[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 199: A few more days

Chapter 199: Chapter 199: A few more days

Lucas’s grin sharpened, quiet and conspiratorial. "Only if Serathine doesn’t declare them part of her new trade routes."

Serathine’s crimson‑tipped nails traced the stem of her glass, her smile slow and feline. "I could," she said lightly, "but only if Cressida hasn’t already signed them into her budget."

Cressida didn’t even blink. She simply sipped her wine, letting the cool jade of her sleeve catch the light, and murmured, "I prefer to let men bring gifts without conditions. It’s remarkable what you get when you know how to look."

Dax laughed, genuine and unguarded, the kind of laugh that rolled through his chest and softened his kingly posture for just a breath. "Dangerous women at one end, a calculating duke at the other..." He tilted his head at Lucas, eyes gleaming. "And you, Grand Duchess, somehow holding them all in check?"

Lucas propped his chin on one hand, deceptively relaxed. "Someone has to keep the peace. Besides," he added, voice deliberately airy, "you’ve been single far too long, Your Majesty. Sooner or later, one of them will start interviewing prospects for you."

The comment landed like a pebble in still water, the ripples immediate.

Serathine’s emerald‑bright eyes flicked up, sharp and intrigued, her smile turning razor‑sweet. "Oh, that," she purred, leaning an elbow on the table. "Now there’s a thought."

Cressida’s pale brow arched, the faintest curve of interest tugging at her lips. "Dominant omega, perhaps," she mused aloud, tilting her glass thoughtfully, "or someone who won’t break too easily when Saha’s storms come."

Dax froze with his glass halfway to his lips, blinking once as the weight of both women’s gazes landed squarely on him. For a heartbeat he looked almost... human. Then that easy smile returned, though Lucas didn’t miss the slight stiffening of his shoulders.

"I see the trap you’ve set," Dax said dryly, violet eyes narrowing at Lucas even as amusement sparked beneath. "But Grand Duke Fitzgeralt took the only dominant omega available."

Lucas didn’t even flinch. He let the words settle like dust over polished silver, his own smile softening into something perilous and amused.

"Did he?" Lucas murmured, leaning back in his chair and cradling his wine glass as though he had all the time in the world. His green eyes gleamed, bright and unbothered. "Then I suppose you’ll just have to lower your standards, Your Majesty... or raise your efforts."

Serathine’s laugh came first, low, rich, delighted. "Oh, This is my ward," she said, the emerald of her gown catching the light as she tilted her head, watching Dax with predatory interest.

Cressida’s lips curved next, slow and sharp, her pale eyes narrowing like she’d just been handed a rare vintage to savor. "Careful, Serathine," she murmured, voice soft as silk and twice as cutting. "If you start parading him like a prize, you might scare our guest away before dessert."

Serathine only arched a perfect brow, emerald satin whispering as she shifted in her chair. "If the King of Saha frightens that easily, he’s unworthy of my ward’s company."

Dax set his glass down with deliberate care, violet eyes flicking between them, the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "I begin to see why Trevor warned me not to come unprepared," he said lightly, though there was a note in his voice, amused, and not entirely unwary.

Lucas swirled the wine in his glass, the motion languid. "Oh, you’ll be fine, Your Majesty," he said, his tone smooth as honey but carrying a glint of sharp amusement. "Just remember, it’s not me you need to impress anymore."

Trevor leaned back in his chair, his storm-dark gaze sweeping the table, catching Lucas’s barely disguised smirk before it softened into something fond. "If you two are finished conspiring," he drawled, "perhaps we can let our guest eat before you set the next trap."

Serathine only laughed again, low and rich, her smile wide enough to flash teeth. "Don’t be so dramatic, Trevor," she purred, lifting her glass toward Dax in a lazy salute. "We’re only getting started."

And as the servers began setting down the first course, the air at the table felt alive, bright with mischief, edged with challenge, and threaded through with the kind of quiet intrigue only those who enjoyed the game could truly savor. Dax picked up his fork, a slow grin curving his mouth as he glanced at Lucas.

They’re going to make a sport of this, he thought, amused despite himself. And damn me, but I might actually enjoy it.

—

The manor had shifted with the rhythm of departure, that quiet urgency that always came before a journey. Outside, luggage was being carried down the marble steps in careful procession, trunks embossed with the Fitzgeralt crest stacked with military precision. The evening light slanted through the tall windows of the master suite, amber and soft, catching the swirl of dust as staff moved through the hall beyond.

Trevor stood by the open wardrobe, buttoning the cuffs of a charcoal shirt, the ceremonial jacket still waiting on its hanger. Even in something simpler, the cut of the fabric was immaculate, matching the storm-dark sweep of his hair brushed back from his face. His jaw was shadowed with the beginnings of evening stubble, making him look a fraction more dangerous than usual.

Behind him, Lucas was fastening the last button on his own jacket in deep blue, a soft cream shirt with a narrow band of silver at his wrist. His blond hair had been tamed after the afternoon breeze, but a single lock refused to stay back, falling over his brow in a way that Trevor, watching him in the mirror, found far too distracting.

"You’re staring," Lucas said without looking up, sliding a folded silk pocket square into place with ease.

Trevor smirked faintly, adjusting his collar in the mirror. "You make it difficult not to."

Lucas finally met his gaze in the glass, green eyes catching the dying light. "Flattery now? What are you plotting?"

Trevor stepped closer, smoothing the line of Lucas’s lapel, his fingers lingering just long enough to make Lucas narrow his eyes. "Plotting? No. Just thinking about how you’ll look stepping out in front of every camera at the estate."

Lucas huffed softly, leaning back against the edge of the dresser as he reached for his cufflinks. "You’re enjoying this far too much."

Trevor’s smile deepened, slow, as he fixed the last button on Lucas’s sleeve for him, his touch steady and warm. "Of course I am. They’ll all be watching you. And I’ll be right there to remind them who you belong to."

Lucas’s lips curved, amused despite himself. "Possessive much?"

"Always," Trevor murmured, leaning in just enough that Lucas felt his breath against his ear.

A knock on the door broke the moment, Windstone’s voice, calm and composed, filtering through.

"Your Graces, the car is ready. The route is secured."

Trevor straightened, reaching for his coat and sliding into it with the ease of a man born to command. Lucas followed, adjusting his own cuffs one last time. Together, they crossed the suite, Trevor pausing only long enough to rest a hand briefly at the small of Lucas’s back as they stepped out into the corridor.

The manor hummed behind them as they descended the stairs, staff bowing their heads as they passed. Outside, the evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of lavender from the gardens. The sleek black car waited at the foot of the steps, its polished surface reflecting the soft light of lanterns strung along the drive.

Trevor opened the door for him, leaning close enough that only Lucas could hear. The door of the car shut with a soft click, and as the vehicle rolled forward down the lantern-lit drive, the manor faded behind them, and ahead, waiting across the miles, was the estate that would hold their public vows.

A few more days.