Chapter 99: Chapter 99: Report

A soft chime sounded from the study door, two tones spaced just far enough apart to signal a shadow. The manor’s security system registered the code first, an ether-thin ripple in the air that Gregoris felt more than heard.

Gregoris didn’t even look up from Rafael.

“Enter,” he said.

The door opened without a creak, the hinges too expensive and too well maintained for drama, and Norman stepped inside like he had been built out of caution.

He was dressed the way Shadows dressed, in a dark suit infused with ether wards in the seams. His hair was cut short. His eyes were alert in a way that never switched off. A small earpiece sat flush against his skin, almost invisible.

He stopped the moment he registered Rafael.

Not because Rafael was dangerous. Because Rafael was… present. Because there were lines people didn’t cross in the orbit of a commander’s private life unless invited.

Norman’s gaze flicked to Gregoris, a silent question.

“I have a report,” Norman said carefully.

Rafael lifted his chin, the movement controlled and instinctively elegant, even wrapped in a robe like a domestic scandal. He didn’t move away, but he also didn’t intrude, just stood with his hip near the desk, close enough that Gregoris’s hand could reach him without thinking.

Gregoris watched Norman for a beat, then said, calm and firm, “Report anyway.”

Norman’s posture didn’t relax, but his hesitation died. He shifted his tablet in one hand, thumb moving once over the screen as if pulling up the relevant file. The holo-display above it flickered to life.

“It’s Lady Delphine,” Norman began.

Rafael’s eyes narrowed at the name, as if his body had learned to bristle before his mind caught up.

Gregoris’s expression didn’t change. “Go on.”

Norman brought up a map view of the Capital with glowing markers overlaid on streets and buildings – private clubs, salons, a charity gala venue, and three locations that had nothing to do with charity and everything to do with who met whom when they thought no one was looking.

“She’s been moving,” Norman said. “Not publicly, she’s careful. But there’s been an uptick in private visits. Two calls to the Raveloux estate, one meeting with Duchess Ceraline’s aide, and a closed luncheon yesterday at the Sable House.”

Rafael’s mouth curved without humor. “Of course it was Sable House.”

Norman’s gaze flicked to him, then back to Gregoris. He was good. He didn’t look surprised that Rafael knew the names. People underestimated Rafael only until he spoke.

Norman continued, voice firm “She’s not talking directly. She’s letting other people talk for her. The gossip has a pattern.”

Gregoris’s hand, which had been resting near Rafael’s wrist, shifted slightly.

“What pattern?” Gregoris asked.

Norman inhaled once, like he disliked repeating it even to a man who could dismantle a rumor network in an afternoon.

“They’re saying,” Norman reported, “that you don’t intend to make Lord Rosenroth your Duchess.”

Rafael went still.

Not shocked, Rafael rarely gave anyone that satisfaction, but the stillness tightened around his shoulders like a cinch.

Norman kept his eyes forward. “They’re using the absence of a public wedding as leverage. They’re saying it was… temporary. That you took him in as a lover, not as a consort.”

Rafael’s fingers tightened around the candied ginger in his palm until the wrapper crinkled.

Gregoris’s voice didn’t rise, but the temperature in it dropped a degree. “And?”

“And,” Norman said, “they’re saying that as a dominant alpha with your title, you’re already searching for a proper candidate. A ’real Duchess.’ Someone from an old house. Someone who can represent you publicly and produce an heir without complications.”

Rafael let out a quiet breath through his nose. “Charming.”

Norman’s jaw worked once, like he had opinions he wasn’t paid to voice. “It’s gaining traction in the salons. Not the official newsfeeds, yet. But the noble circles are treating it like an open invitation.”

Gregoris finally looked at the holo-map, eyes cold. “Invite to what?”

Norman tapped his screen. The display shifted. Lines of messages. Formal digital correspondence with crests embedded in the metadata, the modern version of wax seals.

“Alliance proposals,” Norman said. “They’ve started arriving. To your office. To your civilian household account. To the manor’s public channel. Some of them are direct. Some are… coy.”

Rafael leaned closer, eyes scanning the titles with quick, sharp comprehension.

House Wynthor requests the honor of a formal introduction…

House Caerline offers a candidate of impeccable lineage…

House Lyr has a daughter recently presented…

Rafael’s expression didn’t crack, but something in his gaze went bright and dangerous. “They’re offering you omegas like a job opening.”

“They’re offering you a Duchess,” Norman corrected quietly. “And they think the position is vacant.”

Silence stretched.

Outside the study, the manor remained perfect with quiet staff, filtered light, ether dampening in the walls, and security humming like a second heartbeat. Inside, the air felt denser, as if the rumor itself had taken physical space.

Gregoris looked at Rafael then. Just to check, the way he always did now: color, posture, eyes. Is he calm? Is he hurt? Is he angry?

Rafael met his gaze with cool composure that didn’t quite conceal the sharpness underneath. “Say something,” he murmured, like a challenge and a request at once.

Gregoris turned back to Norman, and the decision was immediate.

“Redirect every proposal to legal,” Gregoris said. “Automated decline. Shut it down.”

Norman nodded. “Yes, Commander.”

“And flag the houses that pushed too hard,” Gregoris continued, calm as a blade. “I want a list. Anyone using my name to create pressure gets remembered.”

Norman’s fingers moved quickly. “Understood.”

Rafael’s voice cut in, soft but edged. “You know, I should have taken your offer and let you deal with her.”

Gregoris scoffed softly. “I’ve warned her to not touch you or try to meet you. She is simply attempting to find a way around it. She hopes that you will look for her first.”

“Is that so?” Rafael moved from the side of the desk until he was right beside Gregoris. “Then maybe we should have the announcement earlier.”

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