The morning haze curled like breath over the tall windows of the imperial wing, their runic tint flickering faintly in response to the rising ether current. Light slipped through in thin gold lines, catching on the marble trim and the edge of Gabriel's blanket, where Arik was curled against his chest, untouched by the world beyond this room.
Damian stood beside the bed, perfectly still.
His gaze lingered on Gabriel's face, then on the slow rise and fall of their child's back, soft breaths brushing faintly against Gabriel's robe. He didn't speak. Didn't let the air shift too much. The signature of his ether was already veiled, muted to a near-silent hum so it wouldn't disturb them.
He didn't risk a touch.
Instead, he turned, soundlessly, the soles of his polished shoes gliding over the heated floors as he stepped into the adjoining chamber.
