Gabriel. "I'll hold you to that promise," he murmured, voice rough with something quieter than command. Then, with a glance at Marin: "Every visit. Every word. I expect reports if he so much as rolls his eyes at you."

Marin inclined his head, expression flat, though his tone carried a faint dry edge. "With pleasure. Though I suspect Your Excellency's definition of 'listening' will still require… creative interpretation."

Gabriel leaned back against the chair with exaggerated grace, one hand still settled lightly at his stomach. "I heard that," he said, smirking faintly. "And for the record, I am perfectly obedient when I choose to be."

Damian's golden eyes burned hotter at that, his hand tightening against the chair's edge. "I'd argue the opposite."

Marin closed his notes with a decisive snap, clearly uninterested in the direction this exchange was about to take. "On that note, I'll leave the two of you to… negotiate obedience in private."