Chapter 93: Home

Chapter 93: Chapter 93: Home

"We could go to Altera," Sebastian said, crossing one leg over the other while the steam from his morning latte curled lazily above the cup.

Nero straightened in his seat, one hand resting against the polished wood of the desk in the study he had long since claimed as his temporary office.

"We do not need to go to Altera if you are not safe."

"I’m safe. And this is the party for your birthday. Sahans would riot before receiving the news that you cancelled it."

"They would survive."

Sebastian took another sip.

"They would complain dramatically for months."

"That is also survivable."

Nero’s expression remained too serious for the conversation Sebastian had expected, his violet eyes fixed on him with the same careful attention that had followed every medical clearance since the episode. Even now, several weeks later, Nero still reacted to the idea of distance or unnecessary strain as though Roberta might revoke Sebastian’s stability through administrative error.

Sebastian set the cup down.

"Claude cleared me for air travel yesterday."

"I know."

"Roberta agreed."

"I know that too."

"They both said I can return to normal travel as long as we do not behave like idiots."

Nero leaned back slightly.

"That qualification was clearly directed at me."

"It usually is."

The corner of Nero’s mouth moved, but the amusement disappeared almost immediately.

Sebastian watched him for another moment before his own tone softened.

"I want to go."

That made Nero still.

Not because Sebastian had mentioned the birthday celebration.

Because of the way he said it.

Sebastian looked toward the rain-bright windows before continuing.

"I’ve been here for six months. I know Villa Petrana better than some of my family homes, I’ve seen enough of this coastline to understand why you refused to call it imprisonment, and I’ve spent half a year listening to you manage Altera from this study."

Nero’s gaze remained on him.

"I want to see where you actually live."

"The city?"

"Your palace."

That surprised him.

Sebastian could tell immediately.

Nero’s fingers stopped moving against the edge of the desk.

"Not Dax and Christopher’s palace," Sebastian clarified. "Yours. The Crown Prince’s residence."

For several seconds, Nero said nothing.

The silence was not refusal exactly, but it carried hesitation Sebastian had not expected from a man who had spent years trying to pull him into every part of his life.

"You don’t want me there?"

Nero’s expression changed at once.

"That is not the problem."

"Then what is?"

Nero looked down briefly at the documents spread across his desk, though Sebastian doubted he was reading any of them.

"My palace is not arranged for your recovery."

Sebastian nearly smiled.

"There it is."

Nero lifted his eyes.

"You have a medical wing?"

"Yes."

"Security?"

"Obviously."

"Private gardens?"

"Yes."

"Enough space for Claude and whichever unfortunate staff Roberta insists on sending with us?"

"More than enough."

Sebastian spread one hand.

"Then I fail to see the problem."

"The problem is that Villa Petrana has been configured around your transition for months. Every room you use has monitoring access, emergency systems, stabilizing equipment, and staff who already know your patterns."

"And all of that can be transferred."

Nero did not answer immediately.

Sebastian understood then that the practical argument was only part of it.

The rest was fear.

Not the dramatic kind Nero had shown the night Sebastian nearly went berserk, but the quieter version that had remained afterward, buried beneath planning and overpreparedness.

Sebastian rose from the armchair and crossed the study slowly, the weakness that had once forced him to measure every step long gone enough that he barely thought about it anymore.

Nero watched him approach.

Sebastian stopped beside the desk.

"You’re not going to keep me in this villa forever."

Nero looked up at him.

"I could."

"That would become inconvenient."

"I would adapt."

Sebastian’s mouth curved.

"I know you would."

He rested one hand on Nero’s shoulder, feeling the tension there beneath the dark fabric of his shirt.

"But I want to see your home."

The words landed differently.

Nero’s face softened, and for a moment the crown prince disappeared behind something younger and considerably more vulnerable.

"My home."

"Yes."

Sebastian glanced around the study.

"This is beautiful, but it isn’t yours. Not really."

Nero’s hand moved from the desk to Sebastian’s wrist.

"No."

"And I know Dax and Christopher’s palace well enough. I’ve stayed there before."

"That is not the same thing."

"Exactly."

Sebastian’s thumb brushed once over Nero’s shoulder.

"I want to see the place you chose for yourself."

Nero looked at him for a long moment.

Then his grip tightened around Sebastian’s wrist, not enough to restrain him, only enough to keep contact.

"You really want that."

Sebastian nodded.

"I do."

Something warm entered Nero’s expression.

The reluctance did not disappear entirely, but it shifted, becoming less like resistance and more like a man recalculating everything necessary to make the answer yes.

Sebastian recognized the change and smiled.

"There he is."

Nero ignored the comment and reached for one of the secure tablets.

"If we fly tomorrow evening, the medical team can prepare the palace before we arrive."

Sebastian laughed softly.

"That quickly?"

"You asked to come home with me."

The word home made something unexpected settle in Sebastian’s chest.

Nero continued, already scrolling through the internal schedule.

"The birthday events begin the following afternoon. We can stay in the private wing and avoid the main palace entirely, and if you become tired, you return upstairs immediately."

"You have already planned the entire thing."

"I had contingency plans."

"For bringing me to Altera?"

"For eventually bringing you everywhere."

Sebastian stared at him.

Nero finally looked up, entirely unapologetic.

Sebastian shook his head.

"You are impossible."

"And yet you would like to see my bedroom."

Sebastian paused.

Nero’s smile appeared slowly.

"My palace," Sebastian corrected.

"Of course."

"That includes more than your bedroom."

"I am aware. There is also a dressing room."

Sebastian sighed and moved as though to step away, but Nero caught his hand and pulled him closer until Sebastian stood between his knees.

The humor softened again.

Nero’s fingers settled around his waist.

"I want you there."

Sebastian looked down at him.

"I know."

"No." Nero’s gaze moved over his face. "I mean in my home. Not as a guest staying for a royal event."

Sebastian’s expression changed.

Nero continued more quietly.

"I have wanted to see you there for years."

That stripped away the easy answer.

Sebastian had always thought of Nero’s pursuit in terms of possession, obsession, and the relentless certainty that eventually Sebastian would choose him.

He had not thought about the smaller things Nero must have imagined alongside it.

Sebastian drinking coffee in his breakfast room.

Leaving clothes in his rooms.

Sleeping in his bed.

Existing in spaces that had previously belonged only to Nero.

Sebastian touched his face.

"You’ll get used to it."

Nero’s eyebrows lifted.

"To what?"

"Me being there."

The smile that followed was bright enough to make Sebastian regret how much he liked provoking it.

"I have no intention of getting used to it."

"Why?"

"I intend to enjoy it every time."

Sebastian leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Then book the flight."

Nero’s hands tightened around his waist.

"It was booked ten minutes ago."

Sebastian pulled back.

"You said no ten minutes ago."

"I said we did not need to go."

"That is functionally the same thing."

"It clearly was not."

Sebastian laughed despite himself.

Nero looked pleased with the result.

By evening, half the Crown Prince’s household would probably know Sebastian was coming, the medical wing would be restocked, security routes recalculated, and someone would have moved every potentially inconvenient object in the private residence by several centimeters because Nero considered preparation a form of affection.

Sebastian found that he did not mind.

He was going to Altera.

More importantly, he was going to Nero’s home.

And judging by the expression on Nero’s face, the distinction mattered just as much to him.