Chapter 29: Fair Warning

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Fair Warning

Dax laughed.

Not the polite amusement he used for ministers or foreign delegates, but something genuine and unrestrained enough to make Nero narrow his eyes.

Hale, still near the door, looked away with suspicious speed.

"What?" Nero asked. ℯ

Dax kept laughing for another second. "Gods, you really are my son."

Nero glanced at his reflection in the dark window, then down at himself with mild offense. His pale blond hair had come loose completely over his shoulders, and with the shirt half-open and his expression sharpening into irritation, the resemblance was annoyingly obvious.

"I should hope so," he muttered. "I look enough like you that people could probably identify the bloodline from orbit."

That was not entirely an exaggeration. Nero had inherited Dax almost offensively well. The same pale blond hair, the same bone structure, the same height that made most men look temporary, and the same eyes—purple, unmistakably Altera. The only real difference was that Dax’s eyes had lightened somewhat after bonding Christopher, their color no longer as dark or cold as they had been in his youth.

Dax made a dismissive sound. "Yes, yes. You’re devastatingly recognizable. Try surviving the administration attached to a royal marriage before you start admiring the family resemblance."

Nero’s mouth curved faintly. "That was admiration?"

"No. That was me refusing to encourage you."

"Cruel."

"Accurate," Dax said. "Do you have any idea what it takes to arrange a marriage involving the heir of Saha and a foreign ducal heir tied to an imperial line?"

Nero walked toward the dressing room, already pulling the rest of his cufflinks free. "A great deal of paperwork, constitutional irritation, and several people regretting their career choices."

Dax snorted. "At least you’re realistic."

"I’m also unconcerned."

"That concerns me more."

Nero smiled, unbothered. "It shouldn’t. I’ll manage."

"You say that like this is a private indulgence and not a diplomatic nightmare."

"It can be both."

"You did it for Mother," Nero said while continuing to undress.

There was a brief silence.

Then Dax said, without the slightest hesitation, "Yes. I kidnapped Christopher."

Hale’s gaze shifted toward the phone.

Nero paused with one hand on the buttons of his shirt.

The admission itself was not surprising. Dax had never bothered rewriting that particular part of family history into something more respectable.

Christopher had been a waiter stand-in at Trevor and Lucas’s wedding in Palatine, young enough and insignificant enough to the royal guests that nobody had expected him to attract the attention of the King of Saha.

Then Christopher had seen something being slipped into Dax’s drink.

He had intervened.

Dax had scented him.

And from that moment onward, Christopher’s employment status had become the least important thing about his life.

Two days later, he was no longer in Palatine.

Nero pulled his shirt free and tossed it aside. "Exactly."

"That is not an argument in your favor."

"You scented a waiter at Uncle Trevor and Father Lucas’s wedding, decided he was your mate, and had him out of Palatine within forty-eight hours."

"Closer to thirty-six."

Nero stared at the phone.

Hale slowly turned his face away.

Dax sounded almost offended by the inaccurate accounting. "There were logistical complications."

"You kidnapped him faster than I remembered."

"I was efficient."

"You were insane."

"Also true."

Nero laughed softly and crossed into the dressing room.

"So forgive me if I find the administrative challenge of marrying Sebastian rather unimpressive."

Dax made a thoughtful sound. "The difference is that I did not ask anyone’s permission."

"That is precisely my point."

—

By the time Dax called Trevor, it was already past noon in Palatine.

Trevor had just returned to his office in the main Fitzgeralt residence, jacket discarded over the back of a chair and the remnants of lunch abandoned beside a stack of security reports. Rain still covered the northern estate in gray, though the clouds had lifted enough for the gardens to emerge from the morning mist.

His phone vibrated across the desk.

Dax.

Trevor answered immediately.

"This sounds ominous."

"It’s polite, actually."

"That is more ominous."

Dax laughed. "I wanted you to hear this from me before Sirius turns it into an official council discussion."

Trevor leaned back.

"Nero."

"Obviously."

"What has he done?"

"Nothing yet."

"Dax."

"He agreed to help Sebastian."

Trevor’s expression sharpened.

"That was fast."

"He didn’t hesitate." Dax paused. "He does, however, have terms."

Trevor looked toward the rain-dark windows.

"Of course he does."

"He wants marriage."

Silence settled between them.

Dax apparently mistook it for shock.

"Yes," he continued. "That was approximately my reaction too."

Trevor rubbed a hand over his jaw.

"Marriage in exchange for stabilization."

"For anything permanent. I convinced him to refine the wording before he attempted to hold your son’s nervous system hostage at the negotiating table."

"That was considerate of you."

"I have matured."

"No one believes that."

Dax laughed again.

Trevor’s attention moved to the tablet on his desk. Sebastian’s medical restrictions remained open beneath a security memorandum.

"He’ll accept."

Dax stopped laughing.

"What?"

"Sebastian will accept the terms."

There was a pause long enough that Trevor checked whether the call had disconnected.

Then Dax said, "Your Sebastian?"

Trevor’s mouth twitched. "How many do you know?"

"The one who has rejected my son with impressive consistency for seven years?"

"Yes."

"And now he’s going to marry him."

"Yes."

Dax sounded genuinely impressed. "What happened?"

Trevor’s gaze drifted toward the windows.

Too much.

Three years of dreams no one else knew existed. Nero dying in Sebastian’s arms over and over again. A prophecy Trevor had only just learned about. Sebastian being stubborn enough to avoid a man he might want because he had convinced himself distance could keep that man alive.

None of that belonged to Dax.

Trevor had promised.

"I spoke with him the other day."

"That explains absolutely nothing."

"It explains enough."

"Trevor."

"He knows what happens if his berserk progresses. He knows Nero can stabilize him. If Saha formally offers a safe solution, Sebastian isn’t going to risk everyone around him simply because accepting it offends his pride."

Dax remained suspiciously quiet.

Trevor added, "And if Nero insists that the permanent arrangement comes with a marriage contract, Sebastian will sign it."

"Just like that?"

"No. I expect there will be threats, insults, several attempts to rewrite the agreement, and possibly violence."

"That sounds more familiar."

"But he’ll accept."

Dax exhaled slowly.

"I genuinely did not expect you to say that."

"Neither would I have a month ago."

"Seven years," Dax said. "Nero has spent seven years wanting him, and Sebastian has spent seven years acting as if being asked twice would constitute a personal attack."

"Accurate."

"And now Sebastian is simply going to marry him."

Trevor glanced toward Sebastian’s private residence through the rain.

"Circumstances changed."

Dax was too intelligent not to hear what Trevor had avoided saying.

But he was also too good a friend to push immediately.

After a moment, his voice softened.

"Does Sebastian know Nero is making the offer?"

"Not yet."

"That should be entertaining."

Trevor closed his eyes.

"Dax."

"What?"

"Tell your son not to look pleased when he presents it."

A pause.

Then Dax started laughing.

Trevor already regretted the request.

"You know perfectly well I cannot promise that."

"Yes," Trevor muttered. "Unfortunately, I know exactly whose son he is."