[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 149: Dax is bored

Chapter 149: Chapter 149: Dax is bored

The morning was calm, almost unnaturally so.

Soft light filtered through the gauzy curtains of the royal guest suite, brushing against the open suitcases arranged with quiet efficiency. The palace attendants had already come and gone, their movements careful, their voices hushed. Lucas sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his watch into place with slow, practiced ease, while Trevor stood near the tall mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his pale grey jacket with military precision.

Trevor’s fingers paused briefly at his collar. "I arranged the car for noon," he said. "We’ll be at the estate before sundown if we don’t stop."

Lucas didn’t look up. "You’re forgetting one thing."

Trevor raised a brow. "No, I’m not."

As if summoned by fate and bad timing, the suite door opened without a knock.

"You’re not leaving without a proper goodbye," Dax announced as he strolled in, all polished boots, bold rings, and the effortless chaos of a man who made rules only to ignore them.

Trevor didn’t flinch. "You could knock."

"I own the door," Dax replied with a grin, then turned to Lucas. "And you, Grand Duchess, owe me a final meal before you flee Saha like thieves in the daylight."

Lucas sighed, already reaching for his blazer. "I told you," he said, voice dry, "you forgot something."

Trevor didn’t respond. He just stared at Dax like he was mentally calculating the fastest route out of the country and whether it would hold up against an international tantrum.

Dax spread his arms like the answer had been obvious from the beginning. "Come now. One last lunch. Your husband has growled at every diplomat who so much as breathed in your direction. It’s my turn."

Lucas buttoned his jacket with practiced calm. "You just want an excuse to make Trevor sit through appetizers."

"I don’t need an excuse to make Trevor uncomfortable," Dax said, already walking deeper into the room like it belonged to him. "But watching him pretend to tolerate court cuisine for the sake of your honor? That’s a gift." Correct content is on NovelFire.

Trevor’s voice came sharp, low. "I’m not above stabbing you with the dessert fork."

Dax turned to him, unbothered. "And that’s the tone of a man in love."

Lucas finished straightening his sleeves, gave his reflection a brief glance, and then turned back toward both of them. "Fine. One hour. Not a minute more."

Dax smirked. "That’s all I need."

Trevor crossed the room, brushing past Dax without so much as a glance. "That’s what he said last time. It lasted four."

Dax’s laughter followed them out.

—

The dining room was quiet, sun-drenched, and entirely too elegant for three people pretending to enjoy lunch.

The table was set with crystal and gold-rimmed porcelain, fresh flowers arranged in calculated asymmetry along the center. The staff had already been dismissed. Privacy was implied, expected. Dax had chosen the room for its seclusion and its view of the southern gardens, not because he cared for the flowers, but because no one could approach it without being seen.

Lucas sat between them, one hand curled loosely around the stem of his glass, the other resting near his plate, untouched. His posture was perfect. His expression was unreadable.

"So," Trevor said, his voice light but lacking any real warmth. He reached for his glass of water, not the wine. "Would you be kind and tell me why you insisted on this lunch? I know for certain you’re not lonely."

Dax gave him a wounded look, one that would’ve worked if Trevor had even a shred of sympathy left to spare.

"I’m not lonely," Dax said, setting down his glass with deliberate care. "But I am bored."

Lucas tilted his head slightly, watching him with that steady, almost-too-still expression that had started to show up more often lately. Dangerous, in its own quiet way.

"Bored?" Lucas echoed.

"Of the world," Dax clarified. "Of the games. Of the fact that you’re both leaving and I haven’t had a single scandal to hold over your heads."

"You could always fabricate one," Trevor said smoothly. "That’s what half the court does."

"Yes," Dax sighed, "but it’s no fun when I like the people involved."

Trevor blinked once, slowly. "Are you implying you like me?"

"I like Lucas," Dax corrected. "You’re a bonus. Like a guard dog with teeth and a tragic past."

Lucas set down his glass gently. "So this was just an excuse to needle Trevor one last time?"

"Partially." Dax leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the linen-covered table. "The other part is that I wanted to see if he would actually allow Jason to follow you. And it turns out he will."

"Allow is a strong word," Trevor replied. "Tolerate is closer. Or observe, if we’re feeling generous."

"So you’re going to keep all the fun to yourself," Dax sighed, his white hair catching the sunlight like it had been dusted in silver. "At least send me the invitation to the wedding this time."

Trevor didn’t flinch. "I wasn’t aware you wanted one." NovelFire

Dax smirked. "I didn’t want the last one. I want this one."

Lucas arched a brow, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You want to attend or sabotage it?"

Dax pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Can’t it be both?"

Trevor gave him a flat look.

"My grandmother is organizing it. Negotiate with her." Trevor said, reaching for his fork.

Lucas didn’t even try to hide his amusement this time. "That’s not a negotiation; that’s a death wish."

Dax chuckled. "Ah, yes. The formidable Lady Fitzgeralt." He swirled the wine in his glass, watching the light catch on its surface. "I assume she’s planning an event that will make the Empire weep."

"She’s already making a list," Trevor said. "And enemies are being sorted like table arrangements."

Lucas added, "I’m not sure if the guest list is based on alliances or blood feuds."

"Probably both," Trevor muttered.

Dax leaned forward slightly, elbows on the edge of the table, his voice dropping just enough to suggest more than it said. "Will you let me bring a plus one?"

Trevor’s eyes narrowed. "You do not have a plus one."