[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 92: Honeymoon to Saha (1)

Chapter 92: Chapter 92: Honeymoon to Saha (1)

The descent was smooth—too smooth.

Lucas barely felt the wheels touch down, the plane gliding across the tarmac like it hadn’t traveled hundreds of kilometers in a matter of hours. The clouds outside had thinned into sunset, the skyline already bleeding gold into violet—too poetic to be accidental.

He sat back in his seat, composed, hands folded neatly in his lap. The rest of the cabin stirred with efficient movement. A steward passed by with a wordless nod. One of Trevor’s aides murmured confirmation into an earpiece. Windstone was already standing.

Of course he was.

"Convoy is in position," he said crisply. "Route to the palace has been cleared. Local wards refreshed twice. Sahan guard rotation reviewed and duplicated. Trevor, your security has accepted our override."

Trevor glanced up from his tablet, calm as ever. "Expected."

Lucas said nothing but noted the phrasing.

Not requested. Not negotiated.

Overridden.

The door hissed open with a soft hydraulic sigh. Warm, dry air spilled inside, thick with Saha’s desert-border sharpness and the faint sting of crushed spice on the wind. Even the air here felt designed.

Lucas rose without waiting to be told.

They stepped onto the tarmac into a sunlit world that looked carved from stone and conquest. The landing strip was pristine. The cars were already waiting—sleek, black, and glassed like high-end armor. Soldiers stood at perfect intervals, their uniforms tailored, their rifles ceremonial but loaded.

This wasn’t just a diplomatic welcome.

It was theater.

The convoy moved like a rehearsed dance. Twelve vehicles. Five decoys. One armored lead car and another for false dignitaries. Lucas and Trevor took the third—the heart of the arrangement, flanked on both sides by identical models. Windstone entered the fourth, already reading off arrival protocol.

The ride to the palace was short and heavily monitored. Crowds had been kept away, likely by Dax’s command. No cameras. No reporters. Just the hum of engines, the golden sheen of late sun across Sahan’s royal district, and the slow, deliberate climb of anticipation.

And then, the gates.

Wide. Wrought in dark metal. Etched with ancient symbols Lucas didn’t recognize, flanked by guards in robes dyed deep violet and steel.

The motorcade passed through them like a blade sliding into its sheath.

They stopped at the grand entry steps—black marble edged in bronze, each one wide enough to be its own stage. A flag rippled in the wind: the crest of Saha, sharp and layered, crowned by three burning stars.

Trevor stepped out of the car first, then turned to Lucas with an extended hand.

Lucas hesitated for only half a second before placing his hand in Trevor’s. The contact was warm, steady—familiar now.

He stepped out of the vehicle with practiced grace, one polished shoe touching the marble like a signature. The Sahan sun kissed the line of his jaw, the violet shimmer of his ring catching the light as he let go of Trevor’s hand just before they reached the base of the stairs.

At the top of the wide bronze-edged steps stood King Evrin Dax—motionless, elegant, and far too silent for someone with that many soldiers behind him.

Lucas had never seen a man like this.

Trevor was impressive alone—dangerous in the quiet way storms are, all calculation and restraint—but Dax...

Dax had something else.

It wasn’t just presence. It wasn’t the armor of breeding or the sharpness of tailored robes or the deliberate stillness of a practiced ruler. NovelFire

It was behind his eyes.

The same violet shade as Trevor’s—but colder. Older. Less human.

Where Trevor’s gaze held weight, Dax’s held pressure. Not like gravity, but like a hand against your throat, deciding whether or not to squeeze.

Lucas met that gaze across the marble divide and felt—not fear—but awareness. The kind of awareness that made instinct rise in the back of the mind like a shield. Something old in his blood shifted, unsettled.

That was the difference.

Trevor could kill a room with a look.

Dax could make the room want to die for him.

And Lucas had no intention of doing either.

Dax didn’t move to greet them. He didn’t smile as Lucas approached, not fully. He just watched, like the world was finally offering him the most curious thing he’d ever been promised.

Trevor came to a halt three steps from the summit, enough to observe protocol without appearing submissive. He inclined his head.

"Your Majesty," he said.

"Grand Duke," Dax returned evenly, with that low, deliberate cadence that made every word feel sharp-edged. "And the Grand Duchess."

Lucas stepped forward, level with Trevor now. He then bowed—elegantly, deliberately—not too deep, not too fast. Just enough to acknowledge station without conceding anything more.

When he rose, his expression was smooth marble—polished, still, impossible to read.

Dax’s gaze flicked, noting the precision. The restraint. The way Lucas offered just enough to be unimpeachable... and not an inch more.

"King Evrin," Lucas said. His voice was clear, not loud. Smooth as tempered steel. "Saha is lovely in the evening."

That made Dax’s mouth twitch. Just slightly.

"Only when the right guests arrive," Dax replied.

Behind them, Windstone made a quiet note on his tablet.

Dax noticed. Of course he did.

But he said nothing about it. Instead, he took one step forward. Just one. Down toward them. Toward Lucas.

"It’s good to see the Empire finally remembers how to send something beautiful," he said, gaze lingering just a breath too long.

Lucas didn’t blink. "We sent Trevor."

Dax’s smile was slow now, curved with something that almost passed for admiration. "Ah," he said. "So you’re the dangerous one."

"Your Grace," Dax said, addressing Lucas directly now. "I confess, I had my doubts."

Lucas lifted an eyebrow, just slightly. "About the marriage?"

Dax smiled faintly. "About the fire."

Lucas didn’t flinch. "You expected someone softer."

"I expected someone claimed."

Trevor didn’t react—but Windstone, two steps behind, stopped writing mid-sentence.

Lucas’s smile was cool. "And you thought I wasn’t?" View the correct content at NovelFire.

Dax’s eyes glinted. "You’re not wearing a collar."

Lucas met that gaze squarely. "Would you?"

Dax chuckled, low and amused. "Touché."

Trevor rested his hand on Lucas’s waist with the clear intention of diverting Dax’s attention.

"Are you done testing him?" he asked, voice deceptively calm. "Or should we return to Palantine?"