Chapter 417: Chapter 417

The Fitzgeralt manor had never known this kind of quiet.

Not the heavy, echoing stillness of wealth or discipline, it was the gentler kind, soft and domestic, threaded with the faint scent of coffee and linen detergent. Outside, the winter light stretched across the estate’s terraces, gleaming off the pale stone and the glass veranda where frost still clung like lace. Inside, everything was warm, deliberate, and absurdly expensive. Google seaʀᴄh novelFɪre.net

Lucas sat curled in one of the living room armchairs, a blanket draped over his lap and their son resting against his chest. The cardigan he wore was cashmere, undoubtedly Trevor’s, soft enough to feel like a bribe for getting out of bed that morning.

Sebastian, only days old, was asleep again. He had been asleep for most of his life so far, waking only to eat, blink once at the world with mild confusion, and immediately return to unconscious perfection. Lucas had started referring to him as the illusion of parenthood: silent, perfect, and entirely too good to be real.

Across from him, Mia stood with a coffee cup she didn’t seem to remember holding, watching the scene like it offended her slightly.

"So," she said at last, breaking the hush. "You’re really just... sitting here? With a newborn? And it’s quiet?"

Lucas didn’t look up. "Mm."

"Quiet as in he’s sleeping quietly? "

"No screaming? No crying? No sudden existential crises at three in the morning?"

Lucas’s lips curved faintly. "Not yet."

Mia blinked, incredulous. "He’s a week old, Lucas. That’s not a child; that’s a luxury subscription."

Lucas smiled, tracing a finger absently over Sebastian’s dark hair. "He gets that from Trevor. Quiet. Efficient. Inconveniently perfect."

"Perfect," Mia repeated, deadpan. "Of course. You would get the world’s first designer baby."

At that moment, the door opened behind her, and Trevor appeared, fresh from a shower, immaculate in a dark shirt and casual slacks, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He looked like a billionaire pretending to be on paternity leave, though the faint looseness in his hair and the subtle exhaustion in his eyes betrayed otherwise.

He crossed the room in a few unhurried strides, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Lucas’s temple before glancing at Mia. "Still auditing us?"

"I’m waiting for proof that either of you are human," Mia said, gesturing to the peacefully sleeping infant. "You’re aware most new parents look like they’ve gone through a minor apocalypse?"

Trevor poured himself coffee from the tray Windstone had set earlier, his movements oddly elegant. "We have staff," he said simply.

"That’s not an excuse," Mia countered.

"It’s a system," Trevor corrected, dead serious.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Don’t encourage him."

"I’m not sure I can stop him," Mia muttered. "He looks like a man who’s about to make spreadsheets for diaper changes."

Trevor glanced up, completely unbothered. "Already done."

There was a pause. Mia stared at him, then turned back to Lucas. "He’s joking, right?"

Lucas adjusted Sebastian’s blanket with the composure of someone used to this level of insanity. "He is, but he color-coded feeding schedules."

"That’s... excessive..." Mia set the cup down and made herself comfortable on the couch. "Are you going to test him for his secondary gender?" She asked in the end.

Lucas’s head lifted immediately. The humor vanished from his eyes. "Did Lucius put you up to that question?"

Mia blinked, caught mid-sip. "What? No... well, not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Lucas repeated, voice deceptively calm.

She winced. "He might have... wondered aloud. And I might have promised to ask casually if the subject came up."

Trevor didn’t even look up from his coffee. "It didn’t."

"Clearly," Mia muttered.

Lucas leaned back in his chair, studying her with a level of patience that made her fidget. "Tell your fiancé he’ll see his nephew when we decide, and not a minute before."

"And that includes my dear Crown Prince brother and the Emperor himself," he added, his tone as smooth as it was final. "They’ve been circling since the day Sebastian was born. I’m not letting anyone turn him into an heir-shaped trophy before he learns to smile."

Trevor set his cup down, voice mild but firm. "We’ve already declined two formal requests for introductions and one offer to ’host a family luncheon.’"

Mia blinked. "That last one was from Caelan, wasn’t it?"

Lucas gave her a look. "Who else schedules luncheons through diplomatic channels?"

Mia groaned softly. "You’re living in a political soap opera."

Lucas’s tone was dry. "We’re married to one."

Trevor’s mouth twitched. "Accurate."

Mia eyed the baby. "You do realize they’re not going to stop asking. Sirius already called Lucius twice this week. And your father..."

"My father," Lucas interrupted gently, "can practice patience for once in his life."

Mia hesitated, but the quiet conviction in his voice made her drop it. "All right. Message received. I’ll tell Lucius to keep his curiosity in his inbox, but they are disappointed that Serathine, Cressida, and I could visit while they are excluded."

Lucas’s lips curved faintly, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. "They’re not excluded," he said, adjusting Sebastian’s blanket with slow precision. "They’re simply not invited yet. There’s a difference."

Mia gave him a look somewhere between exasperation and amusement. "You do realize that’s exactly the kind of thing that makes Lucius grind his teeth, right?"

"That’s why I phrased it like that," Lucas replied smoothly.

Trevor, without looking up from his coffee, added in that calm, even tone that made subtext sound like strategy, "Serathine and Cressida visited because they came as family, not as envoys. The distinction seems to confuse certain people in the palace."

"Certain people," Mia repeated, dryly. "You mean the Emperor and two of his heirs?"

"Exactly," Lucas said, voice soft but laced with amusement. "Cressida came because she wanted to bring gifts. Serathine came because she refuses to miss an event that could be turned into gossip. And you..." he paused, eyeing her over the rim of his cup, "you came because you’re reckless enough to brave the Fitzgeralt household unannounced."

Mia grinned, unabashed. "Someone had to check if you were still alive."

Trevor’s mouth twitched. "We’re surviving."

"Thriving," Lucas corrected mildly. "It’s much more irritating to the royal court that way."

Mia groaned softly, dragging a hand through her hair. "You do realize you’re both going to cause an international tantrum when you finally decide to show that baby in public?"

"That’s precisely why we’re waiting," Lucas murmured. "Let them stew. It builds character."

Trevor hummed in quiet agreement, his gaze softening as he looked down at Sebastian, still sleeping, unbothered by politics, legacy, or the empire that awaited outside their gates. "We’re not in a hurry," he said simply.

Lucas nodded once, his tone almost serene. "They’ll see him when he’s ready. Not before."

Mia sighed, shaking her head. "You two are impossible."

Lucas smiled faintly. "That’s why it works."

The fire crackled softly in the background. The baby’s small hand twitched once in his sleep, brushing against the edge of Lucas’s cardigan, calm, safe, and entirely unaware that half the imperial line was waiting just to catch a glimpse of him.

"Tell Lucius," Lucas added at last, his tone deceptively mild, "that if he wants a photo, he can write a formal request through the usual channels. I’ll have Trevor reject it personally."

Trevor didn’t even look up. "Gladly."

Mia groaned into her hands. "I’m surrounded by tyrants."

Lucas chuckled softly, the warmth returning to his voice. "No, Mia. You’re surrounded by parents."