A soft knock sounded against the doorframe not long after Christian had gone, followed by the light rustle of fabric and footsteps practiced enough not to echo.
Gabriel didn't turn. He only whispered Arik's name once under his breath, softer than sound, and the child stirred, blinking up in that slow, bleary way infants did when the world came back too fast.
"I know," Gabriel murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple before shifting him upright. "Time to charm your court."
The appointed nanny stepped forward with a silent curtsy, arms open and steady. Arik blinked again, brow crumpling as though in protest, but he didn't cry, he only clutched Gabriel's collar a moment longer before allowing himself to be passed over, warm and drowsy in the folds of royal blue.
Gabriel's fingers lingered on his son's curls.
"Only an hour," he said softly. "If he fusses, bring him back."
