The weeks that followed blurred differently this time. No endless council petitions stacked at his elbow, just the quiet weight of recovery, the hours stretching softer than Gabriel ever allowed them to.
Cecil was not Arik, he slept easily, deeply, and unbothered by the world's noise or ether hum. The nannies adored him for it, and Gabriel, though stubbornly keeping him close in those first days, found himself with a child who could be trusted to rest in his crib without wailing for the world to bend around him. Sometimes Gabriel almost resented the quiet, though the steady rhythm of the boy's breath was its own balm.
