Gabriel tilted his head, brow raised. "No. I'm going to call."
Marin blinked once, but he couldn't compute the idea of Gabriel, the dramatic consort, choosing to communicate first. "Call him."
"Yes."
"Right now."
"Yes," Gabriel said again, flat and final. "Are you sure you're not the one who should be on this bed?"
"I'm very sure about that," Marin replied, already turning. "Unless you enter the room. Then we'll both need medical attention."
He didn't wait for a reply. Just walked toward the door with the air of a man deeply uninterested in witnessing a telepathic marital check-in that might short-circuit the palace wards. One hand lifted lazily in a gesture that said fine, but his posture read I didn't sign up for this.
"I'll be outside," Marin said. "If something explodes, scream."
The door clicked shut behind him.
