Chapter 376: Chapter 376: I’m happy.
The laughter was still echoing when the door opened again.
Trevor stepped inside without announcement, the low hum of conversation faltered, the sound of fire softened, and even the light seemed to lean his way.
The crisp white of his shirt gleamed against the deep charcoal of his vest, sleeves rolled once, revealing the faint glint of gold cufflinks shaped like the Fitzgeralt crest. His hair was slightly disheveled, the only betrayal of how long the meeting must have run.
And yet, the first thing he saw was not the gathered nobles, not the prince at the armchair, nor Benjamin dramatically clutching a napkin to his chest... no. It was Lucas.
Lucas, with that soft sweater and the tired, fond smile, surrounded by chaos and affection that didn’t include him.
Something in Trevor’s chest tightened, irrational and familiar.
He crossed the room with the quiet authority of someone who did not need to be introduced anywhere in his own home. His voice was smooth and low, but the faint edge in it betrayed him.
"I see I missed the performance."
Mia turned, beaming through her tears. "Trevor! We were just celebrating..."
"I can see that," he said, though his eyes hadn’t left Lucas once.
Benjamin, ever unafraid of danger, grinned. "You’re late, Marquis. We already cried, screamed, and made plans for a baby shower that Lucas will inevitably veto."
Trevor’s lips curved faintly. "I’ll veto it too."
"Oh, you’d both be impossible," Benjamin sighed.
Mia, unbothered, reached again for Lucas’s hand, and Trevor’s composure thinned a fraction. His gaze followed the movement like it was personal, and in some ways, it was.
Because there was his husband, his pregnant husband, laughing softly under someone else’s touch, wrapped in warmth and friendship that he wanted, in that moment, to hoard for himself.
Windstone would have called it irrational.
Trevor called it his nature.
He crossed the last few steps, smoothly reclaiming his place beside Lucas on the sofa, the motion casual but territorial. His arm brushed Lucas’s shoulder, and when Mia leaned too close, he smiled, perfectly polite, but with that subtle flicker of warning that made even Benjamin straighten slightly in his seat.
"Everything all right, darling?" Trevor asked quietly, his tone warm but threaded with meaning.
Lucas turned to him, amused, catching the flicker of jealousy as easily as breathing. "You mean apart from being ambushed by half the city? Perfectly."
Trevor’s eyes softened. He reached up, straightening the edge of Lucas’s sweater as though it needed adjusting. "You didn’t tell me they’d arrived."
"You were in a meeting," Lucas reminded him, voice dry. "I wasn’t about to text you ’incoming dramatics.’"
Benjamin gasped in mock offense. "Rude!"
"Accurate," Alistair corrected, tone mild.
Lucius leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, the faintest smirk ghosting across his face. "I see the Marquis has arrived to reclaim his throne."
Trevor turned his head slightly toward him, expression pleasant but unreadable. "You make it sound as though I ever left."
That earned a quiet laugh from Lucas, who pressed a hand to his face. "You’re all impossible."
"You married into this," Mia said, still misty-eyed. "And you look happy, so you can’t even complain."
Trevor glanced down at Lucas, the edge in him melting instantly at the sight of that faint flush across his cheeks. "I am happy," he said simply.
It was enough to silence the room for a heartbeat.
Lucas looked at him, startled by the honesty in his tone, warm, certain, and full of the quiet protectiveness that wrapped around him like a second blanket. His fingers twitched where they rested on his knee, and Trevor caught them without looking, intertwining their hands with the ease of habit.
Benjamin sighed dramatically, breaking the spell. "Gods, even your domestic moments are cinematic."
Mia wiped her eyes again. "I hate how perfect you two are. I’m suing."
"Join the line," Alistair murmured, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Lucius rose, smooth as shadow, adjusting his cufflinks. "Congratulations again," he said, tone even, though his gaze lingered briefly on Lucas. "You’ve made quite an impression on the Empire. And on my fiancée."
Mia swatted him lightly. "You like them."
"I like the peace," he said, with just enough irony to make Trevor smirk.
"Then stay," Lucas offered with a soft smile. "Dinner’s ready. Windstone will mutiny if anyone leaves before dessert."
Benjamin perked up instantly. "Dessert?"
"Only if you behave," Trevor said, in a tone that implied he didn’t expect that outcome at all.
Benjamin pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. "I always behave."
Alistair arched a brow, deadpan. "You once lit a candle centerpiece on fire because you were bored."
"That was performance art," Benjamin retorted, scandalized. "Besides, it was your birthday dinner. You’re welcome."
Mia laughed so hard she nearly dropped her clutch. "You’re all impossible," she said, wiping at her eyes. "If Windstone hasn’t already resigned, I’ll be amazed."
"He’s too stubborn for that," Lucas said, standing carefully. The motion was slow and graceful; he still carried himself like the duchess the world saw him as, even when he was exhausted. "Come on. Before he actually does mutiny and locks the dining room doors."
Trevor rose at once, instinctively steadying him with a hand at his back. It wasn’t even possessive this time, just protective and natural, as though the space between them simply didn’t exist anymore.
Mia’s smile softened. "Gods, you two make the rest of us look bad."
"Speak for yourself," Benjamin said cheerfully, already looping an arm through Alistair’s. "I thrive on it. Inspiration for future chaos."
"Don’t even think about it," Trevor warned, his voice like silk wrapped around steel.
Benjamin grinned. "Oh, but I’m already thinking."
Lucius followed behind, expression faintly amused as the group began to move toward the dining room. "It’s fascinating how quickly your friends turn your estate into a stage," he murmured, his tone soft enough for only Trevor to catch.
Trevor’s smirk didn’t fade. "It keeps things interesting. And it gives me the pleasure of reminding them whose stage it is."
The prince chuckled quietly, a sound that almost resembled approval.
Inside, the dining room glowed in the golden light of early evening. The long table was set with porcelain plates edged in pale gold, the candles arranged with Windstone’s usual precision, elegant, but restrained, every fork aligned as though measured by rule.
The smell of roasted chestnuts and honey glaze filled the air, warm and grounding.
Lucas stopped at the threshold, taking it in, the laughter, the light, the friends who had somehow become family, and smiled, small but real.
Mia slipped an arm around his shoulders in a brief hug before Trevor’s faint glare made her step back with a grin. "Fine," she teased, "I’ll share the seat across the table. I promise not to steal your husband."
Trevor’s answering look was all quiet amusement and something deeper. "See that you don’t."
"Possessive," Benjamin muttered under his breath, half-delighted.
Lucas rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Come on," he said softly, gesturing toward the table. "Sit down before Windstone adds it to his resignation letter."
As they took their seats, laughter spilled once more across the walls of the Fitzgeralt manor. Outside, the first flakes of winter snow began to drift down, catching the light like falling silver.
Inside, between the warmth and the scent of cinnamon, Trevor reached for Lucas’s hand under the table.
"You know... Sirius is the only one not here." Alistair said with a wide grin.