Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 412: For them

Days passed with meetings that tried to pretend they were urgent when they were really just adults attempting to feel important.

Chris adapted to his old schedule in the same way that a body adjusts to a familiar weight: not because it is light, but because it is known.

Mornings became predictable again.

He woke without someone immediately asking for a pain scale.

He drank coffee that wasn’t medically monitored.

He walked to his office with steady steps and only a mild, lingering ache that reminded him his body had done something monumental and was still unimpressed by his ambition.

The palace, too, began to relax.

Not completely; Saha didn’t do ’completely,’ but the sharp edge dulled. Guards stopped moving like they expected an assassination attempt from a curtain. Staff stopped flinching every time Chris breathed too deeply. The medical team stopped circling him like he was a glass relic and started treating him like a man who could, in fact, sit in a chair without collapsing into tragedy.

Even Dax recalibrated.

He still checked. He still touched Chris’s wrist sometimes, a silent pulse count disguised as affection. He still looked up whenever Chris’s voice tightened, like he could hear strain the way other men heard music.

But he stopped hovering in the doorway of Chris’s office like a storm that refused to leave.

He returned to being busy in the way only Dax could be busy - turning national problems into solved problems through sheer will and the quiet terror of everyone around him.

And perhaps most miraculously...

There was no prime minister and no king demanding Chris’s attention.

Not more than usual.

Meetings were scheduled, yes. Reports were delivered, yes. But the constant pull eased.

Sahir returned to normal.

He stopped trying to name anything after Nero.

He stopped bringing up retirement in the tone of a man testing the waters to see if he could drown himself publicly.

He became, once more, precisely what he had always been: a man with sharp eyes, too much influence, and a deeply irritating sense of being right even when he wasn’t.

Chris appreciated it more than he would ever admit.

Normal, it turned out, was a kind of luxury.

Late spring made the palace look deceptively gentle.

The gardens were alive again - green so vivid it looked edited, climbing roses in bloom, sunlight slicing through tall glass like it had permission. The air drifting in whenever doors opened carried warmth and something clean, floral, and expensive, as if even the season knew it existed in a kingdom with money.

Chris was in his office, jacket off, sleeves rolled once in an attempt at looking human while his inbox tried to eat him alive.

The office itself was a polite threat. A wall screen that could summon half the government with one touch. Soundproofing that made the world feel far away even when the palace was a machine.

Rowan stood in his usual position, pretending his presence was casual when it never was.

Anna moved in efficient loops, swapping files for tablets, bringing water, and confiscating an empty cup before Chris could pretend he didn’t need another.

Chris was three approvals deep into a logistics document when his calendar pinged softly, like it didn’t understand it was interrupting royalty.

Chris flicked his gaze to the side monitor.

A new appointment had appeared.

Not added by Anna or his assistant team, and no one he recalls approving.

Chris frowned, an expression that made ministers lose sleep.

He tapped it.

The details expanded.

Location: Off palace grounds.

Time: 14:30.

Status: Confirmed.

Notes: Comfortable clothes. No entourage. Private.

Chris stared.

Then stared harder. Then looked at the bottom of the entry, where the authorization sat in neat system text.

Created by: His Majesty.

His hand went still on the desk.

Rowan’s attention rose by half a degree. He didn’t move, but the air changed as it always did when something unexpected disrupted security protocols.

Anna paused mid-step, eyes flicking to Chris’s face like she could read an entire crisis off his expression alone.

Chris leaned back slowly while looking at the description once again. He didn’t remember Dax saying anything about a meeting. Not even about a public outing. Which meant...

Chris laughed slowly at the thought.

’It’s a date.’

A well-planned, beautifully executed theft committed by a man who ruled a kingdom but still found time to weaponize a calendar to get his husband out of his own head.

Chris stared at the entry again, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less ridiculous.

He felt his mouth pull, helplessly, into a smile that actually reached his eyes.

Because it had been so long.

It was so long for the two of them to be a couple, not as ’the king and his consort’ or ’the national emergency omega and the man hovering over him.’

Nero had arrived like a meteor.

Chris’s C-section had turned the palace into a controlled disaster zone.

And the workload hadn’t eased just because his body had been cut open and stitched back together. If anything, it had doubled, because the country loved new heirs the way it loved ceremonies and control: loudly, obsessively, and with an endless need to touch what did not belong to them.

There had been no room for dates.

There had barely been room for a full conversation without someone knocking, or a doctor clearing their throat, or a report arriving like a threat. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

So seeing this felt like Dax had reached into the mess and simply pulled out a pocket of air.

Chris tapped the appointment to edit it, on reflex.

Access denied.

He tried again.

Denied.

The system helpfully offered a line of text that felt like it had been written specifically to remind him that he’d married a man who treated rules as optional when love was involved:

Only the event creator may modify or cancel this appointment.

Chris’s smile widened.

Anna hovered beside the desk with a folder in her hands, watching Chris’s face like she wasn’t sure whether she was witnessing a diplomatic incident or a domestic one.

Chris’s eyes flicked to her.

"I see you thinking about Nadia," Chris said, amused.

Anna blinked. "I—"

"Don’t," Chris said gently, still entertained. "If you say her name out loud, I’ll have to behave. And I want at least one hour today where I don’t behave."

Anna’s lips twitched, caught between scandalized and relieved, and she set the folder down like it was fragile.

Chris leaned back in his chair and stared at the screen again.

He didn’t remember Dax saying anything.

No warning. No teasing. No "I’m stealing you later."

Which meant Dax had looked at Chris drowning in meetings and recovery and the new reality of Nero and decided they weren’t going to become only parents and rulers.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

Chris’s chest warmed in a way that surprised him.

He looked at Rowan.

"He used my access," Chris said, but the accusation lacked bite. It sounded almost fond.

Rowan nodded once. "He had it during recovery."

Chris’s smile turned downright pleased. "I can’t even be mad. That’s annoyingly thoughtful."

Anna looked at the screen and then at Chris. "Your Majesty... are you... happy about this?"

Chris didn’t bother pretending otherwise.

"Yes," he said simply.

And because he couldn’t resist adding a little cruelty to his happiness, he tapped the appointment again like it might yield to him by sheer arrogance.

Denied.

Chris hummed, amused. "He locked it."

Rowan’s voice was calm. "His Majesty anticipated you would attempt to reclaim control."

Chris’s eyes brightened. "He was right."

The thought made him laugh softly again.

Dax had been busy. Dax had been stretched thin. Dax had been running a kingdom while sleeping in fragments and hovering near medical doors like he could intimidate fate into behaving.

And still, somewhere in that chaos, he had carved out time for them.