Chapter 375: Chapter 375: Private Announcement
The afternoon light filtered soft and gold through the tall windows of the Fitzgeralt drawing room, turning everything it touched into something warmer, softer, and almost unreal. The fire had been lit early as winter started to frost the garden, and the faint scent of citrus polish and tea leaves lingered in the air.
Lucas had dressed simply, for once. A cream cashmere sweater with sleeves pushed to his elbows, slate-gray slacks, and no jewelry save for the slim platinum band on his left hand. Comfort over ceremony. The only concession to formality was the way his hair had been brushed back neatly, betraying that he was, in fact, expecting company.
He was seated on the sofa when the door opened, and Windstone’s calm voice announced, "Lady Mia Black, Lord Benjamin LaVierre, and Lord Alistair Fitzgeralt... An uninvited guest."
"Gods, help me," Lucas murmured under his breath just as the first wave of energy hit the room.
Mia was the first to appear, a flurry of silk and irritation wrapped into one perfect woman. Her dress was the color of pale rose wine, soft chiffon falling over her shoulders in deliberate asymmetry. Her heels clicked like punctuation marks of disapproval. And, as expected, a shadow trailed behind her, Lucius Thorne, his black suit immaculate, expression unreadable, but his blue eyes tracking Mia’s every step as if she were an unpredictable chemical reaction.
"Lucas!" Mia exclaimed, sweeping forward as though she hadn’t brought an imperial shadow into his home. "You look positively radiant! But also tired, which is frankly rude of you. You’re supposed to be glowing."
Benjamin entered next, dramatically brushing invisible dust off his long charcoal coat. A violet silk scarf draped loosely around his neck, and a silver pin glittered in his dark hair. "You’re glowing, all right," he said, grinning. "Like a lamp someone forgot to turn off."
Alistair followed behind, tall, unbothered, and grounding as ever in a simple, perfectly cut navy suit with an open collar. "Ignore him," he said mildly. "He’s been rehearsing that line since breakfast."
Benjamin gasped in mock offense. "I was workshopping it."
Lucas rose, half-laughing, half-defeated, as Mia reached him first. "You’re here earlier than I expected," he said, offering a small smile.
"Of course we are," Mia said, brushing a stray thread off his sweater like she owned it. "You think the empire’s gossip mill would let us wait? The minute Benjamin texted about a ’personal announcement,’ Lucius cleared his schedule."
"Did he?" Lucas asked, glancing past her toward the prince, who was standing neatly beside an armchair, very much pretending to be above all of this.
Lucius’s lips curved faintly. "Mia insisted. I came to keep her from burning down your foyer."
"He exaggerates," Mia said sweetly, sinking into the nearest sofa with a swirl of rose-colored fabric. "I only threatened one guard."
Benjamin laughed, dropping elegantly into the seat opposite her. "Windstone probably considered that a compliment."
"Windstone," Lucas said dryly, "considers existence a personal affront."
"Wise man," Alistair said, taking a seat beside Benjamin and crossing one leg over the other. "He’s probably the only reason this house still stands after your escape from Serathine’s."
Lucas gave him a long-suffering look but motioned for tea to be poured anyway. "I’m surrounded by dramatists," he muttered.
"Don’t pretend you don’t love it," Benjamin teased, adjusting his scarf. "We all know this house needs a little chaos."
Lucius’s gaze flicked to Lucas, assessing, sharp as ever. "You’ve been quiet lately."
Lucas’s fingers brushed over the edge of his cup, steady, but his expression softened. "I’ve been... occupied."
Mia leaned forward, eyes bright, hands clasped as though she already knew. "Occupied. What a word."
Benjamin tilted his head. "Occupied as in... empire-saving business?"
Alistair raised a brow. "Or occupied as in the kind of news that gets nobles to faint in church pews?"
Lucas let out a slow breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Something like that."
He stood, setting his teacup aside, and let the moment stretch. Windstone, the master of timing, closed the doors silently behind them, sealing the world out.
When Lucas spoke again, his voice was calm, almost too calm for the weight of the words that followed.
"I wanted to tell you all in person," he began. "Before anyone else hears it secondhand or starts another round of speculation." He paused, glancing briefly at Mia, whose hand had already gone to her mouth. "I’m... pregnant."
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then Benjamin squealed.
It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t composed. It was loud, startled joy wrapped in disbelief. "Expecting?!"
Mia clapped her hands over her mouth and promptly burst into tears. "I knew it! I told Lucius! Didn’t I tell you? I told you!"
Lucius blinked, as if unsure what to do with the emotional debris beside him. "You did," he said quietly. "Several times."
Alistair leaned back, lips twitching. "Well. That explains the sudden media silence and the fortress-level security."
Lucas smiled faintly, amused and tired all at once. "Trevor calls it precaution. I call it imprisonment with excellent coffee service."
Mia reached for his hands, her expression softening. "Oh, Lucas. You’re really doing it."
He squeezed her fingers gently, eyes glinting with something between affection and quiet pride. "We are."
Benjamin was already halfway through planning a party in his head, Alistair was smirking behind his teacup, and Mia was openly emotional. Lucius, ever the outlier, simply inclined his head. "Congratulations," he said softly. "You’ll be extraordinary parents."
Lucas blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. "Thank you."
From the corner of the room, Windstone cleared his throat with perfect timing. "If the table survives this round of emotion, dinner is ready."
Benjamin dabbed at his eyes dramatically. "Bring champagne! We’re celebrating!"
"Absolutely not," Lucas said, suppressing a smile. "Ginger ale only."
Mia gasped. "You can’t have champagne? That’s cruel!"
"Comes with the job," Lucas said dryly, settling back on the sofa. "You get a title, a house, and crippling nausea. A fair trade, really."
Laughter filled the room, loud and bright, bouncing off the high ceilings until even Lucius’s composure cracked into his mischief self.