Gabriel's brown eyes narrowed, his voice cutting through the stillness. "And what do you want in exchange?"

Lucius's mouth curved, faint and humorless. "Always the suspicious one." He leaned back in the chair, folding one leg over the other, the gesture measured and without haste. "Once, you would have been right. Once, I would have asked for a favor, a concession, another chain tied where no one else could see."

Gabriel's silence was sharp enough to fill the pause.

"But now?" Lucius's gaze softened, almost weary. "I have nothing left to trade for. No seat to defend. No house to steer. I gave it to Theo, and he wears it better than I ever did." His hand lifted slightly, then dropped to the armrest again. "All I want is to keep walking through these halls and hear my grandchildren laugh. That is my exchange, Gabriel. You let me close enough to be their grandfather, and I'll give you what I know."

Gabriel's lips curved, dry and thin. "You've grown sentimental in retirement."

"Perhaps," Lucius allowed, his tone calm, but his eyes steady. "Or perhaps I finally learned what was worth keeping before the ledger closed."

"Took you years and a punch from Theo."

"Deserved," Lucius admitted, lifting both hands in mock surrender, the faintest flicker of humor in his voice. It faded as his gaze dropped again to the shards. "Goliath's poisoning was… a combination of misplaced trust, revenge, and Hadeon's greed. We didn't expect it, not from that consort."

Gabriel hummed, his expression sharp. "Wasn't he from one of the conquered lands? I'd say that was reason enough."

Lucius shook his head. "No. He was from one of the spared ones, bound to the Empire, but not stripped of name or identity like the others."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. His voice, when it came, was quiet. "Wrohan."

"Yes." Lucius's voice was low, edged with something that might have been regret. "The consort was highly respected, treated with dignity, and was expected to ascend as Empress. There was no reason to suspect him. Yet he poisoned Goliath with the same poison Hadeon later tried to use on Damian."

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, one hand absently stroking the curve of his stomach, his mouth curving in something closer to disdain than surprise. "Maybe he just wanted to go back to his country and life. Not everyone wants this." He spread his arms, gesturing at the study, at the Empire itself.

"That would have been understandable," Lucius said quietly. "Kill the warlord, return to your country, and fade into peace. But that wasn't his intent. He killed Goliath's children too. Two sons, one twelve months old dominant alpha and the other barely three months old."

The words settled heavy in the study, thick as smoke.

Gabriel's eyes darkened, a flicker of something colder threading his composure. "So he tried to erase not only Goliath but also his blood."

"Indeed." Lucius's voice was steady, but his mouth thinned, his gaze lowering to the scorched runes as though they accused him. "The other three consorts were killed at the same time… and Goliath survived with his ether channels burned down to the soul, a shell of the man he was once." He paused, the silence dragging, as if the next words cost more than he had expected.

"It was supposed to be Alexandra."

Gabriel's head snapped up, suspicion cutting like a blade. "What?"

"In your place, it was supposed to be Alexandra," Lucius admitted, the words falling like lead. "But by the time we were ready to follow Goliath's plan…" He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "She was too old to change her secondary gender. You see… only a dominant omega can carry the legacy of ether."

"For fuck's sake," Gabriel swore, voice low and furious. He leaned forward, his hand braced hard against the desk, brown eyes gleaming like tempered glass. "You and Elowen had me be Goliath's carrier."

Lucius did not flinch. His voice remained level, if tired. "Yes. He chose two families for it. Ours, his loyal follower and…"

"And Lyon," Gabriel cut in, venom sharp in his tone. His mouth twisted into something halfway between a sneer and bitter laughter. "Damian. His enemy's son."

The silence that followed thrummed like a struck chord, too loud, too heavy to ignore.

Gabriel started to laugh, the sound low and bitter, breaking sharp in the stillness. "You've changed me," he said, voice threading with scorn, "and shoved me in the arms of the strategist." His gaze tore from his father and drifted to the windows, to the Capital sprawling beneath the pale light, alive and restless. His mouth curled, humorless. "He taught me strategy, ether… Fuck."

Lucius's shoulders shifted, the smallest falter in his composure. "He used Hadeon's people to make sure that it wouldn't fail." The words were steady, but guilt clung to their edges. His eyes, pale and tired, fixed on the blackened runes as though they might absorb the weight he could no longer carry. "I… I had hoped you would take the throne yourself and be away from Damian. But Goliath…" he drew in a long, uneven breath, "had a talent for manipulating fate."

Gabriel's jaw tightened, his fingers curling against the desk. "No," he murmured, sharp as glass. "He didn't manipulate fate. You did. And you never once stopped to ask if I wanted it."

Lucius's gaze held his, steady but lined with exhaustion. "I'm good at strategy, Gabriel, but you and Goliath…" His mouth pressed thin, the words landing heavy. "…you were on another level. I swore an oath, and I fulfilled it. You would have done the same. I had to choose between Hadeon taking the Empire for himself or you and Damian standing in his way. Guess which one was the better choice for the people?"

Gabriel's laugh came low and cold, carrying no real amusement. "For the people." His brown eyes narrowed, cutting. "Convenient justification, isn't it? Strip your son of choice, of self, of a life, and wrap it in an oath to the Empire. Duty makes a fine mask for cruelty."

Lucius exhaled slowly, his shoulders drawing back. "You see cruelty. I see survival." His hand hovered once more over the scorched shards, the blackened runes glinting in the lamplight. "And survival, Gabriel, is never clean."

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, one hand pressing against the swell of his stomach, grounding himself in the weight of the child he carried. His smirk was thin, bitter. "No. But don't pretend you did it for me."

"I'm not anymore." Lucius's voice was quiet, the edges stripped of command, carrying only the drag of age. "I honestly hoped that Goliath would be reincarnated in future generations, ones that would never see us, never carry our scars, and never have to know him."

Gabriel's head snapped toward him, brown eyes narrowing. "The omega is still alive?" The question cut him; shocked, his voice roughened with disbelief.