Gregoris didn't answer right away.
He stood in the center of the room like a blade left upright in stone, perfectly still and perfectly placed, while Damian sat behind that desk as if the stone had always been his and the blade had only been waiting for him to decide it belonged there as well.
The question hung between them softly and lethally, as Damian's curiosity had always been.
'Tell me why.'
Gregoris' eyes flicked once to the ink still drying on the authorization Damian had just signed, then back to the Emperor's face. "Because the dampeners are for my mate," he said, voice even. "And because I am not interested in turning my home into a battlefield when she decides to cry at two in the morning."
Damian's mouth quirked. "So domestic."
Gregoris' stare sharpened. "Don't."
