The imperial administrative office looked like someone had taken a perfectly organized workspace and fed it into an industrial shredder.
Paper files were stacked in uneven towers. Ether-powered tablets buzzed and vibrated across the long conference table as new messages arrived. Several large monitors displayed spreadsheets, security updates, and the ever-changing seating chart for the Coming of Age Ball, updated so often Rafael was convinced it was sentient and malicious.
Gabriel sat at the head of the table, seven months pregnant, mood lethal, surrounded by nobles' requests, complaints, and threats disguised as polite correspondence. With Damian in Donin and Gregoris playing war at his side, Gabriel had been left unsupervised.
This was dangerous. For everyone else.
Rafael typed steadily on his slim ether-powered laptop, answering Gabriel's questions with mechanical efficiency while his thoughts drifted to cookies, to blood, to a kiss that still bothered him in ways he refused to dissect.
It had been two weeks.
Two blissful, functional, panic-filled weeks with no sign of Gregoris.
The man had been deployed repeatedly with Damian, hunting Hadeon and dismantling Donin's insurgent grid. Each day Rafael checked the morning schedule, half-expecting an ambush behind a door or a cup of coffee, and each day he breathed again.
He was free.
Except not really, because the Coming of Age Ball preparations were eating his soul.
"Rafael," Gabriel said sharply, tapping an ether tablet with growing irritation, "explain to me why House von Rath believes they must sit above House Lennox."
Rafael didn't even look up. "They emailed at six this morning. Something about 'lineage considerations' and 'the vibration sensitivity of their heir's attire.'"
Gabriel stared at him. "The… what?"
Rafael passed him the tablet. "Apparently the young lord has a suit embroidered with micro-ether filaments that react to strong sound fields. They fear sitting too close to the orchestra."
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. "We are not rearranging the entire ballroom because a boy's outfit could glow too brightly."
"I told them the same," Rafael replied, continuing to type.
Another monitor chimed with a new message. Gabriel's eye twitched.
"Rafael," Gabriel said in a calm, even tone that meant someone was about to die, "House Vale just claimed they deserve proximity to the main staircase because their crest features a phoenix."
"Yes," Rafael said. "I've seen the email. I was… hoping you wouldn't."
Gabriel looked at him.
Rafael corrected quickly. "I mean… reviewing it together seems efficient."
Gabriel set down the tablet too gently. "Rafael, if another noble invokes symbolism to justify seating placement, I will drag the entire ball into the courtyard and let them fight for chairs."
Rafael paused his typing. "We do have security concerns…"
"No," Gabriel said, "we have entitlement concerns."
Another tablet buzzed. Gabriel glared at it.
Rafael reached over, turned the notification sound off, and continued sorting the documents with the grace of a man trying to keep his pregnant superior from burning the aristocracy to ashes.
"It's temporary," Rafael said lightly. "Damian will be back soon."
Gabriel's expression held the hollow, simmering fury of a man abandoned by his mate during a sensitive trimester. "He is in Donin hunting my father-in-law while I am here arguing with nobles about chairs."
Rafael nodded sympathetically. "The Empire appreciates your sacrifice."
Gabriel shot him a dead, exhausted stare.
Rafael cleared his throat. "Well. I appreciate it."
A long silence followed, interrupted only by the whir of the ether-powered air circulation system.
Gabriel finally spoke again. "You're quiet today."
"I'm working," Rafael said smoothly.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "You're thinking about something. And not something useful."
Rafael typed faster. "I assure you, Your Highness, everything in my mind is strictly professional."
"Mm," Gabriel murmured, clearly unconvinced. "Still panicking about Gregoris?"
Rafael froze for exactly one second. Then resumed typing. "It has been two peaceful weeks. I am focusing on my duties."
Gabriel leaned back. "Two peaceful weeks usually precede a disaster."
Rafael swallowed. "Please don't say that."
Gabriel arched a brow. "Rafael. He ate poisoned cookies. Bloodied his lip. Kissed you like you started a war. Then went to Donin for a fortnight."
"Yes," Rafael said tightly. "And it was wonderful."
"Gregoris kissing you?"
Rafael made a strangled noise that hovered somewhere between outrage and despair. "No. Him being gone."
Gabriel looked at him for a long, quiet moment. He was not judging but treating Rafael's love life the way he looked at tactical reports or medical notes or Damian's face when Damian lied about being fine.
"Rafael," he said softly, "why won't you give him a chance?"
Rafael froze.
He turned his head toward Gabriel slowly, like a man facing a firing squad. "Your Highness, with all due respect… Have you lost your mind?"
Gabriel didn't even blink. "Probably. But answer the question."
Rafael sputtered. "He threatened Augustus's car. He manipulated the courting system. He filed a threat assessment about my dates. He… he kissed me without permission…"
"Yes," Gabriel said calmly. "All… dramatic, yes. But that's not the point."
Rafael stared at him, genuinely offended. "How is any of that not the point?"
"Because those are the symptoms," Gabriel said. "Not the reason."
Rafael opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Gabriel continued, voice steady, tone almost gentle. "Rafael, you know people. You read motives before they form. And yet you pretend you don't see the obvious. Why?"
Rafael leaned back in his chair as if physical distance might protect him. "Because the obvious is insane."
"No," Gabriel said, "the obvious is simple. He is interested."
Rafael went rigid. "He's… obsessive. He wants to win."
Gabriel shook his head. "He wants you."
Rafael recoiled like the word burned. "Absolutely not. He wants a challenge. He wants control. He wants…"
"He wants what he can't have easily," Gabriel interrupted, still gentle, still steady. "Which is you. Because you don't bend. You push back. And he has never had to earn anything in his life."
Rafael swallowed.
Gabriel's expression didn't change. He was simply telling a truth Rafael had refused to articulate.
"And," Gabriel added quietly, "you know something else too."
Rafael didn't respond.
"Gregoris," Gabriel said, "would stop if you gave him what he wanted too easily."
Rafael blinked.
His breath caught in his throat, a small, sharp sound. "He… would."
"Yes," Gabriel said. "He thrives on resistance. On the hunt. On the game. If you stop playing, just once, he has to reveal what he actually wants."
Rafael looked down at the tablet in front of him, fingers tightening around the device.
Gabriel watched him, patient, unblinking. "So I will ask again, Rafael. Not as your superior. Not as Damian's consort. Just as someone who sees what you refuse to see. Why won't you give him a chance?"
Rafael's voice finally came, soft and brittle. "Because if I give him anything… he'll take everything."
Gabriel's lips curved, faintly but knowingly. "At least now you're being honest."
Rafael pressed a hand to his forehead, mortified. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"You don't have to," Gabriel said. "You only have to stop running."
Before Rafael could argue, protest, or spiral…
His ether-powered phone buzzed on the table with a message from Gregoris Frasner.
"Landing soon. Six hours. Don't hide."
Rafael stared at it.
Gabriel exhaled, weary and amused. "Well. He seems eager."
Rafael whispered, "I'm going to pass out."
Gabriel patted a stack of folders. "No. You're going to finish this seating chart. Then you're going to meet him."
Rafael glared at the nobles' files like they had personally caused this.
Gabriel added gently, "Rafael… maybe don't start with poison this time."
Rafael whispered, horrified, "He'll think I'm in love."