Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL) Chapter 73 - 68: Beneath the Surface (2)

Astana’s footsteps echoed softly as he walked down the long corridor to his father’s study. The silence of the manor was almost unnerving, and the weight of his conversation with Irina hung in the air. He could already hear the low murmur of his father’s voice, deep and deliberate, as he addressed his reports, his presence as commanding as ever.

Paul Blake, one of Damian’s most trusted generals, was never a man who showed weakness or hesitation. Damian had placed so much trust in him because of his reputation for discipline and clear-headed strategy—and Astana had never been able to escape his father’s strict standards. Despite being strict, Paul had never been unfair. Astana could always rely on his father to provide a balanced viewpoint, even if it ant hearing things he did not want to hear.

He knocked once before entering. Paul stood near the window, examining the vast landscape that stretched out before them, his posture as sharp as his mind. His graying hair was neatly combed, and though his hands were marked with age, they were steady and purposeful.

"Co in, Asta." Paul’s voice was firm, though there was an underlying warmth to it, as if he could sense the burden on his son.

Astana stepped in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He paused, unsure how to approach the topic at hand, but Paul’s piercing gaze never left him.

"Sit," Paul motioned toward the chair across from his desk, never missing a beat. Astana did, settling into the chair as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

"You’re ho early," Lord Blake remarked, his voice calm but assessing. "Is everything well with the Emperor?"

Astana hesitated, not wanting to discuss Damian in his father’s presence. The tension from breakfast was still weighing on him. "Yes, the Emperor granted a break for the day. I’ll be returning in the evening."

Paul nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed his son. Astana’s discomfort was clear, and Paul could sense there was more to the story. But rather than pressing, he gave a small wave of his hand. "Very well. But I can tell there’s sothing on your mind. You wouldn’t have co to if there wasn’t."

Astana took a deep breath, his fingers tapping the edge of the chair nervously. He hadn’t yet figured out how to voice what had been gnawing at him, the conversation with Irina still fresh in his mind. But his father’s steady presence made him feel as though it might be the right ti to confront it.

"Father," he began, his voice betraying the weight of his thoughts. "Irina... She said so things. I don’t know if I should take them seriously."

Paul finally looked up, his expression unreadable. "I see."

"She thinks she’s in love with the Emperor."

Paul gave a short chuckle, setting his papers aside. "Of course she does."

Astana scoffed, rubbing his temples. "I told her the truth. That the man she imagines doesn’t exist. That he’s more dangerous than any of us ever knew."

"And?"

"She sulked and stord off."

Paul smirked slightly. "She’s young. She wants to believe in fairy tales."

"Damian isn’t a fairy tale."

"No," Paul agreed. "He’s a war story."

Astana leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "She won’t learn unless she sees for herself."

Paul raised a brow. "Are you proposing to let her into the lion’s den?"

Astana shook his head. "No, but if she insists on this fantasy, I’d rather she get a taste of reality before it becos dangerous. Let her visit at the office—just the office. Let her see how the Emperor actually is when he’s not so distant, untouchable figure in a ballroom."

Paul studied his son for a long mont. "You think that will be enough to shatter her illusions?"

"If it’s not, nothing will."

Paul leaned back, fingers steepled. "You’re assuming Damian will act as he always does."

Astana let out a short, humorless laugh. "Damian doesn’t play nice unless there’s sothing to gain. She won’t get the version of him she thinks she saw last night."

Paul humd, considering. "You’re taking a risk."

"Less risk than having her walk in blind," Astana countered.

Paul tapped a finger against the desk, then finally nodded. "Very well."

Astana sighed, his fingers tapping nervously on the armrest. "Irina’s not the only one who’s naive. She thinks Damian wants love, but he’s not interested in it in the way she imagines. His eyes are already on soone else."

Paul raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Soone else? Who?"

"Gabriel," Astana said quietly. "The rumors are all over the palace—that Gabriel’s the Emperor’s mate. The mark... Damian put it on him himself."

Paul’s face was thoughtful as he processed the information. "Ah. So that’s what’s going around."

Astana nodded, his expression tense. "It’s not just talk. It’s being spread on purpose—Damian’s orders. The palace is buzzing with it, and it’s not by accident."

Paul leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled, his gaze steady. "But is Damian really interested in Gabriel? Or is it just another move to get the von Jaunez house into line, securing his power?"

Astana hesitated, his eyes narrowing. "Knowing Damian... both would be a safe bet." He leaned forward, his voice softening with realization. "But last night... after seeing how Damian acted toward Gabriel; I realized this isn’t just strategy. Damian sees Gabriel as more than a political ally. He sees him as his mate. That’s real."

Paul studied Astana for a long mont before his lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "Well... that’s a relief, isn’t it? At least Damian has finally found soone. I always wondered when that day would co."

Astana blinked in surprise. "You’re not... upset about it?"

Paul chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, Asta. I’m relieved. Damian’s had power, but not the stability that cos with soone by his side. Gabriel... I’ve seen enough of him to know he’s not just another pawn. He’s soone Damian can trust. And trust is sothing the Emperor’s needed for a long ti."

Astana let out a short breath, not expecting that response. "You’re okay with it?"

Paul’s expression softened, his tone full of a quiet understanding. "I’m not just ’okay’ with it. I’m glad for him. The Emperor’s had too many gas played with him—he deserves sothing real, sothing solid. And Gabriel... he’s a man of his own, strong enough to handle whatever Damian throws his way." He gave Astana a pointed look. "Besides, if there’s anyone who could keep Damian from losing himself to the power, it’s Gabriel."

Astana thought about that for a mont, his gaze flicking away. "I guess you’re right. Gabriel’s not so naive fool. He’s more than that."

Paul nodded. "Damian made a good choice, Asta. And if this truly is the man Damian’s been waiting for, then maybe it’s ti for us to stop worrying about the Emperor’s cold heart and start hoping that he can finally find what he’s been missing."

Astana’s expression softened slightly, though there was still a trace of uncertainty in his eyes. "I just hope Gabriel knows what he’s getting into. This is a different ga now."

Paul smiled warmly, his voice lighter than before. "Let’s just say I trust Gabriel to figure it out."