Cecil chose the imperial office because he was in no mood to stage this conversation anywhere softer.

If he had waited in Gabriel’s private sitting room, the atmosphere would have made it too domestic. If he had chosen Damian’s strategy chamber, it would have looked like a declaration of war. The office, however, sat in the middle of both worlds: imperial enough to matter, personal enough to make a point.

So he stood there and waited, one hand in the pocket of his coat, the other visible for a reason.

The ring caught the late afternoon light every time he moved his fingers.

He did not pace. He was not nervous. Cecil did not become nervous before difficult conversations. He became colder. By the time the office doors finally opened, he looked less like a son about to inform his parents of a life decision and more like a prince preparing to issue terms.

Gabriel entered first, still removing his gloves from whatever meeting had delayed them, elegant and sharp in the way he always was when he had spent the last hour tolerating other people’s incompetence. Damian came in behind him, one hand still holding a report, his expression unreadable in that infuriatingly calm way that meant he had noticed everything already.

Both of them saw Cecil.

Neither of them looked surprised to find him there.

Gabriel’s gaze moved over him once and narrowed by a fraction. "That posture usually means paperwork, violence, or a sentence I don’t want to hear."

Cecil did not waste time.

"I marked Frederik," he said. "I’m marrying him."

He lifted his left hand.

The ring gleamed.

Silence settled across the office.

It was enough for Gabriel and Damian to look at the ring, then at Cecil, then at each other.

Cecil already disliked that look.

It was the look parents gave each other when their child arrived prepared for a dramatic confrontation, and they, unfortunately, had years of context.

Gabriel let the second glove slip free into his hand and stared at Cecil for another beat. Then he crossed the room, sat down on the sofa near the low table, reached for the coffee that had been left there before their meeting, and took a slow sip.

Damian lowered the report in his hand and looked at Cecil with complete calm.

"That took long enough," he said.

Cecil stared at him.

For one brief, deeply irritating second, he genuinely had no response.

Gabriel, still holding the cup, glanced at him over the rim. "You sound disappointed."

"I am disappointed," Cecil said flatly. "This was meant to be a serious announcement."

"It is," Gabriel said.

He took another drink of coffee.

Cecil looked from one parent to the other, visibly unconvinced by their complete failure to react with the proper degree of gravity.

"I marked him," Cecil repeated.

"Yes," Damian said. "You’ve been threatening that outcome since you were seventeen."

"That is not the same thing."

"No," Gabriel said. "Back then you were making all of us suffer through your phrasing before doing anything useful."

Cecil’s eyes narrowed.

A year ago had, admittedly, not gone well.

Or rather, it had gone exactly as intended until Gabriel had made the mistake of being in hearing range while Cecil, in a moment of perfectly justified irritation, had asked whether a hidden mark on Frederik’s dick would satisfy the palace’s obsession with discretion if everyone was so terrified of visible claims.

That was a month after Cecil threatened to do it when he found out from Gabriel that alphas could be marked anywhere.

Gabriel had nearly dropped an entire file.

Arik, who had been in the room at the time and usually possessed a stronger threshold for other people’s insanity, had given Cecil a long sideways look that might have meant many things but had very clearly included, ’Why are you like this?’

Damian had found the entire thing much too amusing.

Cecil still considered those conversations productive.

Gabriel clearly did not.

"You are both being deeply unhelpful," Cecil said.

Gabriel set the coffee down at last, though not because he looked shaken. If anything, he looked more awake now.

"Cecil," he said, with the dry patience of a man who had already survived too many versions of this exact discussion, "you have considered Frederik yours since childhood."

Cecil said nothing.

Because that part was true.

From the first meeting, from the first time Frederik had looked at him without flinching or posturing or pretending, something in Cecil had settled on him and never moved again. It had not always been rational. It had not always been convenient. It had certainly never been subtle. But it had always been there.

Damian folded his arms. "The only part of this situation that qualifies as news is the ring."

"And the mark," Cecil said.

Damian lifted one brow. "Barely."

Gabriel’s mouth twitched. "You and Frederik have been each other’s heat and rut partners since seventeen. Do you really think the mark was the unpredictable part?"

That was the problem with parents who were both clever and observant. They ruined the performance value of everything.

Cecil exhaled slowly through his nose. "This is not only about sex."

Gabriel looked offended on principle. "I would hope not."

"I’m not hiding him."

Gabriel leaned back into the sofa, one ankle crossing over the other. Damian’s expression remained calm, but Cecil knew better.

Cecil held both of their gazes.

"I asked for a hidden mark a year ago because I was trying to make the palace tolerable," he said. "I don’t care about tolerance anymore. I marked him where everyone can see it. I’m marrying him. Anyone who has a problem with that can develop a private illness."

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly.

When he opened them again, there was a faint hint of old amusement, which only made his face more dangerous.

"There he is," Gabriel murmured.

Cecil frowned. "Who?" 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"The son I raised badly."

Damian’s mouth twitched.

Cecil ignored both of them with dignity.

"He let me choose how this was told to you," he continued. "I’m telling you now. I am not asking."

Gabriel lifted a brow. "That part is obvious."

Damian moved at last, setting the report aside and crossing the room until he stood directly in front of Cecil.

For a moment he said nothing.

Cecil did not look away.

He had inherited too much from Damian to ever lower his gaze first in a moment like this and enough from Gabriel to know exactly how dangerous silence could be when used properly.

Then Damian asked, very simply, "Do you love him?"

Cecil’s answer came without hesitation.

"Yes."

Damian nodded once, as if confirming something he had already known for years and merely required to be said aloud.

"Good," he said.

Across the room, Gabriel picked up his coffee again. "And does Frederik still want late autumn, or have you already tried to speed up the calendar by brute force?"

Cecil stared at him. "You knew that too."

Gabriel looked almost offended. "Cecil. Half your emotional life has been readable since childhood. The other half was ruined by the fact that you are incapable of wanting quietly."

"I can want quietly."

"No," Damian said.

Cecil turned to him. "I absolutely can."

"You once announced," Gabriel said, with the deadly calm of a man quoting trauma, "’if I can’t put a visible mark on him, I’ll put one somewhere the court doesn’t get a vote on.’"

Cecil did not blink.

"That was a reasonable sentence."

Gabriel laughed once.

Damian looked less amused, but only because he was putting in more effort.

"That," Gabriel said, "was the moment I realized I was no longer being punished for my own youth. I was being punished for surviving long enough to raise yours."

Cecil folded his hands behind his back because otherwise he might have gestured, and he was trying to preserve some remnant of princely composure.

"This Chapter of family memory is not relevant."

"It is entirely relevant," Gabriel said. "It explains why neither of us is shocked that you finally bit him."

"I did more than bite him."

Damian actually made a low sound that might have been a laugh and immediately disguised it as a breath.

Gabriel pointed a finger at Cecil without spilling his coffee. "This is why the gods abandoned subtlety when they made you."

Cecil decided, not for the first time, that being right in a family full of intelligent people was a miserable experience because they never let him enjoy it in peace.

"I came here," he said, slower now, "because I thought you should hear it from me before Rafael heard it from a corridor and turned it into a civic celebration."

At that, Gabriel visibly conceded the point.

"Yes," he said. "That was wise."

"Suspiciously wise," Damian added.

Cecil narrowed his eyes. "I am wise."

"Sometimes," Gabriel said.