The study was quiet again once the door closed behind Astana.
Damian didn't move for a long time.
The report in front of him, something about eastern ward fluctuations, remained unread. His hand hovered above the page but never touched it. Instead, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from the cup Edward had left untouched beside Gabriel's seat. Jasmine and ironroot. A calming blend meant to soothe the last remnants of pain.
He exhaled through his nose. Not quite a sigh.
The warmth still lingered in the room. Gabriel's scent, light but unmistakable, was woven into the fabric of the study now. Like it belonged here. Like he belonged here.
Astana could believe that Damian was cruel enough to manipulate even his mate. Most of the court would agree. Perhaps even Max, on a darker day. Damian smiled bitterly at the thought and reached for the teacup still resting beside Gabriel's seat, his fingers brushing the porcelain with the care of a man holding something far more fragile.
