[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega Chapter 414: Sebastian Vale Fitzgeralt

By noon, Lucas had moved into a suite that had clearly changed since the last ti he saw it.

What had started as a standard private recovery room had, by so miraculous reshuffling of schedules and discreet signatures, beco the VVIP suite. The walls glead, the glass was soundproofed, and the quiet hum of the city below felt several worlds away. Lucas suspected it had less to do with availability and more to do with Trevor’s ability to make availability appear out of thin air.

"Tell again," Lucas murmured, his voice still a little rough but threaded with amusent as he adjusted his position against the pillows, "how this happened?"

Trevor, seated in the armchair beside the bed with their newborn sleeping in his arms, didn’t look up. "What?"

"This room," Lucas said, gesturing faintly to the polished floors, the floral arrangents, and the fact that Fitzgeralt manor staff were strategically positioned so that Lucas wouldn’t have to move an inch. "It looks like a diplomatic suite, not a hospital."

"It’s quieter," Trevor replied simply.

"Trevor," Lucas said, his tone long-suffering, "you made a donation again, didn’t you?"

Trevor’s mouth curved in that mild, unapologetic way of his. "It was for the neonatal wing. Entirely practical."

"And coincidentally," Lucas said, "the Fitzgeralts are now the only people in this building with blackout curtains and private catering."

Trevor’s only answer was to adjust the blanket around the baby’s shoulders. "You needed rest."

Lucas smiled faintly, shaking his head. "You’re unbelievable."

"I’m just powerful enough to get what I want," Trevor corrected, as if that could excuse his tendency to bulldoze entire systems with polite charm and, when that didn’t work, with army force.

"You’re lting," Lucas said finally, eyes narrowing in amusent.

Trevor blinked, caught. "What?"

"You’ve been staring at him for the last fifteen minutes like you’re trying to morize every hair."

Trevor’s gaze dropped instinctively to the tiny bundle in his arms. The baby had shifted slightly, his dark hair ruffling against the edge of the blanket, his face soft and calm in deep sleep. When he finally opened his eyes, just a flicker of movent, they were unmistakably green, the sa clear shade as Lucas’s.

Trevor’s expression gentled instantly. "He looks like you."

Lucas’s lips curved. "He has your hair."

"And your eyes."

"Which ans he’ll have your stubbornness," Lucas murmured, his voice dry.

Trevor’s low laugh filled the quiet space. "Then the universe is dood."

Lucas exhaled softly, content to watch him for a mont before speaking again. "So... what are we calling him today? You’ve vetoed half my list since February."

"I haven’t," Trevor said automatically, though the pause that followed gave him away.

"You rejected nas that have existed since the founding of the Empire."

"They were heavy," Trevor said. "Children shouldn’t sound like institutions."

Lucas arched an elegant brow. "You suggested Maximus."

Trevor looked mildly unrepentant. "It’s distinguished."

"It’s catastrophic," Lucas countered, though amusent softened the words. "He’d either grow up to run the country or start a coup."

Trevor’s mouth twitched. "Ambition isn’t a flaw."

"Not at birth," Lucas murmured, "but I’d rather our son didn’t co out of the cradle with a five-year plan."

Silence stretched for a mont, filled by the quiet hum of monitors and the soft, rhythmic sound of the baby breathing. Trevor shifted slightly, the motion instinctive, protective.

Lucas watched him, expression gentling. "Fine," he said at last, "then what do you suggest?"

Trevor’s gaze stayed on the small bundle in his arms. "Sebastian," he said finally, his voice quieter than before.

Lucas tilted his head. "Sebastian." He let the na roll through the air for a mont, tasting its weight. "You’ve been thinking about that one for a while."

Trevor nodded. "It fits him. Refined, but not ostentatious." His lips curved faintly. "Like soone I know."

Lucas pretended not to hear the implication. "And the middle na?"

Trevor hesitated, as if testing a dozen combinations in his mind before landing on one. "Sebastian Vale Fitzgeralt."

Lucas’s brow lifted. "Vale?"

Trevor nodded once. "After the southern coast. It’s where my father took when I was young, one of the few mories that isn’t tarnished by everything that ca later." He looked down again, voice softening. "It feels... peaceful."

Lucas’s gaze lingered on him, his tone gentler now. "Sebastian Vale Fitzgeralt," he repeated. "It does sound peaceful." Then, with a faint smirk: "Almost deceptively so."

Trevor’s eyes ward. "Deceptive peace is the best kind."

Lucas humd. "You’re naming him after serenity. How ironic."

"I’m naming him after balance," Trevor corrected. "He’ll need it, growing up with you."

Lucas’s lips parted in mock offense. "Excuse ?"

Trevor’s smile deepened, the expression quiet and disarming. "You manage an entire political ecosystem before breakfast, Lucas. You terrify most of Parliant. You needed soone to balance that."

Lucas exhaled slowly, unable to hide his laughter this ti. "You’re insufferable."

"And you love for it."

"Unfortunately."

The baby stirred then, a soft, breathy sound that made both n freeze instinctively. His small hand unfurled from the blanket, fingers flexing before curling again. Trevor’s voice dropped automatically, the tone that usually commanded boardrooms now quiet and reverent. "Easy, Sebastian. We’re here."

Lucas watched, heart tightening in that strange, unfamiliar way he hadn’t yet learned to control. "You’re good at that."

Trevor glanced up, smiling faintly. "I’ve had practice. Mostly with you."

"Careful," Lucas said dryly, "I can still have you escorted out of this suite."

Trevor’s eyes flicked toward him, amused. "You could try."

Lucas rolled his eyes, but the warmth didn’t leave. "Sebastian Vale Fitzgeralt," he murmured again, letting the sound fill the quiet. "Strong enough to carry the na, soft enough to make people underestimate him. He’ll be impossible."

Trevor looked down at their son, who had drifted back into sleep, his expression settling into the calm that only newborns seed to have. "He already is."

Lucas smiled, exhaustion creeping in again. "It suits him."

Trevor’s voice dropped to a murmur, almost to himself. "It suits us."

The quiet returned, unhurried and content. The faint light from the window filtered across the sheets, warming the area around them.

Lucas’s eyes closed, his breathing steady. Trevor stayed where he was, their son nestled against his arm, the na still echoing softly in the back of his mind:

Sebastian Vale Fitzgeralt.

A na that sounded like a promise and a new beginning.