CHAPTER 429: CHAPTER 429: A BABY, A BIRTHDAY, AND ONE VERY PATIENT ALPHA.

Lucas barely waited for the door to shut before shrugging off the jacket Serathine had approved with all the benevolence of a war general.

"Off," he muttered, stripping the fabric like it owed him money. "I want that burned."

Behind him, Trevor stepped inside more slowly, still in full gala attire. His tie was loosened, his cufflinks half-undone, and his expression annoyingly fond.

"That bad?"

Lucas took a while to answer. He was too busy kicking off his shoes with one foot while unbuttoning his shirt with the other hand. Somewhere in the background, the palace AI murmured a quiet greeting and offered to play something soothing. Lucas declined. Loudly.

"I made it five hours, Trevor. Five. Without saying anything wildly inappropriate or pushing a noble into the cake. I deserve sainthood."

"You did push one into a corner with Mia," Trevor pointed out.

"She asked for it. And Mia needed the entertainment."

Trevor hummed, a smile ghosting at the edges of his mouth. "Still. You survived."

Lucas exhaled. "Barely."

He paused at the end of the hallway and turned, finally catching Trevor’s gaze properly. "Did you even get to eat?"

"No," Trevor said, stepping closer. "And I didn’t get to talk to my spouse either, in case you forgot."

Lucas blinked, then winced. "Right. Sorry. There were... people."

"There were," Trevor agreed, brushing his fingers lightly against Lucas’s wrist. "Still are. But not in here."

Lucas hesitated for half a second, then tugged Trevor toward the nursery with a simple, "Come on."

—

The nursery was warm and dim, lit by the soft glow of the moon through the curtains and the faint hum of the nightlight shaped like a very smug-looking duck.

Lucas stepped in first.

And there he was.

Their son.

Four months old. Tiny fists curled near his chin, lashes dark and impossibly long against his cheeks, breathing soft and even in the quiet. His favorite blanket, embroidered with tiny sheep, was kicked halfway down his legs.

Lucas walked straight over and leaned on the crib railing, watching.

There was nothing imperial about it. Nothing grand.

Just a baby. Safe in his parents’ arms, deep in a peaceful sleep.

Trevor stood behind him.

Lucas didn’t look away from their son when he said, "I didn’t want a party."

"I know."

"I wanted this."

"I know that too."

Lucas exhaled slowly. "I don’t like sharing him. Or you."

Trevor leaned forward, brushing his mouth gently against Lucas’s temple. "You don’t have to."

Lucas glanced sideways at that. "You’re going to be unbearably smug about this moment, aren’t you?"

"I’m already smug," Trevor said, unapologetic. "You’re lucky I didn’t print a t-shirt."

Lucas huffed, lips twitching despite himself. He reached down into the crib, careful and practiced, and scooped up the warm, sleepy bundle now making a soft sound of protest.

Their son blinked up at him with heavy-lidded confusion, clearly deciding whether to complain or go back to sleep.

Lucas settled into the rocking chair in the corner, blanket draped around them both, as the baby yawned and wriggled until his head found Lucas’s shoulder.

Trevor came over after a beat and crouched beside them, one hand resting lightly on Lucas’s knee.

The baby gave a tiny hiccup. Then a sigh.

Lucas didn’t speak for a long moment.

"I know I’m supposed to be grateful," he murmured, "but if I have to hear one more noble say ’enjoy it while he’s this small,’ I’m going to throw someone into the koi pond."

Trevor smiled, his teeth making it a little too evil-looking. "You can do whatever you want, love; I can hide the body anytime."

Lucas snorted. "You say that too casually."

Trevor tilted his head. "You say it like you didn’t mean it."

Lucas didn’t answer. Just tightened his arms a little, felt the solid warmth of his son tucked against his chest, one small hand curled into the fabric of his shirt like it had been stitched there on purpose.

The baby sighed again. Possibly dreaming of something noble and absurd, like overthrowing naptime or conquering the bottle.

Trevor’s hand moved slowly along Lucas’s knee, thumb tracing a familiar path.

"You were incredible tonight," he said after a beat, voice softer now. "Everyone could see it."

"I didn’t want them to."

"I know."

Lucas leaned back in the rocker, eyes half-lidded, a tired kind of peace threading through his chest. "I just wanted to come home to this. You. Him. No expectations. No speeches. No commentary on what I wore or which royal relative is drunk enough to start quoting foreign poetry."

Trevor smirked. "That was Caelan. And to be fair, it was accurate foreign poetry."

"I don’t care if it was ancient prophecy. He ruined my dessert."

Trevor huffed a laugh, then leaned in just enough to press a kiss to the side of Lucas’s throat. "You have me now. And cake. We smuggled a piece in."

Lucas blinked. "We?"

"Windstone. He’s an accomplice now."

"I’ll put him in the will."

Trevor’s smile widened. "He’s already in mine."

The baby shifted slightly, then settled again with the kind of grumble only infants could make without sounding ridiculous. Lucas brushed his knuckles gently along his son’s back, then looked down at Trevor again.

"You owe me next year," he said quietly. "No ballroom. No piano solos. No lace. Just a blanket, a beach, and a bribe-worthy amount of pancakes."

Trevor met his gaze. "Deal."

"And maybe," Lucas added, "ten minutes where I don’t have to share you with diplomats."

Trevor leaned up and kissed him properly this time, slow and sure, a kiss that made Lucas forget the ache in his shoulders and the weight of too many polite conversations.

When they pulled apart, Trevor rested his forehead lightly against Lucas’s and whispered, "Then I want ten minutes too. Just like this."

Lucas exhaled. "We’re terrible at compromise."

Trevor’s hand moved to cradle the baby’s head alongside Lucas’s. "We’re excellent at priorities."

And for once, Lucas didn’t have a comeback.

He just sat there, with his alpha on one side and his son sleeping in his arms, the night finally quiet around them.

Happy birthday to him.