Chapter 156: Chapter 156: Why not? [Win-Win]

Damian’s brows lifted, like this was an unexpected diplomatic refusal. “Why not?”

“Because you don’t get to collect my child,” Gregoris replied, voice flat. “You collect people like trophies.”

Damian’s mouth twitched. “I’m not treating people like trophies. Assets.”

Gregoris’ stare turned murderous. “That’s worse.”

Damian spread his hands slightly. “I would be a good godfather.”

“You would be a terrifying godfather,” Gregoris corrected. “You’d teach her cipher before she can speak. You’d give her a ward-stone as a rattle. You’d stare at her and decide which political crisis she’s going to solve at twenty.”

Damian’s gaze gleamed as if he found that charming. “I didn’t do any of that with Arik,” he said smoothly. “That is slander.”

Gregoris stared at him like the man had just insulted a law of physics.

“You didn’t teach Arik cipher before he could speak,” Gregoris repeated, slowly.

Damian’s mouth twitched. “Correct.”

Gregoris’ eyes narrowed. “Because he’s eighteen months old.”

Damian blinked once, offended on principle. “And?”

“And he can barely string three words together without biting someone in between,” Gregoris said flatly. “So yes. Congratulations. You haven’t turned him into a miniature strategist yet. The bar is underground.”

Damian’s expression remained composed, but the smallest lift at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. “He doesn’t bite.”

Gregoris’ stare went dead. “He bit Max.”

Damian’s brows rose. “Max deserved it.”

Gregoris’ jaw flexed. “He also bit the physician.”

Damian paused, considering that information like it was a troop report. “The physician was in his personal space.”

Gregoris looked like he wanted to throw the folder again. “You see? This is exactly why you don’t get godfather privileges. You’re already drafting legal defenses for a toddler.”

Damian’s gaze sharpened, proud in a way that was entirely too visible. “He has good instincts.”

“He has teeth,” Gregoris corrected. “And a royal sense of entitlement.”

Damian’s mouth curved faintly. “Inherited.”

Gregoris exhaled through his nose. “You absolutely gave him a ward stone.”

Damian lifted a brow. “That is not a rattle.”

“It glowed,” Gregoris said. “It hummed. It was warded. It made the nursery guards panic because the heir was holding a small object that could probably survive a siege.”

Damian’s expression went mildly offended. “It was a basic ward stone.”

Gregoris’ eyes narrowed. “Basic for you is still ’may explode if mishandled’ for everyone else.”

Damian tapped his pen once against the vellum, like it could end the argument by decree. “Arik liked it.”

Gregoris’ voice went flatter. “Of course he liked it. It’s shiny and dangerous. He’s your child.”

Damian’s gaze gleamed again. “So you admit he’s thriving.”

Gregoris leaned an inch closer, the air sharpening with him. “I admit you are already mentally assigning him a political crisis.”

Damian’s smile thinned. “I am not.”

Gregoris stared. “You are.”

Damian didn’t deny it quickly enough.

Gregoris’ mouth curled, viciously satisfied. “I’m right.” He took the glass from the desk and took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Damian’s face. “Fine… only if Rafael is going to accept it.”

Damian’s expression changed for the first time since Gregoris entered the office – not dramatically, not enough for anyone else to notice if they hadn’t been around him for years, but enough.

Surprise. Then, instantly, calculation.

Then something else, bright and dangerous.

“Accepted,” Damian said.

Gregoris’ eyes narrowed. “You didn’t even hear the condition.”

“I heard it,” Damian replied mildly. “I’m simply not concerned.”

Gregoris’ stare went flat. “You should be.”

Damian’s mouth curved. “Rafael likes me.”

“He is terrified of you,” Gregoris corrected and raised a hand before Damian could retort. “No. It is not the same thing as when he was terrified of me.”

Damian’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s ask him then.”

Gregoris’ shoulders went very still.

“No,” he said, immediately.

Damian blinked slowly. “Why not?”

“Because you’re going to call him like this is a casual conversation,” Gregoris said, voice flat with the kind of dread that only existed when you knew exactly how Damian’s mind worked. “And you’re going to do it through Gabriel.”

Damian’s smile widened by a fraction.

Gregoris stared at him, murderous. “You’re going to do it through Gabriel.”

Damian didn’t deny it. He reached for the console beside the desk with that same effortless ease he used to sign orders that toppled cities. His fingers tapped a code. The etherline along the baseboard pulsed, the humming panels behind the molding catching the command like a heartbeat.

Gregoris stepped forward. “Don’t.”

Damian didn’t even look up. “He’s in Gabriel’s office,” he said calmly.

Gregoris froze. “How do you—”

Damian’s eyes flicked to him, amused. “I’m the Emperor.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you get,” Damian replied, then turned slightly toward the console as the encrypted channel opened.

A soft chime.

Then: connection.

The ether-screen shifted, projecting a discreet audio feed – no image, because Damian had long ago learned that seeing too much invited consequences he didn’t want to pay. But he still wanted control. He always wanted control.

His voice when he spoke was mild, almost pleasant.

“Gabriel.”

The line was quiet for a beat. Then Gabriel’s voice came through, smooth and sharp like silk hiding a blade.

“What did you break?”

Damian’s mouth curved. “Nothing.”

“That’s suspicious,” Gabriel said, and there was paper in the background, the faint scratch of a pen. “I’m busy.”

Damian’s tone didn’t change. “Rafael is with you?”

A pause.

Then Gabriel, dryly: “Is this about your new hobby of monitoring people like a bored god?”

Damian’s eyes gleamed. “It’s about efficiency.”

Gregoris’ gaze went dead. He mouthed silently, You’re insane.

Damian ignored him.

On the other end of the line, Gabriel exhaled once – controlled, already resigned to the fact that Damian’s definition of ’efficient’ usually included emotional damage.

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “Rafael is here.”

Damian’s voice was calm. “Put him on.”

Another pause. Faint movement, footsteps. A chair scraping.

Then Rafael’s voice came through, a fraction softer than Gabriel’s, careful in a way that was not cowardice so much as survival.

“Your Majesty?”

Gregoris’ spine went rigid.

Damian’s mouth curved, pleased. “Hello, Rafael.”

Rafael’s breath remained steady for half a heartbeat.

“Yes,” Rafael said, politely. “Hello.”

Damian’s voice was still mild. “Do you like me?”

Gregoris’ eyes flared.

On the line, there was a tiny pause that sounded like Rafael’s soul leaving his body and returning because he had bills to pay.

Then Rafael said, carefully, “This is… an unexpected question.”

Damian’s tone stayed pleasant. “Answer it anyway.”

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