The heavy, gilded doors of the Imperial Senate chambers had finally slammed shut on the day's chaos, leaving Vaelorian's blood singing with an almost manic energy. He was already striding toward his chambers before the echoes of Senator Aldrin's sputtering outrage could fade from the halls.
He found Riven precisely where he expected: in the sitting room, bathed in the amber glow of the hearth, utterly focused. Riven was reviewing the final report from Anya—a short document detailing the successful food distribution across the empire's poorest wards.
Vaelorian closed the thick, soundproof door, sealing them into a pocket of blessed quiet. He didn't speak. He just let out a long, ragged sigh of release that emptied his lungs of the day's political poison. He crossed the room in two purposeful strides and hauled Riven out of the chair, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.
"You did it, my love. You actually did it." Vaelorian murmured into Riven's hair, his grip tight enough to anchor them both. "They are absolutely livid. You should have seen Aldrin—he was almost weeping into his ledgers, droning about 'fiscal bypass' and 'unauthorized provisioning.' You humbled them, and you fed the people—all without their dime. It was perfect."
Riven laughed, a bright, genuine sound that was pure release. Vaelorian spun him around once, making the papers scatter unheeded. Riven leaned back just enough to catch Vaelorian's eye.
"It was your perfect distraction that made it work, Your Highness," Riven corrected, his hands resting lightly on Vaelorian's chest. "Honestly, we couldn't have done it without your help, babe."
Vaelorian beamed, his eyes shining with pure pride. "What can I say? I'm the best decoy in the Empire, and you are the most brilliant covert operator. It's a marvelous partnership." He took Riven's face in his hands and kissed him. "I'm so proud of the man you are and the things you've achieved."
Riven felt a swell of warmth that had nothing to do with the day's successful logistics. He rested his cheek against Vaelorian's palm. "I feel I can do anything with you by my side. Although, the real victory this time wasn't besting the Senators. It was the happiness of the people when Barron reported the food would arrived as promised. The farmers actually waited at the pre-arranged drop-off points with us the whole time, they believed us, babe—they trusted us enough to deliver on our promise."
Vaelorian broke the embrace, moving briefly to the carved sideboard where a bottle of aged wine—a coveted gift from the vineyards of House Ashbourne—sat waiting.
"We should be enduring a grand, pompous banquet," Vaelorian mused, uncorking the bottle with a quiet pop. "But I prefer this infinitely more." He poured two glasses of the deep, ruby liquid. "A quiet toast. Just for us."
He crossed back, handing Riven a glass. He raised his own, the rich color catching the firelight. "To you, my love. To your courage, your brilliance, and for all the incredible things you've done, and all that's yet to come."
Riven met his gaze, the wine glass cool in his hand. He tilted his head slightly. "To you, who lets me do things freely. Who trusted my plan enough to hold back the entire legislative body with a detailed analysis of cheap wood. To the future we just started, babe." He raised his glass higher. "Cheers to us."
They clinked glasses, the crystalline sound a delicate counterpoint to the day's political thunder. The wine was rich and complex, a taste of the Western lands that Riven now felt a deeper, earned connection to—a land he was actively helping to heal.
Vaelorian set his empty glass aside and reached out, his thumb lightly tracing the cool, ornate metal of Riven's betrothal torque. With a gentleness that belied his size, he unfastened the weighty piece and laid it carefully on the table.
"The Consort-to-be is officially off duty," he whispered, pulling Riven into his arms, kissing him with a deep, consuming passion. It was a kiss that spoke not of formality, but of relief, pride, and shared triumph.
Tonight, there was no need for coded planning or careful wording. There was only the intoxicating satisfaction of a monumental achievement and the intimacy of two people who had proven their partnership was powerful enough to change the world. They were united by their vision, their efforts, and their unshakable trust.
They made love not as future Emperor and Consort, but as Riven and Vaelorian—partners in life, partners in their quiet war against neglect, and partners in the long, hopeful work of building a better world.