Dean waited several months before deciding that respecting an ancient enigma's desire to sleep mattered less than getting an answer he'd carried for years.
By then, Naomi was old enough to sit with support, Theo had settled comfortably into his role as an older brother who believed most decisions involving his sister deserved his attention, and Arion's reign had found enough rhythm that an empty afternoon no longer required rearranging half the imperial government.
It was probably the best opportunity Dean was going to get.
He brought it up after dinner, while they were in the private family sitting room and Arion was finishing the last report he had brought upstairs. Dean had Naomi against his chest, her dark hair brushing his chin while she attempted to chew the cloth wrapped around one hand, and Theo sat on the rug nearby constructing something complicated from wooden blocks.
Dean waited until Arion signed the final page.
"Take me to Caeus."
Arion's pen stopped.
