Chapter 151: Outside the Line

Chapter 151: Chapter 151: Outside the Line

Melrose Mynatt had never attended a coronation this far back in his life.

The insult had been deliberate.

He knew that because the Draxilian ceremonial staff was far too competent to make accidental seating mistakes involving foreign nobility, and because the restriction attached to his recent punishment had been written with enough legal precision that every royal household receiving the updated diplomatic notice understood exactly what it meant.

Distance from the Crown Prince of Saha.

So while Nero Ezekiel Altera sat near the front of the ceremonial hall beneath Saha’s royal insignia, Melrose had been placed several sections behind him among minor representatives, secondary household members, and people whose names would barely survive the official photographs.

Almost peasants.

Melrose sat perfectly straight beneath layers of pale blue silk and silver embroidery, his expression composed while anger burned through him slowly enough to become useful.

The wedding ring on his hand made it worse.

He could feel it whenever he moved his fingers against the ceremonial program resting across his lap, an elegant band chosen by people who apparently believed tasteful jewelry could make humiliation less insulting.

His marriage had been conducted quickly, privately, and with all the warmth of a negotiated surrender.

An alpha Melrose would never have considered under ordinary circumstances now carried the legal title of his husband.

The man sat beside him.

Melrose had barely looked at him since they arrived.

He possessed an acceptable family name, respectable finances, decent education, and enough social standing that everyone involved in arranging the marriage had described the match as generous.

Melrose considered that an indictment of everyone involved.

Generous.

As though being bound to an alpha beneath him should inspire gratitude because the alternative consequences might have been worse.

His gaze moved toward the front of the hall.

Nero looked unaffected.

That was perhaps what Melrose hated most.

Nothing had changed for him.

The Crown Prince of Saha sat beneath blue and silver ceremonial light in deep purple, white-blond hair falling over the back of his chair while photographers found reasons to angle their cameras toward him even during another king’s coronation.

Nero was beautiful. Untouched. Still engaged.

Still powerful enough that the punishment meant to keep Melrose away had changed absolutely nothing about Nero’s life while rearranging Melrose’s beyond recognition.

The absurdity of it nearly made him laugh.

What exactly did everyone believe he was going to do?

Attack an enigma?

Manipulate Nero with pheromones?

Corner him in a hallway and somehow overpower a man who could reduce anyone normal to ashes?

The restriction was theatrical.

Humiliating rather than practical.

And Nero probably had not thought about him once since it was imposed.

Melrose’s fingers tightened around the program.

His husband shifted beside him.

"You’re bending it."

Melrose looked down.

A crease had formed across the heavy paper.

He smoothed it once.

"Thank you."

The alpha seemed to recognize the dismissal and returned his attention to the coronation.

At least he could be trained.

Melrose looked forward again.

That was when he noticed Sebastian.

He had, of course, seen photographs.

Everyone had.

Sebastian Fitzgeralt’s transfer to Saha, his engagement to Nero, the constitutional negotiations surrounding Fitzgeralt, the first domestic appearances after his condition stabilized—there had been enough coverage to make avoiding him impossible.

Photographs had not prepared Melrose for the difference in person.

Sebastian sat beside Nero wearing white and silver with deep-purple details worked into the formal coat, dark hair brushing his shoulders and an absurdly expensive collar visible at his throat. His body had changed since the older photographs Melrose remembered from Palatine events, less severe through certain lines while retaining the broad shoulders and physical presence of a man raised for military command.

The transition was visible if someone knew what to look for.

So was Nero’s obsession.

Melrose watched the crown prince extend one hand quietly between their chairs.

Sebastian looked at it before placing his own over Nero’s.

No performance.

The familiarity irritated Melrose more than a public kiss would have.

Nero had spent years pursuing him.

Everyone knew that much now.

And somehow Sebastian Fitzgeralt, who had rejected him for nearly a decade, had changed his mind so thoroughly that he sat in another kingdom wearing Nero’s collar and holding his hand during a coronation.

Melrose studied Sebastian instead.

The punishment documents had been extremely specific.

He knew because he had read every page until he could recite the important clauses from memory.

He was prohibited from approaching Nero without formal authorization, contacting him through private channels, engineering social proximity, sending gifts, employing intermediaries to reach him, or interfering directly with the Crown Prince of Saha’s personal security and household.

Nero’s name appeared repeatedly.

Sebastian’s did not.

Melrose’s eyes followed Sebastian when the hall rose for Amaru’s final presentation.

Sebastian moved carefully.

Almost imperceptibly, but Melrose caught it.

A physical discomfort of some kind.

Nero noticed too, leaning toward him before Sebastian said something that made the crown prince’s expression change into suppressed amusement.

Then Sebastian smiled.

Melrose felt something cold settle into place.

That was the opening everyone else had been too stupid to consider.

Nero could not be reached directly.

Fine.

Sebastian could.

Not through seduction; Melrose was not delusional enough to believe Sebastian Fitzgeralt would fall into his arms because an attractive omega smiled at him.

Something simpler would work.

Information.

Doubt.

A discrepancy between what Sebastian believed and what Nero had actually done.

A secret.

There was always a secret.

No relationship involving Nero could possibly be as clean as it appeared from across a ceremonial hall.

Melrose knew what Nero was.

Men like him left evidence in messages, Payments, interference, or people who had been moved, bought, silenced, promoted, or reassigned.

Melrose did not need to know what he was searching for yet.

He only needed to search.

If he found something Sebastian had never been told, the rest would become wonderfully simple.

His gaze dropped briefly toward the collar around Sebastian’s throat.

Melrose smiled faintly.

If the truth proved disappointing, there were other options.

People believed lies most easily when the lie confirmed something they already feared.

Sebastian had resisted Nero for years.

There had been a reason.

Melrose merely needed to find it.

Or manufacture one convincing enough to replace it.

The bells began ringing throughout Draxil.

The hall erupted into applause as Amaru and Amelie turned beneath their new crowns.

Melrose rose with everyone else, his husband beside him and his wedding ring cold against his finger.

At the front, Sebastian leaned toward Nero.

Nero smiled at whatever he said.

Melrose watched them.

His punishment required him to stay away from the Crown Prince of Saha.

Very well.

Sebastian Fitzgeralt was not the Crown Prince of Saha.

Not yet, anyway.