Chapter 139: Chapter 139: Two Hours of Training [Win-Win]

Rafael had never liked the training grounds.

They smelled like leather, sweat, metal, and ether, as if discipline had been made physical. The air here carried the sting of wards laid into stone, the faint hum of reinforcement spells woven into the walls so a man could be thrown hard enough to crack tile without cracking bone. It was a place built for violence to be refined into obedience.

It was also, unfortunately, Gregoris’s natural habitat.

Rafael moved through the corridor anyway, the hem of his coat brushing against his trousers, his steps measured with the quiet confidence he’d gained in the palace: not fast enough to appear frantic, not slow enough to invite interruption.

On Gregoris’s official schedule, the next two hours were simply labeled:

Training.

That meant a lot of things. It could mean sparring with Shadows until they stopped making mistakes. It could mean testing new ether-resistant restraints. It could mean a briefing disguised as a workout because Gregoris hated sitting in rooms.

It also meant he was here.

Rafael could have waited. He should have waited, even. Telling Gregoris in the evening would have been sensible: private, calm, no witnesses, and no chance of a commander’s face becoming a rumor by dinner.

But Rafael wasn’t sensible today.

He had held the words in his chest for all of twelve minutes before they started burning holes through his composure.

Omega girl.

He felt ridiculous about the excitement. He’d always prided himself on being controlled, on being the man who could file a report while the world burned around him. Yet now he was walking through a corridor like a man chasing a miracle, because he wanted to see Gregoris’s face when the information became real.

In almost four months, their child would be in the world.

In their hands.

That thought should have terrified him.

It did, a little… quietly, in the background, where anxiety lived like a low hum.

But over it was something else: a warmth that made his chest ache, an ongoing sense of inevitability that felt almost holy.

And then the practical part of Rafael’s brain, the imperial secretary that never truly shut up, slammed into another realization like a door.

’The nursery.’

He hadn’t thought about it at all.

Not once.

He had been consumed by paperwork, by wills, by Delphine’s ghost, and by trying to keep his life from being rewritten by other people’s hands. He had thought about health and scans and food and sleep schedules and whether he’d ever stop feeling like his body belonged to someone else.

He had not thought about where the baby would sleep.

And Gregoris… Gregoris had been suspiciously silent about it.

Rafael could almost hear Marin’s dry voice: ’He’s been pouting for five months because your body belongs to biology now instead of his schedule.’

Gregoris hadn’t pushed.

Which meant Gregoris had decided that mentioning a nursery would stress Rafael and had stored the entire problem somewhere in his own skull like an unspoken mission, waiting for the right moment to execute it.

Rafael’s lips pressed together.

He was going to have to ask later, after he saw Gregoris’s face.

The corridor widened near the main entrance to the grounds. Ether-lamps ran in a line along the ceiling, their glow caught in the polished edges of steel plaques that listed training rotations and command protocols. The sound of impact carried through the stone – blunt thuds, the scrape of boots, and the clipped bark of instruction.

Two Shadow guards at the threshold straightened as Rafael approached.

Their salutes were sharp. Not the casual courtesy of palace guards, but the exact respect of men trained to recognize rank, danger, and the Emperor’s inner circle.

“My lord,” one said.

Rafael inclined his head, calm and authoritative, as if he hadn’t just nearly sprinted here over a piece of information he wanted to press into Gregoris’s palms like a gift.

“I’m here to see Commander Frasner,” Rafael said.

The guard’s gaze moved automatically to Rafael’s midsection, subtle, quick, and professional. Then his eyes returned to Rafael’s face with renewed carefulness.

“Of course,” he said, and stepped aside immediately. “He’s inside.”

No questions.

Rafael walked in.

The training grounds opened up into a broad hall lined with reinforced stone and metal rails. The air was warmer here, heavy with exertion. Ether wards pulsed faintly along the floor, catching stray bursts of power like nets catching sparks.

Across the mats, Shadows moved in pairs – sparring, grappling, and striking with controlled brutality. Their movements were efficient, almost silent, and trained to kill without wasting motion.

And in the center of it all, like the axis the room rotated around, was Gregoris.

He wasn’t sparring.

He was teaching.

Shirt sleeves rolled up, forearms bare, hair slightly damp at the temples. His voice carried – not loud, but it didn’t need to be. It cut through the room in clean, decisive instructions that made men adjust their stance without argument.

He demonstrated a wrist lock with the careless competence that made it look simple.

The Shadow he used as an example grimaced and tapped out.

Gregoris released him instantly, stepping back with measured control.

Then, as if he’d felt the shift in the air, Gregoris’s head turned.

His gaze found Rafael immediately.

Everything else in the room seemed to blur.

His expression didn’t change much – not in a way anyone else would read – but Rafael knew him now. He saw the fraction of softness that appeared under the commander’s stillness, the subtle easing at the edges.

Gregoris dismissed his trainees with a single gesture.

They scattered like they’d been granted a mercy.

Gregoris crossed the mat toward Rafael.

Rafael held his ground, heart beating too hard, the words burning in his throat.

He didn’t wait for Gregoris to speak first.

He lifted his chin slightly, the way he did before delivering an imperial decision, and said, very clearly, so there would be no misunderstanding…

“We’re having an omega girl.”

For a second, Gregoris stopped.

Not because he didn’t understand.

Because something in him went utterly still, as if his entire body had to recalibrate around a new center of gravity.

Then his eyes darkened.

His breath changed.

And Rafael realized, with a sudden rush of satisfaction, that he was about to see exactly what he’d come for.

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