Chapter 41: Chapter 41: A shame.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

The words barely carried, swallowed by the apartment’s quiet, but they helped him all the same. Rafael did not touch the collar. Its presence alone was loud enough, a calculated intrusion masquerading as confidence, as if being expensive absolved it of what it represented.

He straightened slowly, spine aligning with the same discipline he used at court, and stepped back from the table. The collar remained where it was, nestled in velvet like a challenge waiting to be accepted. He refused to give it the dignity of a reaction beyond that first incredulous breath.

“No,” he said again, more calmly this time, as if explaining something obvious to an especially dense adversary. “That is not how this ends.”

Sleep did not come after that.

Rafael lay in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling while the city outside shifted through its nocturnal rhythms. Every time his thoughts drifted toward exhaustion, they snapped back to focus with renewed irritation. The wards. The access. The implication was that his space, his home, was negotiable. That his adulthood was a milestone someone else could acknowledge, commemorate, or mark.

By morning, he had stopped trying.

He showered, dressed, and left the apartment without looking at the coffee table again. The box remained untouched. So did the wine. Some statements did not require repetition.

The palace was already awake when he arrived, though the private wing told a different story. Here, the air was quieter, heavier with discretion that came from too many eyes pretending not to see. Rafael caught fragments as he passed: lowered voices, careful phrasing.

Consort Gabriel was unwell. Consort was resting. His Grace was weakened.

Rafael almost smiled.

Gabriel’s study, however, did not look like the domain of a man on the verge of collapse.

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, illuminating stacks of documents. Gabriel sat behind the desk, eight months pregnant and unmistakably so, one hand resting against the curve of his abdomen as he read through reports with infuriating calm. He looked up as Rafael entered, eyes sharp, posture composed, as if rumors were merely another administrative nuisance.

Rafael began pacing the moment the door closed behind him.

“I’m resigning,” he said without preamble.

Gabriel blinked once. Then, he set the report aside with the soft sigh of a parent watching their kid start a tantrum. “Good morning to you too.”

“This is not a conversation,” Rafael continued, hands clasped behind his back to keep from gesturing too violently. “It’s a notification. Gregoris Frasner crossed a line last night, and I am removing myself from the equation.”

“Sit,” Gabriel said mildly.

Rafael did not.

“He entered my apartment,” Rafael went on, the words tight but controlled. “He bypassed my entire security, even that placed by the palace and left a collar and a note.” He laughed once, sharp and humorless. “Apparently it ’suits’ me.”

The temperature in the room shifted.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, expression no longer mild. “Did you keep it?”

“I did not throw it out a window,” Rafael snapped. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“That will do,” Gabriel replied evenly. “And you believe resigning deprives him of leverage.”

“Gabriel, I’m not stupid,” Rafael shot back. “If Gregoris put his mind to making my life a living hell, he could do it whether I’m in the palace or not.”

“Then what do you plan?” Gabriel asked.

“To get away from the Empire. From everyone,” Rafael blurted, the words leaving his mouth before he’d fully weighed them.

“That won’t do it,” Gabriel said mildly, rising from behind his desk and moving toward the chaise, lowering himself into it with careful economy.

Rafael turned sharply. “Why not?”

“Because Gregoris can’t touch you while you’re my employee,” Gabriel replied. “The moment you resign, there are no longer any boundaries he is required to respect.”

Rafael exhaled sharply and turned away, pacing again, irritation sparking along his nerves. “He already crossed one,” he said. “He entered my apartment.”

“Yes,” Gabriel agreed. “Which is why I’m reminding you of the other one.”

Rafael stilled.

Gabriel watched him for a moment before continuing, voice calm. “I told Gregoris, explicitly, not to touch you.” His eyes sharpened slightly. “He did not ignore that instruction. He went around it.”

Rafael frowned. “That’s a generous interpretation.”

“No,” Gabriel said. “It’s an accurate one.”

He shifted on the chaise, one hand resting against his abdomen as the child moved, grounding himself before speaking again. “If Gregoris wanted to frighten you, you’d already be frightened. If he wanted to corner you, you wouldn’t have found the collar on the table but around your neck.”

Rafael opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Gabriel continued, unhurried, “You wanted to make him lose interest by showing interest in him. You assumed one kiss would close the matter. Rafael, you are better than that and the poisoned cookies are proof enough that you know how to end a game when you choose to.”

Rafael frowned. “Are you telling me to keep reacting?” he asked, irritation giving way to genuine confusion. “Because if that’s the case, he could enter my apartment or my mother’s manor at any time.”

Gabriel tilted his head slightly. “But did he enter your apartment? Or did you receive a delivery through staff you already trust and you rush to conclusions because the implication unsettled you?”

Rafael stared at him.

“Why do you make sense?” Rafael demanded, irritation flaring sharp and bright as he turned back toward him. “I don’t appreciate it.”

Gabriel’s mouth curved, faint and unapologetic. “You came here because you do.”

“First, let me check something.”

Rafael activated his communicator, his expression composed in the way only irritation refined by competence could be.

“Lena,” he said as soon as the channel opened. “Did we receive any deliveries two days ago? Unscheduled.”

There was a brief pause, then his maid’s voice, steady and unsurprised. “Yes, my lord. A personal item. Delivered mid-afternoon.”

Rafael stopped walking.

“From whom?”

“House Alamina,” Lena replied. “The Duke’s seal was verified. Everything was in order.”

Rafael closed his eyes long enough to let the confirmation settle into place without spilling over into something undignified.

“…Thank you, Lena,” he said at last, voice level again. “That will be all.”

“Yes, my lord.” The channel closed with a soft chime.

Rafael stood where he was, communicator still in hand, irritation no longer flaring but reorganizing itself into something colder.

Gregoris Frasner had not entered his apartment.

He had never needed to.

Rafael opened his mouth, then closed it again, the words he might have said evaporating under the weight of the realization. It was almost worse this way: cleaner, subtler, and completely within the rules.

Behind him, Gabriel shifted slightly on the chaise.

“So,” Gabriel said mildly. “What did you find?”

Rafael turned back toward him, expression unreadable. “That I accused him of an intrusion he didn’t commit.”

“And?”

“And that he still managed to make me feel as though he had,” Rafael replied, irritation threading through the words despite his control. “Without stepping over a single line.”

Gabriel inclined his head. “Which is why I told you he went around the boundary instead of through it.”

Rafael let out a slow breath. “He played me.”

“Yes,” Gabriel agreed. “Briefly.”

That qualifier made Rafael’s jaw tighten. “I don’t like being briefly anything.”

“I’m aware,” Gabriel said dryly.

Rafael crossed his arms, pacing once more, though slower now, more deliberate. “He used my own assumptions against me. Let me do the escalation for him. I walked in here ready to resign because I thought he’d proven he could take whatever he wanted.”

“And instead,” Gabriel said, “he proved he could make you think that.”

Rafael grimaced. “That’s worse.”

“It is,” Gabriel said calmly. “But, Rafael, you forget, this is his job.”

Rafael stopped pacing.

Slowly, he turned back toward the chaise, irritation tightening into something colder and far more focused. “No,” he said. “I didn’t forget. I underestimated how cleanly he does it.”

Gabriel’s gaze followed him without comment, attentive in that way that suggested he was letting Rafael reach the conclusion himself.

“He didn’t invade my space,” Rafael continued, voice low. “He didn’t threaten me. He didn’t even technically provoke me.” A humorless breath escaped him. “He let me supply the panic. Let me assume escalation where there was only implication.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “Which means he learned something about you.”

“And I learned something about him,” Rafael replied. “That he prefers restraint to force. That he enjoys pressure without fingerprints.”

Gabriel’s mouth curved faintly. “That usually makes people dangerous.”

Rafael nodded once. “It makes them predictable.”

Rafael resumed pacing, but this time it was controlled, almost leisurely. The earlier edge of agitation had burned away, leaving behind calculation. “He expected me to disappear,” he said. “To resign and maybe run. That was the correct outcome from his perspective.”

“And instead?” Gabriel prompted.

“And instead I stay,” Rafael replied. “I remain visible. Polite. Unmoved.” His eyes flicked up. “And I stop reacting where he expects a reaction.”

Gabriel studied him for a moment, then inclined his head slightly.

“I’m going to get revenge,” Rafael said then, calmly.

Gabriel blinked once. Then he smiled sharply with interest. “Please do. Someone needs to make that man kneel.”

Rafael huffed, the corner of his mouth lifting despite himself. “I’m not poisoning him.”

“A shame,” Gabriel said mildly. “But probably wise.

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