Chapter 157: Chapter 157: Negotiation [Win-Win ]

Rafael’s voice went even softer, which was always a warning sign with him. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I respect you.”

Damian’s mouth twitched. “That’s not what I asked.”

Gregoris leaned forward, teeth clenched. “Damian…”

Damian lifted a hand without looking at him. ’Quiet.’

Rafael cleared his throat. “I… appreciate what you’ve done for the Empire,” he said, choosing every word like it might explode. “And for people like me.”

Damian’s gaze narrowed. “And?”

Rafael hesitated.

Gregoris could practically hear the calculation: what was safe to say, what wasn’t, what would keep Damian amused, and also what would keep Gregoris from murdering someone later.

Rafael finally said, with careful honesty, “You frighten me.”

Damian’s eyes glinted. “I know.”

Rafael continued, voice steady now, as if committing to the truth was easier than dancing around it. “But I don’t… dislike you.”

Gregoris went still.

Damian’s mouth curved faintly, satisfaction quiet. “Good.”

Rafael’s breath hitched, almost inaudible. “May I ask why you needed to know that?”

Damian’s gaze flicked briefly to Gregoris—pure, delighted malice—then back to the console.

“I want to be Natalie’s godfather,” Damian said.

On the line, there was a silence so complete it felt like the entire palace held its breath.

Then Gabriel’s voice cut in, sharp as a blade.

“You what?”

Damian didn’t flinch. “It’s a symbol.”

Gabriel’s tone went flat, lethal in its calm. “You want a symbol. So you picked my office to stage it.”

Damian’s mouth curved faintly. “You’re welcome.”

Gabriel ignored that with practiced precision. “Rafael,” he said, and the single name carried the entire weight of you are allowed to say no.

Rafael swallowed. Gregoris could hear it – could hear the careful inhale of a man who had learned how to navigate monsters without ever pretending they weren’t monsters.

Rafael’s voice came out soft. “Yes?”

Gabriel’s tone was controlled. “Do you want this?”

Damian, unhelpfully, added with mild sincerity, “I will protect her regardless.”

Gabriel snapped, “Damian.”

Damian went quiet.

Rafael hesitated again, and Gregoris felt it in his own chest like a pulled wire, because it wasn’t fear of Damian that made Rafael pause. It was the knowledge that anything involving the Emperor always came with a price, even when the price was paid in attention.

Rafael’s voice finally steadied. “I want Natalie safe,” he said.

Gabriel’s reply was immediate. “She is safe.”

“With respect,” Rafael said, still gentle, “she is safe because Gregoris makes her safe. And because you make the Empire afraid to try.”

Gregoris’ jaw tightened.

Damian’s voice was mild, almost pleased. “Accurate.”

Gabriel’s tone sharpened. “Damian, don’t encourage him. He’s trying to be diplomatic.”

“I’m being supportive,” Damian corrected.

Gabriel exhaled. “Supportive isn’t the word I’d use.”

Damian’s mouth curved, and his eyes flicked toward Gregoris again like he couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “It’s annexation,” he said lightly.

Gregoris threw the report at Damian with alarming speed.

Damian caught it laughing.

The paper smacked into his palm with a sharp slap, edges fluttering once like wings, then stilled – trapped by Damian’s grip and his inhuman reflexes. He didn’t even glance down at the numbers. He just looked up, entertained, as if the thrown report had been the most affectionate thing Gregoris had ever done in his life.

From the console, Gabriel’s voice came through, dry and lethal.

“I can hear you throwing government documents.”

Gregoris’ stare went flat. “Good.”

Damian, still smiling, lifted the report slightly like a trophy. “It’s fine. It has wards.”

“It has budgets,” Gabriel corrected. “Put it down.”

Damian’s smile didn’t fade. “Gabriel, you’re ruining the moment.”

“There is no moment,” Gabriel said, his tone calm enough to be a threat. “There is only you trying to annex my staff like a bored tyrant.”

Damian’s brows rose. “Bored?”

Gabriel’s voice sharpened. “Damian.”

Damian sighed, long-suffering, and placed the report neatly back on the desk with exaggerated care, smoothing the bent corner with two fingers like he was repairing something injured. “There,” he said. “Safe. Untouched. Untraumatized.”

Gregoris looked like he wanted to throw something heavier next.

Rafael, on the line, made a faint sound that was half laugh and half panic. “Your Majesty…”

Damian’s attention snapped back to the console, instantly calm again, like he hadn’t just been grinning. “Yes.”

Rafael hesitated, only long enough to choose words that couldn’t be misunderstood, then spoke with a softness that didn’t dilute the steel underneath it.

“You can be Natalie’s godfather if Gregoris agrees too,” Rafael said. “And there will be rules.”

Damian’s gaze narrowed, amused. “Rules.”

“Yes,” Rafael replied, still gentle, but unyielding. “No warded gifts. No stones. No charms. No runes. Nothing that hums, glows, or is ’harmless’ by imperial standards. She’s one month old. She doesn’t need protection disguised as jewelry or toys that can set off a nursery ward.”

There was a brief silence.

Gregoris’ eyes narrowed, heat and pride warring in his expression. That was Rafael – soft-spoken, careful, and completely immovable once he decided a line mattered.

Damian, meanwhile, went still in a way that meant he was deciding whether to argue or respect the spine he was being shown.

He chose carefully.

“Define ’warded,’” Damian said, mild. “This palace breathes through wards.”

Rafael didn’t flinch at the attempt to turn it into philosophy.

“I’m not talking about the building,” Rafael said. “I’m talking about you. Your personal gifts. Your private little solutions. Anything you hand her.”

Damian’s mouth twitched. “So you’re banning me, specifically.”

Rafael’s voice stayed soft, but it didn’t give ground. “I’m setting boundaries,” he corrected. “If you want to be part of her life, you don’t bring your habits into her crib.”

In the background, Natalie made a small sound, more breath than cry, then settled again. A month old and already capable of turning a room into a battlefield without moving more than her fingers.

Gregoris, standing in Damian’s office, gripped the edge of the folder hard enough to crease it.

Damian noticed.

Then Rafael added, as calmly as if he were discussing a schedule change, “Also, you will be a godfather only as a pair. With Gabriel.”

In the imperial office, Gregoris’ mouth curved in a wide grin, his silver eyes shining.

Because there it was – the Emperor’s grand plan, neatly diminished by an omega with a baby on his shoulder and a spine of steel.

Damian’s gaze flicked to Gregoris, caught the grin, and his eyes narrowed with faint, amused offense.

“You’re enjoying this,” Damian said.

Gregoris didn’t bother denying it. “Immensely.”

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