Gabriel blinked at him, incredulous. "Are you asking me this after you planned everything and there's less than three weeks until the ceremony?"
Damian's mouth curved, unbothered. "I planned the logistics. The crown, the ether feeds, the security layers. I can't plan you."
Gabriel tilted his head, dry as dust. "That's the first time I've heard you admit to being powerless in anything."
"Not powerless," Damian corrected, golden gaze narrowing with quiet amusement. "Just aware. If you weren't ready, you would have burned this palace to the ground weeks ago. Instead, you sit through council sessions and listen to idiots discuss flower arrangements like it matters to the survival of the Empire."
Gabriel gave him a flat look. "I nearly burned the palace yesterday."
Damian leaned in, close enough that Gabriel could feel the faint scent of clean skin. "And yet you didn't. That's why you'll be Empress."
"And here I thought the bond and our son were enough."
