The clink of cutlery and the soft scrape of a chair filled the grand Velmore dining hall as Caliste slid into her usual spot at the long table.
Lucian was already seated at the head, sipping his coffee, looking like the front page of a fashion magazine. He didn't even flinch when she grabbed a croissant and bit into it like she hadn't eaten in days.
"Sleep well?" he asked without looking up.
Caliste narrowed her eyes. "Like a baby. You?"
He finally glanced at her, one brow lifting. "I would've, if someone hadn't kicked me in her sleep."
She blinked, chewing. "I kicked you?"
"Twice," he said flatly. "Right in the ribs. I thought I was under attack."
"You were," she said with a smirk. "It was instinct."
He snorted into his coffee. "Violent instincts, apparently."
A silence passed. Then she cleared her throat and said, trying to sound casual, "So... I've been thinking."
Lucian froze mid-sip. "Dangerous."
"I'm serious."
"Even more dangerous."
She rolled her eyes. "About the heir thing."
He set his cup down. "Of course you are. It's barely 8 a.m., but sure, let's talk baby-making over toast."
"Well, we do have a deadline," she reminded, picking up a grape. "And since we're not exactly the lovey-dovey type... I was thinking of an alternative."
Lucian leaned back. "Go on."
"I say we go for IVF. No mess, no awkwardness. And we hire a surrogate to carry the baby."
Lucian didn't answer right away. He picked up a piece of bread, tore it slowly, then looked up.
"No."
She blinked. "No?"
"No surrogate," he said again. "If we're doing this, you carry the child."
Her face scrunched up. "Why? That's so old-fashioned!"
"It's not about fashion. It's our child. I don't want someone else growing it like we're outsourcing a project."
"But—Lucian—ugh!" She huffed. "What if I don't want to carry it? What if I'm not ready?"
"You were ready to bring this up at breakfast. That's got to count for something."
She threw a grape at him. He caught it mid-air and popped it in his mouth.
"Show-off," she muttered.
"I'm serious, Caliste," he said, his tone softening. "If you're scared, I get it. But if we're going through with this, I want the child to grow inside you. It matters."
Her eyes dropped to her plate. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her fork.
"I… I can't."
Lucian frowned. "Can't, or won't?"
She took a shaky breath, cheeks warming. "Both."
He waited.
She glanced around as if someone might hear, then leaned closer and whispered, "I'm a virgin."
Lucian paused, stunned. "…Come again?"
"I haven't come. Ever!" she whispered louder than intended, then slapped her hand over her mouth, mortified.
Lucian stared at her for a beat, then burst into laughter, loud and honest.
"Oh my god," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Stop laughing!"
"I'm not—" he struggled to breathe, "—I just… you? You, Caliste Winslow, the woman who once threatened to burn down my Porsche if I made her wait another hour—you're a virgin?"
"Yes!" she squeaked. "And can you not announce it like it's a breaking news alert?"
He tried to control his chuckles. "You've been married for three years."
"And we've lived in different countries for 2.9 of them!"
"Still," he muttered, amused.
She glared at him. "Is it that hard to believe?"
He sobered. "Honestly? Yeah."
She crossed her arms. "I just never met anyone I trusted enough. And you were more of a business arrangement than a love story, if you recall."
"I remember," he said. "And trust me, I'm not judging. I'm just… surprised."
"Well, now that you know, can you see why I'm not exactly eager to ruin my, um, 'Holy Grail' just to deliver an heir?"
Lucian ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I get that it's scary. But it's not a curse, Cal. It's just… a new chapter."
Her voice dropped to a murmur. "You think I'm being silly."
"No," he said gently. "I think you're being honest. And I respect that."
She looked at him, visibly startled.
"Really?" she asked.
He nodded. "If we go the IVF route, we'll do it your way. No pressure. But if you're worried about the hymen thing…" He cleared his throat, trying not to smirk. "You do know that's not a magical lock, right?"
"Don't start," she groaned.
"I'm just saying, you can lose it doing sports, too. Even riding a bike."
"I did ballet and horseback riding!" she hissed. "It's still there! The damn thing's stubborn!"
Lucian burst out laughing again. "You're unbelievable."
Caliste grabbed another grape and threw it at him. He didn't dodge this time.
"Ow," he said dramatically. "Assault."
"I'll show you assault if you keep laughing."
"Okay, okay." He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. "But I want you to know something."
"What?"
"I'm not going to force you into anything. I want this baby to come from a place we both agree on. Even if it's not perfect. Even if it's messy."
Caliste blinked. "That's… unexpectedly sweet."
"Don't get used to it."
She smiled, then bit her lip. "Would you come with me to the clinic?"
He nodded without hesitation. "Of course."
"Even if I pass out from needle fear?"
"I'll catch you."
"Even if I scream bloody murder?"
"I'll scream louder to make you feel better."
She laughed. "You're actually kind of tolerable today."
Lucian raised his coffee. "Cheers to progress."
They clinked mugs, and for the first time since their forced reunion, the distance between them felt a little less heavy.
The war was far from over. But for now… they had a truce.