Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega Chapter 60: Three days

Rafael tried to shift again, pushing himself a little higher against the pillows, testing just how much his body had forgiven. His muscles imdiately filed a complaint. His jaw tightened. He tried not to let Gregoris see it.

Gregoris saw it.

His expression hardened by degrees, leaving his earlier smugness behind.

"You are not leaving this room without support," he said. "And even when you do, you will not take a single step anywhere on this estate without soone with you. If I am not personally with you, one of my Shadows will be. At all tis."

Rafael froze.

"There is no universe," he said carefully, "in which I accept being guarded like a misbehaving child."

"Good," Gregoris replied. "Because that would be inaccurate."

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. "Try sothing diplomatic for once."

"You are being guarded," Gregoris said smoothly, "like sothing I do not intend to lose."

That shut him up only because arguing required breath, and breath required movent, and movent currently hurt.

He exhaled slowly instead, dragging a hand down his face. "This is obsessive."

"It is effective," Gregoris countered. "You forget how many people would currently like to see you humiliated, hard, or conveniently injured beyond recovery. You know the public scandal you started? You beca more interesting overnight."

Rafael’s fingers tightened against the sheets.

Gregoris’s voice lost its smug amusent and settled into sothing far more dangerous for Rafael’s sanity: terrifyingly practical.

"You will not be unattended in that context. Not while you are healing and your body is still vulnerable. Not while the political climate is circling you like blood in the water. And certainly not while you are mine."

Rafael breathed out slowly through his nose. "I need to go to work, Gregoris."

He tried to make it sound rational. He tried very hard to sound like soone who was making logistical argunts instead of soone held hostage by his own muscles.

Gregoris didn’t even blink.

"Gabriel already signed your leave of absence."

The room went very still.

Rafael stared at him. "I’m sorry... he WHAT?"

Gregoris picked his coffee back up as if this conversation required hydration rather than restraint. "Signed it. Yesterday evening. Very efficient. He expressed concern for your health, then very calmly inford that if I didn’t ensure you rested, he would personally co here and make it happen."

Rafael closed his eyes. "Of course he did."

"And before you think about arguing with him," Gregoris added, entirely too pleasantly, "the order included a formal dical recomndation and a directive stating you are not to be physically present at your departnt until cleared."

Rafael opened his eyes again, slow and begrudging. "You’re lying."

Gregoris smiled faintly. "Would you like to have it printed and frad for you?"

Rafael made a pained sound. "You conspired with Gabriel?"

"He conspired with ," Gregoris corrected, because accuracy mattered to him even now. "I was rely... cooperative."

Rafael dragged a hand down his face. "I hate both of you."

"You say that a lot," Gregoris noted. "It keeps not being true."

Rafael ignored that. "Fine. Work from here. Then I need access to files, reports, a secure line..."

"All already arranged," Gregoris replied smoothly. "A workspace is being prepared in the east study. Secure network. Direct communication with your staff. No interruptions unless dically necessary."

Rafael stared at him again. He was starting to suspect this would beco a the.

"How long," he asked slowly, "have you been planning this?"

Gregoris didn’t hesitate. "Rafael, you were sleeping for three days."

Rafael went still.

For a heartbeat, he didn’t breathe. He just stared at Gregoris as if the man had suddenly spoken in an unfamiliar language, one that his brain understood in theory but refused to accept as reality.

"...no," Rafael said finally.

Gregoris arched a brow. "Yes."

"No," Rafael repeated, firr, as if he could bully ti into compliance. "Absolutely not. That is a joke. You are joking."

"I am not joking," Gregoris replied, and the worst thing was that he sounded gentle about it.

Rafael opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again because his thoughts were breaking the surface one at a ti like unfortunate fish.

"Three..." He stopped. Swallowed. "Three days?"

Gregoris nodded once. "Seventy-two hours. With intervals of consciousness and absolutely no aningful coherence during any of them. Your body needed recovery. I allowed it."

"You... allowed..." Rafael dragged a hand down his face, then imdiately regretted the movent when muscles complained. "Gregoris, I cannot... three days? I missed three days?"

"Yes," Gregoris said. "The world did not end. I checked."

"That is not reassuring," Rafael snapped.

Gregoris’s mouth twitched like it almost turned into a smile. "I find it reassuring."

Rafael’s mind sprinted through implications: work, communications, responsibilities, reputation, political positioning, and, oh no, public narrative. His pulse spiked. His breathing hitched. The sheets tightened under his fingers again.

"Gregoris," he said slowly, in the voice of a man who had found a new layer of horror beneath several existing ones. "The gala. The caras."

"Yes."

"The scandal."

"Yes."

"The press."

"Oh, they had a delightful ti," Gregoris said calmly. "They expect a marriage announcent between Alamina and Rosenroth."

"Delphine would kill ."

Gregoris didn’t look remotely disturbed by that possibility.

"She tried," he said mildly. "She ca to the manor. I did not let her in."

Rafael blinked. That... was a lot of information very quickly.

"My mother ca here?" he demanded.

"Yes."

"And you refused her?"

"Yes."

"You refused Delphine Rosenroth entry into your ho?"

Gregoris took a slow sip of his coffee.

"I am aware of who she is."

Rafael just stared at him. Several political, social, and cultural rules were stacked neatly in his head and then spontaneously burst into flas.

"She’ll never forgive that," he managed.

Gregoris looked entirely unconcerned. "She does not have to. She simply needs to understand."

"Understand what?!" Rafael snapped, incredulous.

"That you were unconscious," Gregoris said coolly. "That you were under dical monitoring. That you were not going to be paraded out for maternal outrage or public negotiation while your body was still recovering. And that if she wanted a conversation with you, she could schedule one when you were capable of standing without assistance and not looking like you had survived a battlefield."

"You are the battlefield!" Rafael yelled at Gregoris and regretted it imdiately.