Chapter 590: Family portraits.

Dean had attended enough royal weddings to know the ceremony was rarely the exhausting part.

The ceremony had rules.

Stand here. Walk there. Applaud when appropriate. Avoid stepping on anything expensive.

The reception was where civilization began to collapse.

By the time Dean and Arion entered the enormous glass-roofed hall adjoining the palace gardens, three foreign delegations, two elderly relatives, a military representative from Palatine, and a photographer determined to document every possible angle of Sebastian’s robe before he escaped it had already intercepted Sebastian and Nero.

Dean accepted a glass of sparkling water from a passing tray and watched his brother endure another photograph.

Sebastian’s smile was impeccable.

His left eyebrow was not.

Dean took a drink.

Arion followed his gaze.

"He’s irritated."

"Deeply."

Sebastian stood beside Nero beneath an arrangement of white flowers and winter greenery, silver embroidery reflecting the afternoon light while the deep-purple lining of his robe appeared whenever he shifted his weight. His hair remained exactly as it had been before the ceremony, resting in loose dark waves against his shoulders.

He had abandoned the haircut.

Dean considered that wise.

Nero had already struggled enough.

Another photographer approached.

Sebastian’s fingers tightened almost invisibly around Nero’s hand.

Dean smiled.

"He’s counting."

"Photographers?"

"Probably bodies."

Arion’s mouth curved.

Nero, meanwhile, looked offensively happy.

He had not stopped touching Sebastian since the ceremony ended. A hand at his waist, fingers around his wrist, their shoulders pressed together whenever anyone arranged them for photographs. Even while speaking to other people, some part of him remained attached to his new husband as though the legal declaration had finally permitted him to become physically inconvenient.

Sebastian tolerated it remarkably well.

Mostly because every time irritation approached dangerous levels, Nero leaned closer and said something Dean could not hear.

Whatever it was usually worked.

Unfortunately, Nero could probably hear Dean breathing from across the reception hall, so discussing it was not worth the risk.

Dean looked toward Arion instead and raised two fingers beside his own temple.

Arion understood.

How long?

Dean subtly indicated five.

Five minutes before Sebastian escaped.

Arion shook his head and held up ten.

They had barely completed the silent wager when Lucas appeared between them.

"You are betting on your brother at his wedding."

Dean looked innocent.

"We are supporting him."

Lucas followed their attention toward Sebastian.

Another group photograph had begun.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened.

Lucas smiled.

"Five minutes."

Dean pointed at him.

"Exactly."

Trevor arrived behind Lucas carrying two glasses.

"You’re all terrible."

"You married into this family willingly," Dean reminded him.

Trevor handed Lucas his drink.

"I have regretted that selectively for decades."

Across the room, the official photographer finally released Sebastian.

Dean checked the time.

Four minutes.

He smiled triumphantly at Arion.

Except Sebastian did not escape.

Nero caught his hand and guided him directly toward another collection of waiting relatives.

Dean’s smile disappeared.

Arion lifted his glass in silent victory.

"Eight minutes."

"I dislike you."

"I know."

The hall itself had been transformed for the reception without losing the clean Sahan architecture beneath it. Long tables curved along the perimeter rather than filling the center, leaving the polished pale-stone floor open beneath hanging arrangements of white flowers and silver leaves. Purple silk appeared only in narrow suspended panels between the columns, enough to carry Nero’s colors without turning the room into an extension of his wardrobe.

The doors toward the gardens remained open despite November, protected by heated terraces and transparent screens that kept the colder wind outside.

Dean had just started wondering where his son had gone when a burst of laughter came from the opposite side of the hall.

He closed his eyes.

"There."

Arion turned.

Theo stood in the middle of a collection of royal relatives and foreign guests, dressed in a small cream formal coat with pale-gold embroidery and dark trousers, his wooden dragon tucked firmly beneath one arm.

Somebody had apparently asked him a question.

Whatever his answer had been, everyone around him was laughing.

Minerva crouched beside him.

Otto stood nearby, looking far too proud.

Chris had one hand over his mouth.

Dax was openly amused.

Dean sighed.

"We lost him."

Arion watched their son receive a small pastry from one of the servers.

"He appears comfortable."

"That is the problem."

Theo noticed them.

"Papa!"

Half the reception turned.

Dean stared at him.

Theo waved.

Dean lifted one hand in response.

That apparently constituted an invitation.

Theo crossed the floor toward them at a quick walk, remembering the prohibition against running in formal clothes only because Minerva called something after him.

The dragon bounced beneath his arm.

Dean crouched before impact and caught him around the waist.

"What have you been doing?"

"Talking."

"To everyone?"

Theo considered the hall.

"Almost."

Arion adjusted the small decorative clasp at Theo’s collar, which had twisted sideways during his travels.

"Where did you get the pastry?"

"Grandpa."

Dean looked toward Otto.

Otto raised his glass innocently.

Theo leaned closer to Dean.

"Uncle Sebastian looks pretty."

Dean laughed.

"He does."

"He looks angry too."

Arion coughed.

Dean stared at his son.

"You noticed?"

Theo nodded seriously.

"He smiles with his mouth."

Dean looked across the hall.

Sebastian was currently posing beside Nero, Dax, Chris, Lucas, and Trevor for another family photograph.

His smile was flawless.

His eyes promised violence.

Dean pressed his lips together.

Arion failed entirely and turned away.

Theo looked confused.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Dean lifted him.

"You are simply observant."

The photographer began calling for additional family.

That was how Dean found himself dragged into the next twenty minutes of carefully arranged chaos.

First Dean and Arion.

Then Theo.

Then Otto and Minerva.

Then Lucas and Trevor.

Somebody added Dax and Chris.

Nayra appeared.

Jax was located near the dessert tables.

Nero insisted Theo remain in front.

Sebastian objected only when Nero attempted to hold him throughout the photograph.

"He has parents."

"He is my godson."

"He is standing between Dean and Arion."

"That is temporary."

Theo solved the argument by reaching for Sebastian instead.

Sebastian immediately lifted him.

Nero stared.

Dean began laughing.

"You lost."

Nero looked offended.

Theo settled comfortably against Sebastian’s side, wooden dragon pressed between them, and smiled toward the camera.

Sebastian’s irritation vanished.

Dean watched his brother adjust Theo’s coat before the photographer signaled again, one hand supporting the child while Nero moved close on Sebastian’s other side.

The camera flashed.

For once, Sebastian did not look as though he wanted to dismantle it.

Dean felt Arion’s hand settle against the small of his back.

Around them stood people accumulated across kingdoms, marriages, disasters, political agreements, births, arguments, and years of increasingly complicated family connections.

Otto, who planned to retire.

Minerva, already transferring a lifetime of work to Dean.

Lucas and Trevor.

Dax and Chris.

Nero, looking at Sebastian like the entire reception might disappear and he would not particularly care.

And Theo, somehow occupying the center of the photograph as though he had been placed there deliberately.

Dean smiled before the next flash.

The photographer lowered the camera.

"That one was perfect."

Sebastian looked toward him.

"Good. Then we’re finished."

Dean laughed.

There was his brother again.