Chapter 140: Chapter 140: Tutors and distraction

Dax’s brow rose. “Lucas?”

Chris groaned quietly, already regretting opening his mouth. “Oh, no.”

“Christopher…” Dax’s tone was deceptively calm, as if he knew he would not like the answer. His arm around Chris tightened just enough to remind him there was no escaping this conversation. “What does Cressida and Serathine teaching you have to do with Lucas?”

“It’s… a long story.”

“I have time.”

Chris sighed, tipping his head back against Dax’s shoulder. “One that starts with Mia asking me about my suppressants.”

“The ones you didn’t want to tell me about,” Dax said evenly.

“Well…” Chris hesitated, eyes flicking toward the terrace lights as if the city might bail him out. “I told her only because I knew you asked her to. And because she can’t lie to me, not when she looks that guilty.”

Dax’s gaze narrowed. “And Lucas was there.”

“Unfortunately.”

“What did he say?”

Chris’s lips twitched faintly. “That I was living in a glass cage. That if I wanted to breathe, I should stop cooperating.”

Dax stilled. The pause stretched long enough for Chris to realize just how bad that sounded aloud.

He lifted both hands in mock surrender. “Before you start planning his execution, he wasn’t wrong about the glass part, just the method. I didn’t tell him anything important. He was just… Lucas. You know how he gets when he thinks he’s being clever.”

“I do,” Dax muttered. “And I know how he gets when he thinks he’s winning.”

“Well, apparently, his idea of ’winning’ was adding me to a group chat.”

That made Dax’s attention snap back to him. “A what?”

“A group chat,” Chris repeated, tone flat, as though saying it twice might somehow make it sound less absurd. “Serathine, Cressida, Mia, Lucas, and me. They call themselves the Glass Crackers.”

For a heartbeat, Dax simply stared at him, too composed and silent. Then he exhaled through his nose, the sound soft but unmistakably dangerous. “Of course they do.”

“In my defense,” Chris said quickly, “I thought it was a joke. And I didn’t tell them anything that wasn’t already public.”

“Christopher,” Dax said slowly, “they are not public. They are two of the most politically dangerous women in the Empire and the most ungovernable man in Palatine. And Mia.”

“She’s the only reasonable one,” Chris said helpfully.

“That’s not reassuring.”

Chris sighed, his voice softening despite himself. “Look, I didn’t do it to undermine you. Lucas was… being Lucas. He likes getting reactions. And Serathine offered help I didn’t think I’d ever take. But apparently, you agreed for me.”

Dax pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because refusing Serathine is like refusing gravity. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Now you know how it feels,” Chris muttered.

That earned a quiet huff of laughter from Dax. “Fair enough.”

They fell into silence again, the kind that wasn’t entirely comfortable but wasn’t hostile either. The night breeze drifted through, carrying the faint scent of rain and the remnants of Chris’s frost still clinging to the stone.

Finally, Dax spoke again, low and deliberate. “Next time, you tell me first. I don’t care if it’s Lucas, or Serathine, or the gods themselves… I find out from you.”

Chris looked up at him, eyes glinting with the perfect distraction.

The corner of his mouth curved in that quiet, dangerous way Dax had learned to recognize a second too late.

Before the king could react, Chris shifted, twisting slightly under the blanket and closing the space between them. His hand came up, brushing against Dax’s collar, fingertips tracing the edge of fabric and skin.

Dax stilled. “Christopher.”

“Mm?” Chris murmured, feigning innocence. His breath ghosted against Dax’s jaw, his scent now warm and soft again, with no trace of frost left. “You said I should tell you first. I’m telling you now that I don’t want to talk about Lucas anymore.”

“That’s not…” Dax began, but whatever he meant to say dissolved as Chris leaned in, his mouth brushing against his.

The kiss began with a soft press of lips against lips. Dax’s initial tension melted away as Chris’s fingers gently traced the line of his jaw, coaxing a response. His hand moved to Chris’s waist, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface of their conversation.

Chris’ lips were warm and soft, his tongue brushing against Dax’s in a familiar dance. The world around them faded, the city lights and the distant hum of life retreating into the background.

Dax’s other hand found its way into Chris’s hair, tangling in the soft strands as he tilted Chris’s head for better access.

The taste of him was sharp and clean, touched still by the memory of frost. Dax drank it in like a man trying to remember how to breathe. Chris kissed as he argued: relentlessly and beautifully, until reason had left the room.

Dax broke the kiss first, though barely. His forehead rested against Chris’s, breath still unsteady. “You’re dangerous when you do that,” he murmured.

Chris’s lips curved, voice soft against his skin. “And yet you never stop me.”

“Because you never give me the chance,” Dax said, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His thumb brushed along Chris’s jaw, tracing the faint line of color that had returned to his skin. “Was that a distraction or a declaration?”

“Whichever keeps me alive,” Chris replied dryly.

Dax chuckled low in his throat, the sound rumbling against him. “You’ll live. You just might regret it when Cressida starts her lectures.”

Chris groaned, dropping his head against Dax’s shoulder. “Don’t remind me. You have no idea how terrifying she is when she smiles.”

“I’ve seen her smile,” Dax said, amusement threading through his tone. “I had the same instinct you did… run.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m the King,” Dax murmured, brushing his lips over the shell of Chris’s ear. “And kings don’t run. They endure.”

Chris huffed out a soft, tired laugh. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“I do,” Dax said. “And tomorrow, you’ll start learning to do the same.”

“Tomorrow?” Chris lifted his head, suspicion flickering in his gaze.

“They arrive in the morning.”

Chris froze. “…You mean here?”

Dax smiled slowly, the expression too composed to be innocent. “Where else?”

Chris stared at him, utterly betrayed. “You’re letting them into your palace? Into our…”

“Into your education,” Dax corrected, far too pleased with himself. “And if you behave, I might even save you from Serathine’s first etiquette quiz.”

Chris glared with indignation while clenching the blanket. “I hate you.”

Dax’s hand tightened at his waist, drawing him close again. “No, you don’t,” he murmured. “But you’ll say it again tomorrow.”

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