Chapter 63: Chapter 63: Second day in Saha
Rowan stepped forward first, the movement measured rather than intimidating. "Sir," he said simply. His voice had a faint rasp to it, the kind you get from long nights and too much coffee, not from barking orders. "We’ll be in the background as much as you’ll allow. You don’t have to look over your shoulder every time you move."
Marta nodded quickly, a small smile flickering across her face. "And you don’t have to starve yourself either. Anything you want, just tell me. Meals, tea, snacks. You don’t have to wait for the kitchen’s schedule."
Hanna remained still, tablet tucked tight against her chest, her polite smile not reaching her eyes. "His Majesty asked me to prepare a capsule wardrobe for you," she said. "Formal, informal, and public appearances. We’ll begin measurements this week."
Chris glanced between them. ’Great. The security wall, the smiling cook, and the ice queen with the tablet.’ Out loud he managed only, "I’m used to doing things myself."
Rowan’s brows ticked up but he didn’t argue. "You’re consort now. We’d be failing our jobs if we let you."
Marta added gently, "We would appreciate keeping our heads, sir."
Chris’s mouth twitched. ’At least they’re honest.’
Behind him, Dax moved past them toward the doors, pulling his phone from his pocket. "You’ll get used to them," he said without looking back. "If you don’t, you’ll replace them. Either way, they’re yours to command."
He stopped at the threshold, turning his head just enough for the violet of his eyes to catch Chris’s. "I will leave for Rohan in about five days," he said. "Unfortunately I have a full schedule until then, but I will make time for at least a dinner until then."
The words settled over the room like a quiet verdict. Chris wrapped his fingers tighter around the mug, his pulse steady but his mind still trying to make sense of what was happening. Dax really did feel different with him; the usual charm had cooled only because Chris had poked at the promise of running. It made him think, uncomfortably, that as long as he didn’t mention escape, he was as safe and pampered as a man could be in a gilded cage.
He exhaled through his nose and tried for something normal. "Have a nice day, then?" he said, almost lightly.
Dax stopped dead. He turned on his heel, crossed the distance in two long steps and bent over him, violet eyes glinting. "Is that so?" he murmured. The shadow of his body fell across Chris, his scent sliding warm and dark between them. "Then give me a goodbye kiss."
For a heartbeat the room froze. Hanna’s tablet tilted, Rowan’s shoulders stiffened, and Marta’s eyes went round. They’d all expected the omega to flinch or throw up another wall.
Chris surprised them all, including Dax. He set the mug down with a soft clink, straightened in his chair and tilted his chin up. "Fine," he said, voice low but steady. "If that’s what it takes."
Violet eyes blinked once, the smallest crack in Dax’s composure. Then his mouth curved slowly, heat flickering under the smile. He bent closer, and when Chris’s lips met his, the kiss was brief, almost formal, but real, a choice of the omega to close space. The spice of Dax’s pheromones slid under Chris’s skin, and for the first time that morning it was Dax who felt a flicker of surprise tighten his chest.
Chris drew back first, the mug forgotten on the table. "Now you should go," he said, trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.
Dax didn’t move away. His violet eyes softened into something warmer, almost playful; the curve of his mouth deepened, showing a hint of teeth. "Tempt me like that," he murmured, voice gone low and rich, "and you expect me to leave?"
He straightened a little but stayed leaning on the arm of Chris’s chair, tilting his head with the slow, unhurried grace of a big cat watching a toy roll closer. "You’ve no idea how dangerous that little kiss was, little moon. You’ll spoil me."
Chris’s heart thumped hard enough he was sure the staff could hear it. "Then you’ll be late for your meetings," he managed, keeping his tone light. "And I’ll have to explain to your ministers why their king can’t keep a schedule."
Dax chuckled, the sound low and pleased. "Let them wait. I like this better." His thumb brushed once, idly, along the edge of Chris’s jaw as if memorizing the heat there. "Bold suits you."
For a heartbeat he stayed close, scent curling warm and dark around them, before finally pushing himself upright, rolling his shoulders as the gold-threaded shawl slid back into place. The predator had put his mask back on, but the lazy, satisfied smile still clung to his mouth. "We’ll see each other in the evening," he said.
Killian was already at the door, tablet tucked under one arm, but even he had paused for a second, watching his king. He’d seen Dax like this only after victories, the clean, dangerous calm of a man who had just ended a rival, never from a single soft kiss in a sunlit room. His storm-grey eyes flicked to Chris with the barest glimmer of curiosity before he schooled his face again.
Dax didn’t glance back. "Let’s go, Killian," he said, voice still low but no longer sharp. "They’ll wait."
The two of them left together, the carved doors swinging shut behind them. For a moment the room was completely silent except for the faint tick of the clock.
Hanna was the first to move. She snapped her tablet closed, her polite smile vanishing as though it had never existed. Without a word she dipped a perfunctory bow and swept out after Dax, heels clicking a little too fast. Her posture said everything: the king’s omega might be a job, but she had no intention of lingering in his shadow when the king wasn’t present.
Marta and Rowan exchanged a glance, then both looked back at Chris. The tension that had been locked in their shoulders softened a fraction.
"Well," Marta said at last, her voice warmer now. "That was... something."
Rowan huffed a quiet laugh, the rasp in his voice almost friendly. "Never thought I’d see him walk out of a room looking like that and no one bleeding on the marble."