Chapter 341: Chapter 341: Soap opera (2)
The words had barely left his mouth when the door opened again without so much as a knock. Cedar and clean linen hit his nose a heartbeat before the voice.
"Too late," Trevor drawled from the threshold, one brow lifted. "Looks like you’re already mid-episode."
Behind him, Alistair stepped inside, tall and unhurried, a travel mug in one hand. Benjamin swept in last, a streak of burgundy cashmere and gold chains, phone raised as if he were live-blogging the scene.
Trevor’s gaze flicked over Mia and Lucius, one perched on the edge of a chair, the other standing stiffly by the window, then back to Lucas. "Should I ask, or is this one of those things where I don’t want to know?"
Alistair leaned against the wall, deadpan. "We heard raised voices all the way down the hall. Thought we’d come supervise."
Benjamin gasped theatrically, lowering his phone. "Supervise? You are as curious as me. This is the first unscripted drama Fitzgeralt has produced in months." He moved closer, eyes darting between the three of them like a director lining up shots. "All we need is better lighting."
Lucas dropped back into his chair, massaging his temple. "Perfect. The whole cast is here."
Trevor crossed the room, resting a steadying hand on the back of Lucas’s chair. "Want me to clear them out?" he asked quietly.
"No," Lucas muttered. "I think if we add one more person, we might actually resolve something."
Benjamin perched on the arm of a sofa, eyes glittering with mischief. "Then please, continue," he said, his voice carrying like he was in a theater. "Who’s betraying whom, and do I need to design engagement rings for two people or three?"
Mia’s cheeks went scarlet. Lucius’s jaw clenched. Alistair sipped his coffee, obviously enjoying himself.
Trevor sighed, cedar warm around Lucas’s shoulders. "Welcome to your soap opera, darling," he murmured. "Chapter three hundred and forty-one."
Lucius exhaled, long and slow, as though trying to clear the room of everyone else’s noise. He straightened from the window, shoulders squaring, and for the first time since stepping inside actually looked at Mia instead of over her head.
"I’m not blind," he said quietly. "I know how this looks. My last engagement was broken when her family chose to poison Trevor and try to destabilize Palatine. Meditation, sandalwood, and good manners, none of it mattered when she turned out to be a traitor. That’s over. I have to choose again."
Mia blinked at him, still perched on the edge of her chair. "And you chose me? You’ve known me for, what, less than two months?"
"Yes," Lucius said simply. "Less than two months. Long enough to see who you are when you’re not at a gala. Long enough to know you didn’t run when everything around you shifted."
Mia gave a short, incredulous laugh and gestured at herself. "Do you even hear yourself? In four months I’ve gone from an obscure ward to the adopted daughter of one of the top families in Palatine, the future queen of Saha’s sister, and now you’re trying to make me the fiancée of Palatine’s second prince."
Lucius corrected her automatically, his voice still calm. "Three months."
Mia stared at him, her eyes glinting with murder. "That’s not the point."
Alistair made a low sound that might have been a chuckle. Benjamin actually clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a delighted noise.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised. "You’re really leaning into the soap opera, aren’t you?"
Lucius ignored the commentary, his blue eyes still on Mia. "I don’t want a pawn, Mia. I want someone who’s already survived being one. I like you. I’m not good at saying it." He gave a faint, almost self-mocking smile. "But I’m learning."
Mia’s fingers tightened around the arm of the chair. For the first time since bursting in, she didn’t look furious, only overwhelmed. "I... don’t even know what to say to that."
"Then don’t," Lucas said dryly, rubbing his temple. "Drink the water Windstone’s bringing and breathe. We’ll figure out the rest when my head stops pounding."
Benjamin finally dropped his hand, eyes glittering. "Oh, please," he murmured. "If this isn’t a pilot for a streaming series, I don’t know what is."
Windstone reappeared like clockwork, a tray balanced in one hand. He set three tall glasses of water and a small carafe on the edge of Lucas’s desk with the same expression he used for treaty signings. "As requested," he said simply, then stepped back to his usual position by the door.
Mia took a glass automatically, still staring at Lucius. Lucius remained standing, his posture impeccable, but his hands were bare now, no longer hidden in his pockets. Alistair, still leaning against the wall, raised his travel mug in a mock toast. "To Fitzgeralt House Drama," he murmured.
Benjamin, emboldened by the silence, swung one leg over the arm of the sofa and perched like a talk-show host. "Honestly, this is better than half the meetings I get dragged to. The prince of Palatine confesses, the adopted daughter of the Blacks looks like she might throw her water at him, and the poor omega in the middle," he gestured at Lucas, "is one more raised voice away from going full royal decree."
Lucas shot him a look. "Benjamin..."
"What? You said it was a soap opera," Benjamin said innocently. "I’m merely providing commentary."
Trevor squeezed Lucas’s shoulder, cedar, a quiet undertone now instead of a warning. "Do you want me to handle him?"
Lucas sighed. "No. He’s right. We’re one dramatic monologue away from commercial break."
Mia managed a weak laugh, setting her glass down. "This isn’t funny."
Lucius’s gaze softened at that, his voice low. "I know. I shouldn’t have walked in like it was a business deal. You deserved a choice."
Something in Mia’s expression shifted, the fury giving way to uncertainty. Alistair caught Benjamin’s eye over her shoulder and mouthed, finally.
Benjamin straightened, brushing invisible lint from his burgundy cashmere. "Well," he said brightly, "at least we’re ending on a cliffhanger. Do we get another episode tomorrow, or are you two going to work this out off-screen?"
Lucas groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Everyone out of my office in five minutes or I start assigning tasks."
Trevor bent close enough for only Lucas to hear, his mouth curling against his ear. "You really should put a ’no filming’ sign on the door," he murmured.
Lucas huffed a laugh despite himself. "And spoil the ratings?"