Dean had spent the last four days reminding Arion that fate clearly had a sense of humor.
Five minutes.
That was all Arion had managed after finally reaching their bedroom that night.
Five minutes of closing the door, catching Dean around the waist, and looking entirely too satisfied about having survived Hendrik's interruption.
Then Otto called.
There had been an actual emergency involving a collapsed transport corridor near one of the northern military depots, enough damaged infrastructure to require immediate authorization, and several officers apparently incapable of agreeing on anything without dragging the imperial family into it.
Arion had stared at his phone.
Dean had stared at Arion.
Then Dean had started laughing.
Arion had left twenty minutes later with the expression of a man considering whether abdication was an appropriate response to administrative inconvenience.
Dean had been delighted about the entire thing.
