Chapter 150: Consequences

Chapter 150: Chapter 150: Consequences

Sebastian regretted several decisions before breakfast, and every one of them involved Nero.

The worst had been allowing his younger fiancé to convince him that straddling him was somehow the sensible option when they had an international coronation to attend less than two hours later.

The argument had sounded reasonable at the time.

Sebastian deeply resented that.

He shifted while one of the Draxilian attendants adjusted the back of his ceremonial coat, and a dull ache spread across his lower back with enough persistence to make his jaw tighten.

Thirty-one years old, trained for combat since adolescence, capable of surviving military campaigns, diplomatic disasters, and years of dominant instability, and Nero Ezekiel Altera had reduced him to calculating the safest angle at which to sit in public.

The mirror betrayed the amusement approaching behind him.

Sebastian met Nero’s violet eyes through the reflection.

"You look far too happy."

Nero’s smile only deepened.

"I’m admiring you."

"You were admiring me this morning too. That is why my back hurts."

The attendant’s hands paused for a fraction of a second before she recovered with admirable professionalism and finished smoothing the white fabric over Sebastian’s shoulders.

Nero, naturally, had no shame.

He was already dressed in deep purple and silver, the long formal coat fitted through his chest before falling almost to his knees. His white-blond hair had been partially secured at the back of his head while the rest flowed freely down his back, making him look exactly like the sort of royal person international photographers would lose their minds over.

Sebastian had spent almost a decade successfully resisting that face.

Apparently love had destroyed his survival instincts.

The attendant excused herself.

Nero stepped closer and placed both hands carefully at Sebastian’s waist.

"I did offer to help afterward."

"You offered another activity that would have delayed us further."

"That was not the only option."

"It was clearly your preferred one."

Nero laughed and bent to press a kiss against Sebastian’s temple.

Sebastian let him.

That was the real problem.

For years, Nero had been met with walls so consistently that Sebastian had almost forgotten what it felt like not to maintain them. Every invitation had been declined, every flirtation ignored or redirected, every attempt at manufactured proximity recognized before Nero could enjoy the result.

He had become soft where Nero was concerned.

Pathetically soft, if this morning was any indication.

By the time they reached the old ceremonial palace, Sebastian had found a dignified pace that did not aggravate his back too badly and decided he would survive the day without medication purely out of pride.

Draxil provided plenty of distraction.

The ceremonial hall looked as though generations of restraint had been collected, examined, and deliberately rejected.

Deep blue and silver silk descended from the vaulted ceiling in enormous layered panels. Pale orchids and winter roses surrounded the raised coronation platform, silver lanterns hung between carved stone columns, and the ceremonial canopy above the throne had been embroidered heavily enough to require its own supports.

Sebastian took in the room.

"Your future coronation suddenly seems modest."

Nero glanced toward the enormous arrangement of flowers surrounding Amaru’s throne.

"Father would never allow this many orchids."

"Chris would."

"That is unfortunately true."

Their seats placed them near the front with the Sahan delegation, while Dean and Arion occupied the Alaminan section farther along. Theo had already disappeared with his nanny toward the private viewing area overlooking the hall, saving a four-year-old from several hours of ceremonial history no child had ever asked to hear.

Sebastian lowered himself into his seat with deliberate care.

Nero noticed.

He also possessed enough self-preservation not to comment, although the corner of his mouth moved.

Sebastian leaned toward him.

"Enjoy that expression while you still have teeth."

Nero became solemn immediately.

"Understood."

The ceremony began shortly afterward.

Sebastian had attended enough coronations and succession ceremonies to understand exactly why they were long.

History had to be acknowledged.

Regional houses had to formally recognize the new sovereign.

The military command had its own oaths.

Religious remnants that Draxil had never fully abandoned required ceremonial blessings.

The royal seal was presented separately from the ceremonial blade, and the blade itself appeared to have accumulated several centuries of symbolism that required explanation before anyone was permitted to hand it to Amaru.

Sebastian listened respectfully.

He also became increasingly aware that his back preferred military briefings.

Nero’s hand eventually appeared between their chairs, palm upward beside Sebastian’s thigh.

Sebastian moved his eyes from the hand to Nero.

There was no teasing in his expression this time.

Sebastian placed his hand over his.

Nero’s fingers closed around it.

When Amaru finally climbed the steps toward the coronation platform, the hall changed.

The man Sebastian had spoken with casually the day before disappeared beneath the scale of what was happening.

The royal seal was placed into his hands.

The crown followed shortly after.

Silver rose into angular points above Amaru’s dark hair, set with sapphires, diamonds, and darker stones that caught blue beneath the ceremonial lights. It was heavier and more aggressive than Sebastian expected, but somehow suited him.

Amelie followed.

She wore pale blue beneath a long silver mantle, blonde hair arranged beneath the delicate frame that supported the smaller coronation crown prepared for her. The dominant omega carried herself with calm confidence through every oath and blessing, though her composure changed when Amaru stepped forward at the end and personally settled the final piece into place.

For a moment, everything ceremonial disappeared.

They looked at each other.

Sebastian found himself smiling.

There was something different about witnessing that now.

He had spent years treating marriage as another political structure, useful when necessary and dangerous when personal feelings complicated it. Even after becoming engaged, part of him had continued seeing the approaching wedding as a collection of contracts, security arrangements, ceremonial obligations, and constitutional problems that required solving.

Then he looked toward Nero.

Nero was already watching him.

The smile that appeared was small, private, and entirely wrong for a man seated beneath dozens of cameras.

Sebastian squeezed his hand once.

Two months.

That was all they had left.

The bells outside began ringing as Amaru and Amelie turned toward the court together.

King and Queen of Draxil.

Everyone rose.

Sebastian applauded with the rest of the hall, relieved by the simplicity of what had happened.

Sebastian could appreciate the fact that it was almost over and somewhere inside this palace there were chairs considerably softer than the one he had been sitting on.

Nero leaned close enough that only Sebastian could hear him.

"I’ll make this up to you later."

Sebastian turned his head.

The expression on Nero’s face suggested he had not yet learned the correct lesson from the morning.

"You will be making it up to me by doing absolutely nothing physically ambitious."

Nero considered that.

"Massage?"

Sebastian allowed himself a smile.

"Maybe."

Nero looked disproportionately pleased with the concession.

Sebastian sighed.