Chapter 149: Fit to Rule (1)

The sun had shifted west by the time Gabriel returned from the glass house. The scent of tea and garden roses lingered faintly on his sleeves, and his thoughts were quieter than usual—unsettled not by politics or threats, but by compassion.

Crista Lyon had been... warm. Open. Practical in a way that disarmed him. And she reminded him of the life he could have had if things had been different. If his own mother had laughed, hugged, and judged less.

And now he had to process it with Damian, of all people.

He found the Emperor exactly where he expected him to be: stretched out on the fainting couch in his private study, boots off, collar loosened, and a book draped across his chest as if he had been pretending to read but gave up halfway.

The fire was already lit and the room carried the faint scent of Damian. Edward replaced the chaise with one that was too narrow for two people. 

"I lived," Gabriel announced.