Emperor Sirius had ruled Palatine for ten years.
Ten years of wars averted, treaties signed, rebellions smothered in their infancy, and councils convinced, politely or otherwise, that the Empire did not, in fact, run on their personal ambitions. Ten years of carrying the weight his father had once borne with terrifying ease and doing it with a patience that was slowly running out.
This morning did not improve his opinion of the world.
The reply from Alamina arrived precisely on ti.
Which was, of course, the problem.
Sirius stood at the long table in his private study, the diplomatic seal glowing faintly on the docunt projected above the surface. The language was flawless. Immaculate. So carefully polite it might as well have been sharpened into a weapon.
Two weeks.
They were giving Palatine two weeks to "clarify" its position on the engagent frawork. Two weeks to reconcile the revised long-distance terms with what Alamina now frad, very deliberately, as continental security protocol regarding unpaired dominant alphas of catastrophic classification.
In other words:
’You are stalling.’
’We are not amused.’
’And we are done pretending this is only about romance.’
Sirius exhaled slowly and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Of course they escalated," he muttered. "Of course they did."
Across from him, Lucas sat with infuriating calm, hands folded around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. Trevor stood by the window, arms crossed, posture deceptively relaxed in the way that ant violence had been carefully packed away and labeled for later use.
Sebastian leaned against the wall, black hair loose, green eyes sharp and alert. Windstone, who had been summoned under the pretense of "logistics," stood quietly near the door, pretending not to listen while absolutely listening.
Sirius looked at the projection again, jaw tightening.
"They sent their reply in two days," he said flatly. "And Otto himself called ."
The na of Arion’s father made the room go still.
"He doesn’t want an engagent anymore. He wants a marriage." Sirius let out a long, tired breath. "He was very clear. If there is any more stalling, he will not sacrifice his son or his army to keep the beasts from reaching our borders."
Trevor’s posture shifted, subtle and dangerous. "So he’s invoking containnt treaties."
"And berserk protocols," Sirius confird. "Wrapped in courtesy, of course. But the ssage is simple: Pair him, or we stop holding the line alone."
Lucas closed his eyes briefly. "Arion is not the only weapon in Alamina."
"No," Sirius said, rubbing at his temple, exhaustion finally seeping through the authority. "But Palatine hasn’t sent military support to their borders in over fifty years. We let them shoulder the pressure, the incursions, and the unstable zones. And now they’re furious that the one stabilizing factor they need is being kept at arm’s length."
He exhaled slowly and sank into his chair.
"From their perspective, Dean isn’t just a person. He’s leverage. A reminder of everything they’ve tolerated in the na of balance while we protected our own dominants and kept them close." His mouth tightened. "They see his distance as a taunt."
Silence settled heavily.
"As much as I want to give Dean ti," Sirius continued quietly, "you all know the truth. He has already been granted more freedom than any dominant oga in recorded history. If, by so absurd twist of fate, another alpha were to bond him..."
Trevor went still.
"Otto and Arion would lose their minds," Sirius finished. "And they would not hesitate to burn alliances, borders, and half the continent to get him back. This has nothing to do with love or faith. It’s doctrine. Stability. Control."
Lucas’s hand tightened around his cup. "So to them, this was never about choice."
"No," Sirius said quietly. "And that’s the part that worries most."
He leaned back in his chair, eyes shadowed with sothing like reluctant understanding.
"Truth is... Arion kept Otto away from us until now. Every ssage, every negotiation, every concession ca through the Crown Prince alone. He filtered it. Managed it. Contained his father’s involvent."
Trevor’s gaze sharpened. "Until he couldn’t."
"Until he chose not to," Sirius corrected. "With this last proposal, Arion stopped shielding Palatine from his father’s doctrine. He let Otto step in. He let the old rules, the Temple language, and the containnt protocols co to the table."
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "This motherf-"
"Language," Windstone cut in smoothly, not raising his voice, yet sohow stopping the word in mid-air. He looked at Sebastian over the rim of his glasses, one brow lifting in quiet challenge. "And what all of you are choosing to ignore is that Alamina is just as motivated to secure Dean as Palatine is to protect him."
He let the silence stretch, then continued, unflinching.
"Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the sa if your positions were reversed. Every one of you would invoke doctrine, precedent, and half-buried laws if your stability, your heir, your future depended on it. You may have to do that for Sebastian."
Sebastian opened his mouth, then closed it again when Windstone’s gaze sharpened.
"Everyone is overreacting," the old butler went on calmly. "Yes, Dean has every right to enforce his boundaries. Yes, the Crown Prince crossed one. But you are all behaving as if the boy were made of glass."
His voice softened only slightly.
"He is not fragile. He is not naïve. And he is not so passive prize to be moved across borders like cargo."
Windstone folded his hands behind his back. "He is a dominant oga of one of the highest houses in the Empire. He carries weight. Authority. Responsibility. And with privilege cos cost, as all of you learned the hard way."
Lucas’s expression tightened, but he did not interrupt.
"Let him face the Crown Prince," Windstone said quietly. "Let him speak for himself. Let him negotiate the space he wants and the terms he will accept. You can stand behind him, shield him if it becos necessary, but do not take his independence away in the na of protection."
His eyes moved from Sebastian to Trevor, then to Sirius.
"Dean will not break," Windstone finished. "But he will resent being treated as if he might. And that, gentlen, is how you lose trust far faster than any foreign empire ever could."
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