Edward's gaze drifted to the central console, its main interface flickering softly with the pulse of the palace's ether grid. "You're not touching that," he said finally, crossing the room with the quiet authority of a man who'd intercepted far too many of Gabriel's schemes.
Gabriel didn't move from where he leaned against the desk, arms folded loosely. "Possessive, are we?"
"Practical," Edward shot back, already keying in his clearance code. The console recognized him instantly, drawing down the next layer of security, a lattice of pale blue light that shifted and reformed as it confirmed identity. "If you start querying restricted records without a filter, the Archive Core will log your name directly, and Damian will be notified before I can even close the access window."
Gabriel tilted his head, smirk deepening. "So you'll act as my filter."
Edward didn't look up from the screen. "Call it damage control."
He began running the search through a proxy channel, the faint hum of redirected ether filling the room. Data lines spilled across the nearest holo-display, dense with names, dates, and security stamps.
Gabriel stepped closer, his presence warm at Edward's shoulder, dark eyes tracking each scroll of information. "If you're going to help, at least make yourself useful and open the provincial transfer logs too. The poisoning was in the Capital, but the cover-up wasn't."
Edward's hands paused over the interface just long enough for him to give Gabriel a pointed look. "You're enjoying this far too much."
"Of course I am," Gabriel said easily. "You're helping me commit a crime against palace protocol, and you'll be the one explaining it to Damian."
Edward muttered something under his breath that might have been a prayer or a curse and pulled up the additional files. "Fine. But if we find anything, I'm logging it under my name. Not yours."
Gabriel's smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "It's not like Damian won't find out; I suspect he expects me to do something."
Edward's mouth twitched, though it was hard to tell if it was irritation or reluctant agreement. "He probably does. Doesn't mean I have to make it easy for him to confirm it."
Gabriel eased a hand onto the edge of the console, leaning just close enough to make Edward step slightly to the side without thinking about it. "You're not here to make it easy for him. You're here to make sure I don't burn the palace down while he's gone."
"That too," Edward said dryly, fingers gliding across the ether interface as another set of logs unfurled in the air between them, rows of dates, provincial seals, and courier signatures glowing in faint blue light. "You realize this is exactly the kind of search that will set off flags in the Archive Core."
Gabriel's gaze flicked over the data, his tone almost bored. "Let them do something useful for once."
Edward's eyes narrowed. "But why are you so interested in his poisoning? If it was Hadeon, then what's the point now that he's already dead?"
Gabriel didn't look up from the display. "Because I met Goliath in the shard," he said, voice calm, almost too calm. "And I and Damian suspect he's right there." His hand shifted just enough to point toward the bassinet, toward the sleeping form of Arik.
Edward's head turned almost against his will, gaze dropping to the child. Arik stirred faintly in his sleep, lashes fluttering before settling again, and for a brief moment his eyes opened, bright gold, gleaming even in the dim morning light.
Edward's breath caught.
Damian's eyes, golden and unyielding, stared back at him from a child who could not have inherited them. They were not a trick of genetics, not a quirk of light. They were the mark of someone who had taken the Trial of Ether and survived… no, triumphed.
A feat Goliath of House Ardenne had achieved in his youth, long before the poisoning turned him into the nobles' puppet.
The click of understanding was almost audible in Edward's mind, every fragment of Gabriel's words slotting into place until there was only one conclusion left and it was as impossible as it was undeniable.
He turned back toward Gabriel slowly. "You're not guessing."
"No." Gabriel's gaze stayed on the data scrolling across the display, calm and deliberate. "I'm confirming."
Edward's mouth opened, then closed again. A dozen arguments flared and died before they reached his tongue. Finally, he exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck like a man who had just accepted he'd stumbled into a story designed to ruin his peace forever.
"You know what?" he said at last, voice flat with disbelief. "Fine. Why not? Of course the warlord who once brought an empire to its knees would get himself reborn as that cute baby over there. He's your and Damian's son, frankly, I'd be more shocked if he grew up to be normal."
Gabriel's smirk deepened, satisfaction curling at the edges like smoke. "I'll take that as your blessing to proceed."
Edward gave him a long-suffering look. "It's not a blessing. It's resignation."
"Close enough." Gabriel shifted his attention back to the holo-display, one fingertip sliding along the projected column of entries. The ether-lit text reflected faintly in his eyes as he scrolled, pausing to expand a record here, a courier seal there. "Mm… here's something… transfer authorization, post-dated by two months after Goliath's official death. Convenient, isn't it?"
Edward leaned in despite himself, scanning the lines. "Case file code… 01-AG? That's high-level medical classification."
"Imperial medical classification," Gabriel corrected, already pulling the file's metadata to the foreground. "Locked, sealed, and, oh, look, reassigned to an unmarked vault in the restricted wing."
Edward's jaw tightened. "Which means it's exactly the sort of thing we shouldn't be looking at."
Gabriel didn't bother to look up. "And exactly the sort of thing that's worth the risk." He flicked his wrist, opening the next entry with the fluid confidence of someone who had no intention of stopping until he found what he wanted.