Ives was deeply worried.

The first time he had restored Thibault to power, the lord had relaxed and felt satisfied — his mission was complete. There had been almost nothing to worry about. But now everything was different. The alpha looked anxiously at Arien walking beside him — he was worried about him.

“Let’s stop for a moment, my lord,” the omega suddenly asked. He stopped right in the middle of the garden path and shifted his weight, wincing in pain.

“Let me carry you to the bench,” Ives quickly offered, but his husband snorted and waved him off.

“And then who will carry you back to the chamber? Let’s skip the heroics.”

The alpha tightened his hold on Arien’s arm, and the omega leaned on him. His belly was very large now, and no clothes could hide his condition anymore. The lord worried about it, but Arien only shook his head and calmly — almost mysteriously — repeated that everything was perfectly fine.

But it was not only his husband’s health and pregnancy that troubled Ives.

The nobility had returned to the castle. This time the king acted differently — he did not execute every rebel or punish them cruelly. He executed the leader of the uprising — the man resisted and cursed everyone, especially Arien — but Thibault did not place his head on a pike for everyone to see. All the others were released. Later, the king addressed the people. Thibault apologized for allowing such events to happen, for the blood that had been shed, and most of all for letting things reach that point. The king swore he would do everything to make Corilan prosper — or rather, to help the people of Corilan prosper. And Ives was sure these were not empty words. After such a shock, Thibault would truly work for the kingdom and its people. He did not want to remain in their memory as a cruel ruler.

Yes, he had freed everyone except Zelan. Yet the alpha could feel how much anger burned in the king whenever he looked at Arien. After all, it was Arien who had brought the rebel close to the throne. But Thibault could do nothing to the omega — he was completely under the protection of Ives. And Milosh as well. The younger king had no interest in politics; he simply did not care. What mattered to him was that Arien had taken the children away, and now they were safe in the south, far from all the horrors.

Thibault and Arien simply disliked each other quietly, and Ives could do nothing about it.

Suddenly a servant approached them and whispered something in the omega’s ear. Arien gave a faint smile and nodded.

“I’ll go,” his husband said, already turning back toward the castle. The alpha immediately moved to take his hand again, but Arien pulled away. “You stay here. Keep walking. I’ll manage.”

“I’ll help.”

“Don’t you have other duties?”

“You and Alian are my only duties.”

“My lord, I’ll manage. We’ll meet in the evening.” And with those words, throwing him a long, warning glance, Arien walked away.

Without thinking much, Ives followed his husband — but secretly. To his horror and surprise, he discovered that the servant had led the omega to Thibault. Arien seemed completely calm, unafraid. But the alpha himself felt uneasy and, like a boy, suddenly wanted to listen. And if something happened, he would step in immediately. Arien entered the chambers, and Ives moved closer, slightly opening the door so he could hear everything. At the same time he prayed that no one would pass by and reveal him.

Thibault’s voice was tense. He was clearly holding himself back, trying to sound calm. And that restraint made Ives tremble. Was this what old age felt like — worrying so much?

“You always manage to escape punishment,” the king began. “Sometimes with Ives’s help, sometimes thanks to your belly.”

“I didn’t come here to discuss my punishment,” Arien said firmly. “And not to beg for forgiveness either — that won’t happen. I came to negotiate. May I sit? It’s rather hard to stand.”

There was the creak of a chair — either Thibault allowed it or Arien simply sat down.

“Negotiate? With you?” the king exclaimed mockingly. “You should be grateful you’re carrying Ives’s child. That’s the only reason you’re not executed beside Zelan.”

“Oh, I’m tired of your threats. How many times have I heard them already? You should be negotiating with me.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

“Then I won’t stop,” his husband’s voice lowered. He spoke calmly, not even threatening, but even Ives felt a chill inside. “I will support anyone — absolutely anyone, even the worst bastard — if he promises to follow my brother’s plan. If he promises to restore my family’s good name. If he promises to stop dragging Antarella through the mud. I will help them, spy for them, do anything. You, Thibault, will never have a moment of peace in your life. I will turn your life into hell on earth. You will see traitors everywhere and go mad, just like your grandfather.”

“I should—!” the king hissed.

“What? Kill me? Please do. I’m not particularly attached to life. But then you will lose Lord Boriel — forever.”

“I’ll wait until you give him a son and then—!”

“And then execute me? No. The lord will never forgive my death. Never. And what will you do without him? For all these years the lord has been strength and support for you, and he will remain so — as long as you do not touch what is more important to him than you.”

“And you think that’s you?” Thibault was clearly losing his temper now, and for a moment Ives almost burst into the room. But judging by the sounds, the king hadn’t moved from his place. Then Arien spoke again, his voice cold as steel, and Ives’s heart stopped.

“I am his family and his husband. And he will crush you for me and for his children. So don’t count on him if something happens to me because of you.”

Silence filled the chamber. Or perhaps Ives had simply gone deaf. Suddenly he felt warm, almost light, and his mind fell quiet. At last Arien spoke again:

“So? Do we have a deal? I do not wish harm to Corilan, and every proposal I make will be for its good.”

A heavy sigh followed, and Thibault said quietly:

“Yes.”

Ives stepped away from the door and hurried off. The entire day he spent in a strange euphoria, unable to wipe the satisfied smile from his face. That evening he met his husband in their chambers — Arien was just as serious, gloomy, and cold as usual. But his words echoed in Ives’s mind: I am his family and his husband. His legs moved on their own, his arms reached out on their own. Ives pulled his spouse into an embrace and kissed his temple.

“What are you doing?” the omega asked in surprise, though he didn’t pull away.

“Nothing. I missed you.”

“My lord, what childishness is this? Let go. I want to sleep. My legs and back hurt terribly after today. Carrying your children is a real punishment. It’s always so hard.”

Ives immediately released him, but despite the protests he helped Arien change, put him to bed, and gently massaged his legs and back. Then he stroked the large belly, feeling the baby move inside, until Arien finally fell asleep.

The alpha pretended he knew nothing and looked properly surprised when Thibault summoned him, Arien, Milosh, and several of his advisors to discuss something.

And it turned out to be the omega’s demands.

Not even demands — Arien brought an entire stack of plans his brother had made and everything he had wanted to accomplish. Most of it was thoughtful and sensible. Every point was discussed, often quite heatedly. In such moments Ives almost forgot these were his husband’s proposals and argued along with the others. But in the end almost all of them were accepted, though some were changed.

Finally Arien said,

“And one more thing. Something very important to me personally. My brother must no longer be remembered as a shameful usurper. I want the rhetoric to change — he was a man who wanted reform. Yes, he failed, and he was not right about everything. But he was not the vile bandit you paint him to be.”

The king looked ready to explode with anger, but for a brief moment he thought about it. A second rebellion and a second return to the throne had taught him something. Thibault nodded.

“And also,” Arien added, “the ancestral lands of Antarella should be returned to their rightful heir.”

“The right of inheritance belongs only to an alpha. As far as I know, there are no alphas left from Antarella.”

“That is true. Which is why I want permission for the alpha I'll give birth to to take the name Antarella. I was born an Antarella in a lawful marriage.”

Silence filled the hall. Ives looked at his husband, but Arien’s gaze remained fixed on Thibault. The king himself seemed confused and unsettled. He threw an almost helpless glance at Ives and asked,

“This child? The one you are carrying now?”

“Perhaps.”

“And you will leave the lord without an heir?”

“No.”

Thibault fell silent for a moment and then, looking again at Ives, said:

“Only if the lord agrees.”

At last the omega looked at the alpha — and in his dark eyes there was something close to a plea. In those eyes that had always been cold. And Ives nodded.

Reluctantly, Thibault agreed to that demand as well.

The conflict was settled, and the fire of rebellion was finally extinguished.

Arien’s belly had already grown very large, though the healers said the time had not yet come. People looked at the alpha strangely. Even Milosh did.

One day Ives was walking with his husband when they met the younger king, who said that Thibault was looking for the lord. Ives had to leave Arien with the omega, and, as it turned out, the two of them spent the time quite well — at least Milosh did not cry. On the contrary, he kept giving Ives sly looks. When Ives later saw them walking together, Milosh was smiling and telling Arien something, and Arien was actually listening.

Thibault ordered the children to be brought back to the capital, but they were delayed. Ives dearly wanted to return home, but when he looked at his husband’s belly he grew afraid and decided to remain in the capital until the birth.

Arien, however, reacted very poorly to that idea.

“I’m not staying here. We’re going north, and as soon as possible!”

“Arien, I’m worried,” Ives said, placed a hand on the omega’s belly. “It’s so big, and it feels like you might give birth very soon. What if it happens on the road? I’m afraid I won’t be able to find good midwives out there.”

“It will be fine. I won’t give birth on the road. So pack our things and prepare to leave,” Arien said with complete certainty. Ignoring Ives, he went to the chests and began giving orders to the servants.

“No. We’re not going anywhere,” the alpha repeated more firmly and motioned for the servants to leave.

But Arien grabbed one of them by the arm and looked at him so sharply that the poor man turned pale and reached for the luggage.

“Do you even hear me?” Ives asked.

“And do you hear me? I will not stay in this castle, and I certainly won’t give birth here. So we’re leaving.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I said no. We are staying.”

Arien frowned and pressed his lips together.