Lucas arched a brow. "I was the one who said to get married. He complied."
There was a silence. A deep, primal one. The kind that precedes revolutions and nervous breakdowns.
Benjamin looked at Trevor. Then at Lucas. Then back at Trevor, who simply nodded like that was a normal, non-earth-shattering event.
"You—you proposed?" Benjamin said, voice cracking like glassware under tension. "You fainted into his arms and then proposed?"
Lucas tilted his head. "I proposed weeks later. We were supposed to engage publicly. Either we married, or I was getting shipped to Saha."
Benjamin narrowed his eyes. "You weren’t promised to Dax."
"No," Lucas said mildly. "But I was definitely being...considered."
There was a pause.
A very long, very dangerous pause.
Benjamin inhaled like he was preparing for a lawsuit. "Does Dax know you took him off the table?"
"I guess he will," Lucas said, reaching for the ring tray again, "once you leave."
Trevor added helpfully, "He’ll figure it out when the announcent hits the embassy. I put his na in the RSVP header. Thought it was considerate."
Benjamin dragged a hand down his face. "You two are unhinged. Dax is your friend. We drink together. He bought you whisky."
"He’ll live," Trevor said calmly.
Lucas tilted the sample ring toward the light. "You knew him? You never ntioned it."
Trevor didn’t look up. "We trained together in the north. Political strategy, ceremonial duels, social manipulation. You know—boyhood bonding."
Lucas blinked. "And you just... left that out?"
"You never asked."
Benjamin’s mouth fell open. "You never asked? That’s your defense? You conveniently forgot to tell your fiancé that one of his potential international suitors used to spar with you and share a bunkhouse?"
Trevor finally glanced at Lucas. "Would it have changed your mind?"
"No," Lucas said. "But that makes you a little manipulative."
He wasn’t smiling now.
His gaze had shifted, focused entirely on Trevor—not angry, not cold, but watching in that too-quiet way that always ant the air was about to change. He understood why Trevor hadn’t said anything. The engagent had happened fast and the wedding faster, forged in urgency and necessity. Lucas hadn’t asked about Dax. Not really.
But he still didn’t like being kept in the dark, no matter how justified the shadows were.
Trevor held his gaze, unflinching.
"He’s managing one of the largest armies on the continent," Windstone said mildly, folding a cloth over the gems. "And you’re surprised he’s all tactics?"
Lucas didn’t look away. "Should I expect a war?"
"Not unless you leave him," Windstone said.
Benjamin dropped the ring sizer. "Can everyone please stop casually threatening continental stability while I’m working?"
Trevor reached across the table, brushing his fingers lightly against Lucas’s wrist. Just once. Just enough to ground the conversation.
"There won’t be a war," he said, voice quiet now. "Because there’s nothing left to fight for. You’re here."
Lucas’s expression didn’t soften, but sothing in his posture shifted—fractionally, like the mont before a door unlocks.
"Then don’t make guess where your loyalties fall," he said.
Trevor nodded. "You won’t have to."
Benjamin groaned, dramatically flopping back against the divan. "You know what I hear when you say things like that? Vows. I hear future vows. I am underpaid and emotionally endangered."
Windstone sipped his tea. "Then hurry. You’ve got forty-two hours left."
Benjamin turned his head slowly, glaring at Windstone with the full weight of a man who had seen his professional dignity set on fire and repackaged as a wedding favor.
"Do you ever get tired of being so composed?" he asked, his voice trembling with passion and probable caffeine withdrawal.
Windstone t his gaze over the rim of his porcelain cup. "No."
Benjamin sighed like it hurt. "You used to be fun."
"I was never fun," Windstone replied. "You were simply less perceptive."
Lucas smothered a laugh behind his fingers.
Trevor didn’t even try to hide his amusent. "Do you need help assembling the setting, or should we step out and let you spiral in peace?"
Benjamin waved them both off. "Don’t patronize . I can multitask my breakdown and your happily-ever-after just fine."
He snapped open the velvet binder with the energy of soone declaring war on tilines. "Palladium base. Alexandrite centerpiece. Matte finish with subtle edging. I’m assuming no floral nonsense?"
Lucas nodded. "Sothing elegant. Nothing frilly."
Benjamin scribbled violently. "Good. Because if you had asked for petals, I would have thrown myself off the embassy balcony."
Windstone checked his pocket watch. "That balcony’s been closed for maintenance since last season."
Benjamin didn’t look up. "Then I’ll reopen it with flair."
Trevor leaned over to Lucas. "Should we order the rings of state while we’re at it?"
Lucas sipped his coffee again. "Let’s see if he survives this one first."
Benjamin snapped his pen in half. "If I die, bury in matching cuffs. I want my ghost to haunt you in coordinated accessories."
Benjamin muttered sothing unprintable, shoved the binder under one arm like it owed him money, and stalked toward the door with the exhausted grace of a man personally wronged by love itself.
"I’ll call when the design’s cursed and ready," he snapped. "And if I don’t survive this commission, tell the archives I want my na in gold. Cursive."
He slamd the door behind him.
The silence that followed was imdiate. Blessed. Still.
Windstone took one last sip of tea, then gave them both a shallow bow. "I’ll ensure he doesn’t start a rebellion in the hallway."
And with that, he, too, left.
Trevor stood without a word, walking to the sideboard. He poured two glasses of water, handed one to Lucas, and then glanced toward the main corridor.
"We have a few hours before the next eting," he said quietly. "Would you rather have lunch first... or the manor tour?"
Lucas didn’t answer imdiately.
He took the glass, set it down untouched, and instead leaned back against the table edge, arms folded. His tone didn’t rise, but sothing behind his eyes sharpened—subtle, but unmistakable.
"I want to know," he said. "Why you never ntioned Dax. Not even once. Not even to warn ."
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