The morning light filtered through polarized glass, softened by the shimmer of the ether-wards that kept the Capital skyline humming in the distance. Gabriel sat in one of the low chairs by the window wall, robe loose at the collar, an ether-slate propped on his knee scrolling with reports from the border stations.

Damian was already gone, training with his Shadows before the city stirred. That left Gabriel alone with Arik, who had long since declared himself king of the study.

Eight months old and already imperious, the boy sprawled comfortably across Gabriel's lap, tiny fists busy. One hand tugged insistently at Gabriel's hair, the other gnawed happily on his father's necklace. The grey-gold chain gleamed wet in the morning light as Arik drooled over it like a prize won in battle.

Gabriel kept signing reports with neat strokes of his pen, ignoring the babbling stream of sounds tumbling out of his son's mouth. "No, you can't have the slate. And no, chewing the necklace will not qualify you for governance."

Arik kicked against his thigh, golden eyes flashing as though he understood perfectly well that he wasn't being taken seriously. The babbling grew louder, sharper, and more demanding.

Gabriel hummed absently, scrolling to the next set of numbers.

Then came the shout, clear, decisive, and impatient:

"Mama!"

The pen froze mid-stroke. Gabriel's head snapped down, wide eyes meeting the small, furious glare of a child who very much wanted attention.

Before he could react, the door slid open with a quiet hiss. Edward entered first, already speaking, "Your Excellency, the morning schedule has been…" Only to stop dead at the scene.

Damian followed, still in black training gear, dark hair damp from exertion. His gaze landed on Arik, on the triumphant little face with golden eyes alight, and for a heartbeat the whole room stilled.

Arik crowed again, clutching Gabriel's necklace tight in his fist. "Mama!"

Edward coughed hard into his fist, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Well… that's clear."

Damian went very still, then his lips curved, slow and incredulous, pride burning through his exhaustion. He stepped closer, voice pitched low, warm as sunlight.

"He called you."

Gabriel groaned, tilting his head back against the chair as if appealing to the ceiling. "Out of all the words, he chooses that one."

Arik squealed, golden eyes bright as he kicked again, proud of his victory.

Damian's laugh was quiet but full, rare enough to shake Gabriel out of his exasperation. He bent, pressing a kiss against Arik's messy hair, then another against Gabriel's temple.

"What did you expect?" Damian murmured, his voice low, edged with pride. "He would never sleep without something that has your scent on it."

Gabriel groaned, dragging a hand down his face as Arik resumed chewing on the chain of his necklace. "So instead of papa, I get saddled with mama because he drools on my shirts and steals my clothes."

Damian's smile widened, golden eyes glinting with amusement. "It's fitting. You keep him alive, calm him, and carry him half the night. The court will think it poetic."

Gabriel shot him a flat look. "The court will think it hilarious. Alexandra will make sure of it."

Arik babbled as if agreeing, then tugged hard at Gabriel's hair, earning a sharp wince.

Damian straightened, rocking their son from Gabriel's lap into his own arms, settling the boy easily against his chest. "Then let them laugh," he said simply. "He named you first. No one can take that from you."

Gabriel watched the way Arik nestled into Damian's shoulder, still holding fast to the chain of his necklace as if unwilling to surrender his claim. A reluctant smile curved his mouth.

"I should have expected it," he admitted softly. "He always knows what he wants and how to get it."

Damian's thumb brushed the back of his hand, grounding, certain. "He's ours. How could he be anything else?"

Arik gurgled, golden eyes half-lidded as sleep finally began to tug at him, the chain still clenched in his fist.

Gabriel sighed, letting his head fall back against the chair, exhaustion finally winning. "Fine. He can call me whatever he wants. As long as he stops yelling."

Damian adjusted the baby against his chest, his movements instinctive now, as though he had always carried the weight of both empire and child. He glanced down at Gabriel, the faintest curve touching his mouth. "That's the first surrender I've ever seen you give."

Gabriel cracked one eye open, his tone dry. "Don't get used to it. It's temporary. Like peace treaties."

Damian laughed quietly, the sound deep and warm. "Temporary or not, he chose you first. That will never fade."

Gabriel's lips twitched, half a smile breaking through his exhaustion. He reached over, brushing his fingers briefly across Arik's chubby fist still clamped tight around the necklace. "If he lets go before he turns eighteen, it will be a miracle."

Arik stirred, gave one soft whine, then burrowed deeper into Damian's shoulder with the stubborn determination of a prince claiming his place.

Damian leaned down, his voice barely more than a murmur against Gabriel's hair. "He won't let go of you, Gabriel. Neither of us ever will."

Gabriel closed his eyes again, letting the words settle into the quiet like a promise. For the first time since the coronation, the weight of crowns felt lighter.

—

The peace didn't last.

The study doors slid open with unnecessary force, the sound too brisk, too loud for the stillness of the afternoon. Alexandra swept inside in a flash of silk and perfume, emerald earrings catching the light, her heels sharp against the polished floor.

"I heard," she announced, not bothering with greetings, her voice ringing like a battle cry. "Edward told me. My nephew's first word."

Gabriel groaned into his hand. "Edward will regret surviving last night."

Damian's brow arched, golden gaze sliding toward his sister-in-law with the patience of a man who had survived battlefields and knew when one was coming. "Alexandra."

But she was already crossing the room, skirts swishing like banners in motion, determination in every step. "Do you know what this means?" she demanded, pointing imperiously at the bundle drowsing on Damian's shoulder.

Gabriel muttered, "That the universe enjoys my suffering."

"No," Alexandra snapped, though her lips twitched. "It means I have an opportunity. If he can say 'mama' for you, little brother, then he can say Al for me."

Damian's mouth curved faintly, dangerous and amused. "You'd try to overwrite papa with yourself?"

Alexandra planted her hands on her hips. "Of course. Do you think I'll stand by while he calls you papa and me nothing at all? Absolutely not. He'll say Al next. It's short, easy, and perfectly chic." She leaned closer to Arik, lowering her voice to a coaxing lilt. "Arik, darling, say Al. Aaal. Just like that."

The baby cracked one golden eye open at the sound of her voice, considered it, then shoved his drool-soaked fist deeper into Damian's shirt.

Gabriel snorted. "There. Your empire just collapsed."

"Not yet," Alexandra declared, undeterred. "I have determination, patience, and a far better wardrobe than either of you. He'll say Al before he says papa, mark my words."

Damian adjusted his son, utterly unbothered, his golden eyes glinting with suppressed laughter. "If you succeed, Alexandra, I'll sign over half the Capital in tribute."

Gabriel leaned his head back against the chair, exhausted but faintly smiling. "Go ahead and try, sister. You'll lose. He knows what he wants. And what he wants," his eyes flicked to Damian, then to the child, "is us."

Arik gurgled once, content, as if sealing the truth.