The council chamber fell into silence the moment Dax crossed the threshold, the door closing behind him with a quiet finality that always made Tyler Bell stand a little straighter and made Andrew track every shift in the king’s posture.
Killian adjusted the mantle at his shoulder with smooth elegance and moved subtly to stand at Dax’s right. Andrew held position just behind and to the left. Tyler was already half-rising from his chair, notes gathered into a single organized stack, eyes sharp with the careful focus of a man who expected trouble. Nadia stood beside Dr. John Bird, her tablet ready, her expression calm but observant.
"Majesty," Tyler said, bowing his head.
"Secretary Bell," Dax replied, voice cool, controlled, a king’s voice rather than the man Rowan had heard committing emotional ruin through several layers of sound insulation.
Dr. Bird cleared his throat softly. "Whenever you are ready, Your Majesty."
Dax nodded, taking his seat at the head of the table with the smooth, predatory grace that always made even seasoned officers reconsider their life choices. His hands rested on the polished wood, still and elegant.
"Begin."
Tyler exchanged a brief glance with Nadia, then opened the first sealed folder.
"We completed the trace you requested on the High Consort’s suppressants," he began. "Our findings are... concerning."
Dax stilled.
Tyler slid a report toward him. "The suppressants Christopher has taken since his late teens did not originate from a standard Palatine pharmacy. They were distributed through a clinic operating in Fitzgeralt territory. It’s a registered and licensed clinic. At first glance, it appeared harmless."
Andrew’s jaw tightened, bracing himself for whatever was going to be said.
"However," Tyler continued, "the medication supply for that clinic did not match its financial records. Someone was providing advanced suppressants, far too advanced for a rural clinic."
Dax’s fingers tapped the table once, quietly. "Who."
Tyler inhaled. "Vivienne Alostora."
Nadia bowed her head in restrained disgust. Killian’s expression sharpened almost imperceptibly. Andrew muttered something that sounded like a prayer for self-control.
Dax didn’t move, didn’t breathe, and didn’t blink, but the anger was there.
"Explain," he said.
Tyler did. "Alostora used shell companies to distribute suppressant variants that should never have been on the civilian market. They were routed through clinics along the northern Palatine border. The one Chris visited was one of them. Records indicate he relied on their prescriptions for nearly a decade."
"A decade," Dax repeated softly, soft in the way storms are quiet right before they level cities.
"He’s taken them since the year he registered his secondary gender," Tyler confirmed. "The pattern is consistent. Quarterly refills. Occasional emergency batches. The clinic kept no recorded justification for the dosage levels."
Dax leaned back, the gold of his signet ring catching the overhead lights as his fingers curled once against the armrest. His expression did not shift, but the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees all the same.
"Vivienne Alostora has been indisposed of," he said, calm in the way only a man with blood on his hands could be calm. "Trevor saw to that over a month ago. She is currently in a state that makes her useful only for scientific research."
Tyler cleared his throat, understanding the euphemism perfectly.
"Her operation was wider than we thought. These suppressants were not mass-market formulas. They were experimental. The intention appears to have been to map long-term reproductive suppression, possibly even to identify candidates capable of transitioning into dominant pheromone tiers."
Killian’s posture tightened a fraction. "So the Consort was not simply a patient. He was a data point."
Nadia’s jaw set. "An unknowing one."
Andrew’s fists curled behind his back, voice low. "Majesty... you think she targeted him?"
Dax’s gaze flicked to him. "No," he said, voice smooth as marble. "If she had known what he was, she would have done more than suppress him."
He tapped a finger once, lightly, but it sounded like a threat.
"She was desperate for a founding after her engagement with Trevor fell four years ago; she pretended to be a dominant omega, but it is not that easy. Christopher is lucky she and her business partner, Benedict, didn’t find out about him "
A pause.
"What about Chris’s heat? Didn’t you tell him that it would start soon?" Dax asked.
Nadia straightened, hands folding neatly over her tablet. "That was our interpretation of his initial results," she clarified. "But with the new labs from this week, it appears his system is... still adjusting."
Dr. Bird stepped forward, lifting a second folder. "If I may, Majesty."
Dax nodded once, the single, controlled motion of a man holding himself in place by sheer will.
Bird continued. "The Consort’s pheromonal pathways are active but irregular. His hormone levels are rising, but the patterns are inconsistent with an approaching heat. They mimic something closer to stimulant-induced arousal rather than a naturally cycling omega."
Dax’s jaw tightened a fraction. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Dr. Bird said carefully, "he did not enter heat earlier. Or the night he was marked. Every physiological spike he registered was tied directly to you."
Silence folded across the chamber with a pressure that made everyone uncomfortable, aside from Dax.
Tyler pretended to read his papers.
Andrew stared at the floor as if it might save him.
Killian’s posture sharpened ever so slightly, preparing for impact.
Dax blinked once, he didn’t know if he should be delighted or worried. "So Christopher reacted only to me."
"Yes, Majesty," Bird confirmed. "Your scent markers, your pheromonal push, and your proximity, those triggered extreme arousal responses. But the endocrine system remained dormant. No surge toward heat. No cyclical activation."
Nadia added, voice controlled, "It is consistent with long-term suppressant use. His body was pushed into an artificial stasis for nearly ten years. He won’t cycle normally for some time. The return is unpredictable."
Dax leaned back, expression unreadable, the tension coiling inside of him could make generals nervous and enemies pray to gods they didn’t believe in.
"Tyler," he said, lifting his gaze to the Secretary, "are there any clinics in Saha that have connections to the one in Palatine?"
Tyler didn’t answer, that alone was enough to make Andrew’s stance tighten. Tyler Bell was not a man who paused unless the answer was bad.
He finally exhaled. "Three, Majesty."
Killian’s head turned sharply in his direction.
Nadia’s fingers curled on her tablet.
Andrew swore under his breath.
Tyler continued, laying out new folders with a steady hand. "Two in the eastern districts under mid-level medical permits. One in the southern merchant quarter, disguised as a reproductive wellness center. All three have inconsistencies in their pharmaceutical inventory. None have the licensing to legally acquire the suppressant variants Vivienne distributed."
Dr. Bird frowned. "Meaning someone else continued her supply chain after her engagement to Duke Fitzgeralt collapsed."
Tyler nodded. "Yes. Quietly. Carefully. For years."
Dax’s jaw flexed once in a controlled line of rage. "Who runs them?"
"Front managers," Tyler said. "Shell directors. All clean. The actual ownership is buried behind six-layer paperwork and offshore accounts. But..." He slid the final sheet toward Dax. "We traced a portion of their funding back to a company Vivienne founded before Trevor stripped her assets."
Nadia’s voice dropped. "So the network did not die with her."
Dax’s eyes narrowed, slow and deadly. "Someone picked up her scraps."
Killian’s mantle shifted with the subtle weight of his posture. "Majesty, permission to mobilize covert inspections."
"Granted," Dax said immediately. "Discreet only."
Tyler nodded. "We already have agents ready to move."
Dax turned his attention back to the report, every line of his face carved in cold stone. "And the formula used on Christopher, was it part of her experiments here in Saha?"
Tyler exchanged a look with Dr. Bird.
Bird stepped forward. "No. His batches were all manufactured in Palatine. Whatever she tested in Saha... it was not the formula used on him."
Dax’s shoulders eased only slightly, just enough to show relief that Chris hadn’t been touched inside his own kingdom.
But the relief twisted into something darker.
"Good," he stood, the weight of the crown settling over every breath he drew.
Tyler cleared his throat. "Majesty... before you go, there is one more matter. Dr. Bird has updated information about the Consort’s physical condition."