Chapter 80: Chapter 80: To the South

“…I said that theoretically,” Rafael muttered.

The ether-car moved in perfect silence, wards humming softly beneath the floor, expensive and utterly unconcerned with distance or terrain. In the front, the driver kept his eyes fixed on the road, posture rigid, presence carefully nonexistent. He was the same man who had been driving when Rafael and Gregoris had… made very poor, very memorable decisions in this exact vehicle, and Rafael could no longer acknowledge his existence without wanting to dissolve into the upholstery.

Gregoris sat on the opposite bench, directly in front of him.

“You kidnapped me,” Rafael accused, peering at him from the depths of his blanket like a disgruntled forest creature.

“I relocated you,” Gregoris corrected mildly. “At your request. It is either this or accidentally meeting Delphine at a very suspicious time. You know she doesn’t give up easily.”

Rafael winced despite himself.

“That was emotional hyperbole,” he said. “I was upset.”

“You were precise,” Gregoris replied. “You said you wanted distance, quiet, and at least a week where no one could find you without serious effort.”

Rafael hesitated.

“…I did say that.”

“Yes.”

“And I didn’t say now,” Rafael added weakly.

Gregoris’s mouth curved, just slightly. “You said ’as soon as possible.’”

Rafael glared at him. “I was not accounting for the fact that my legs feel like a personal betrayal.”

“That,” Gregoris said calmly, “is an entirely separate issue.”

He leaned forward, careful not to invade Rafael’s space, and extended a cup toward him.

“Coffee,” he offered. “Before you escalate.”

Rafael eyed it suspiciously. “Is this part of the kidnapping?”

“Yes,” Gregoris agreed. “A goodwill gesture.”

Rafael took it anyway, fingers curling around the warmth with a quiet, traitorous sigh. He drank slowly, letting the caffeine drag him a little further back into his body.

Silence stretched.

Outside, the scenery had shifted fully now, no more dense city lines, just road, trees, and long stretches of nothing that felt deliberately chosen.

“…Where are we going?” Rafael asked at last, quieter.

Gregoris didn’t answer immediately. He watched him over the rim of his own cup, expression thoughtful.

“Somewhere quiet,” he said. “In the south. It’s warm and away from the capital.”

Rafael narrowed his eyes. “Are we going south because of your work?”

Gregoris lowered his cup slightly, eyes still on Rafael, measuring not threat this time but mood.

“No,” he said simply. “Not for my work.”

Rafael didn’t relax. If anything, his suspicion sharpened, honed by years of political survival and a mother who treated vacations like traps.

“You’re lying,” he said flatly.

“I am not,” Gregoris replied, unbothered. “There are no meetings scheduled. No briefings. There are no units ready for me. My deputy has orders to pretend I don’t exist.”

Rafael blinked.

“…You told your deputy that?”

“Yes.”

“That must have gone well.”

Gregoris’s mouth twitched. “He asked if I was injured or dead.”

“And?”

“I said neither. Just unavailable.”

Rafael stared at him for a long moment, then looked out the window again. The road curved lazily through greenery now, sunlight catching on leaves, the ether lines beneath the asphalt humming faintly like a contented animal. It really didn’t look like the prelude to an ambush.

“Did Damian and Alexander really say nothing about it?”

Gregoris set his cup aside, unhurried. He leaned back against the seat, posture easy, like this wasn’t a question that bothered him in the slightest.

“They were informed,” he said. “Damian was… amused.”

Rafael blinked. “Amused?”

“He asked if this was what ’taking leave’ looked like for me now,” Gregoris replied evenly. “Then he told me to enjoy myself and not break anything that couldn’t be repaired.”

Rafael snorted despite himself.

“And Alexander?”

Gregoris’s mouth curved faintly. “Alexander was relieved.”

“That tracks,” Rafael muttered.

Gregoris inclined his head, accepting the judgment. “Alexander enjoys silence. My absence gives him uninterrupted time and fewer people in his space. He considers that a benefit.”

“And the intelligence side?” Rafael asked, still watching the trees slide past the window.

“Stable,” Gregoris replied. “Alexander’s branch is fine. Mine is delegated. My deputy is competent and enjoys proving it.”

Rafael huffed softly. “So everyone is either amused, relieved, or thriving without you.”

“Yes.”

Rafael turned back to him slowly. “That doesn’t bother you?”

Gregoris considered the question, not because it was difficult, but because it deserved an honest answer.

“No,” he said. “It reassures me.”

Rafael’s brows knit. “Reassures you of what?”

“That the world does not collapse when I step away,” Gregoris said evenly. “Which means I am allowed to.”

The words settled heavier than they sounded.

Rafael took another sip of coffee, smaller this time, thoughtful. His irritation had dulled to a manageable edge; what remained was soreness, fatigue, and the strange, unfamiliar sensation of being prioritized without negotiation.

“…So this is really just,” he gestured vaguely with the cup, “me being removed from my mother’s blast radius.”

“And given rest,” Gregoris added.

“And warmth.”

“Yes.”

“And zero expectations.”

Gregoris nodded once. “Correct.”

Rafael leaned back against the seat, blanket still wrapped around him like a personal statement. Outside, the road continued south, unhurried, sunlight filtering through trees that did not know his name or care about his lineage.

“…I still reserve the right to complain,” he said.

“You have already exercised it extensively,” Gregoris replied.

Rafael snorted, the corner of his mouth betraying him.

“…Wake me if something explodes,” he muttered, eyes drifting shut again.

“I won’t,” Gregoris said calmly. “That would defeat the purpose.”

Rafael made a faint, offended sound at that, but it lacked conviction. His grip on the coffee loosened, the cup resting securely in his hands as his head tipped back against the seat.

“…Unacceptable,” he murmured, already half-asleep. “Explosions are informational.”

Gregoris watched him for a moment, expression unreadable in that quiet, attentive way that meant he was filing the image away for later. Blanket cocooned. Hair a mess. Mouth still faintly curved, like his irritation had finally lost the fight.

“You’ll be informed afterward,” Gregoris said quietly. “If any occur.”

Rafael huffed, something between a laugh and a sigh, and finally went still. His breathing evened out, tension bleeding away as the ether-car carried them farther south, farther from the Capital and everything sharp and watching.

Gregoris looked away only once Rafael was fully asleep.

Outside, the road unwound through green and sun and silence.

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