Gabriel's brown eyes narrowed, his voice cutting through the stillness. "And what do you want in exchange?"
Lucius's mouth curved, faint and humorless. "Always the suspicious one." He leaned back in the chair, folding one leg over the other, the gesture measured and without haste. "Once, you would have been right. Once, I would have asked for a favor, a concession, another chain tied where no one else could see."
Gabriel's silence was sharp enough to fill the pause.
"But now?" Lucius's gaze softened, almost weary. "I have nothing left to trade for. No seat to defend. No house to steer. I gave it to Theo, and he wears it better than I ever did." His hand lifted slightly, then dropped to the armrest again. "All I want is to keep walking through these halls and hear my grandchildren laugh. That is my exchange, Gabriel. You let me close enough to be their grandfather, and I'll give you what I know."
Gabriel's lips curved, dry and thin. "You've grown sentimental in retirement."
