Chapter 362: Another Crown Prince

Chapter 362: Chapter 362: Another Crown Prince

"Cecil, wait."

Frederik caught his husband by the forearm halfway across the gravel drive, but the effort only slowed him by one furious step.

"Wait?" Cecil twisted back toward him, dark hair shifting across his forehead beneath the cold afternoon wind. "I have been waiting for months, Frederik. Months. And somehow Arik manages to come to this bankrupt little republic before he comes to Agaron?"

The villa rose behind the security perimeter in pale stone and dark glass, surrounded by cypress and low terraced gardens that overlooked the outer districts of Verera. Nurian guards had already noticed the commotion at the gates, although each of them was demonstrating admirable discipline by pretending not to.

Frederik lowered his voice.

"You are shouting in front of half his security staff."

"They can survive it."

"I can hear you perfectly well, Cecil."

Arik’s voice carried from the front steps.

Cecil stopped.

Arik emerged from the open doors with one hand in the pocket of his dark trousers, wearing a black shirt beneath a long coat left unfastened against the mild cold. He had abandoned most of the ceremonial clothing from the morning negotiations, but that did little to make him appear less imposing.

If anything, it made the changes worse.

He was taller than Cecil remembered, broader through the shoulders, his body carrying the same solid weight Damian had always possessed. The resemblance between father and eldest son had sharpened since the Gate, except for Arik’s eyes, which now burned sovereign gold beneath his dark hair.

Cecil’s expression hardened.

Arik’s gaze moved over him in return.

Cecil had inherited the same dark hair and cool undertone as both Arik and Damian, though his eyes remained silver, the exact shade Damian had possessed before taking the Trial. His formal traveling coat was Agaron black with silver embroidery at the collar, immaculate despite the flight and the drive from the Edravan relay station.

He looked every inch the Crown Prince.

Unfortunately, he also looked ready to start a family incident on foreign soil.

Arik descended the steps.

Cecil pointed at him.

"You."

"Yes."

"You came here first."

Arik glanced briefly around the estate.

"It appears so."

Cecil’s jaw tightened.

Frederik released his arm and moved slightly aside.

Cecil noticed immediately.

"Do not retreat now."

"I am not retreating."

"You moved."

"I am giving you room to shout without involving me physically."

Arik’s mouth curved.

That was enough to make Cecil advance the rest of the distance.

"You think this is amusing?"

"Not entirely."

"You disappeared behind the Gate, became emperor of a country no one remembered existed, and left me with your title, your council obligations, and half your diplomatic correspondence, and then when you finally become available enough to travel, you come to Edrava."

Arik’s amusement faded.

"We came for Felix."

Cecil stopped.

Frederik’s posture changed behind him.

Arik did not soften the statement.

"We found him here."

The anger in Cecil’s face did not vanish, but it lost its momentum.

"Felix was in Edrava?"

"Under it, technically."

Cecil stared at him for a moment before asking, "Is he dead?"

"No."

"That seems inefficient."

Frederik exhaled through his nose.

Arik folded his arms.

"He is stripped of ether and under Nurian custody. We needed to move before he realized we had traced him."

Cecil’s silver eyes narrowed, processing the explanation and clearly disliking the fact that it was reasonable.

"So you really came here because of Felix."

"Yes."

"And not because this place somehow became more important than Agaron."

"No."

That should have ended it.

It did not.

Cecil folded his arms to mirror him.

"I am still angry."

"I assumed you would be."

"You have an entire family in Agaron, Arik."

"I know."

"Do you?"

The question landed more heavily than the shouting had.

Arik’s expression changed slightly.

Cecil continued before he could answer.

"Mother and Father are not the only people waiting for you. Orfeo has been asking when you are coming back since communications stabilized. Michael keeps pretending he only wants to see Nuria, which would be more convincing if he did not ask about you every time he calls. Ophelia already decided becoming emperor means you owe her three horses."

That finally pulled a faint smile from Arik.

"Three?"

"She started with two and increased the number because you took too long."

"That sounds like her."

"It should sound familiar. You encouraged her."

"I encouraged ambition."

"You taught a child to negotiate with Father."

"She survived."

"Barely."

Frederik smiled behind them, but Cecil remained fixed on Arik.

"And then there is me."

Arik’s brows rose.

"There it is."

Cecil’s eyes sharpened.

"Do not start."

"I was wondering how long it would take."

"How long what would take?"

"For this to become about the Crown Prince’s workload."

Frederik looked away toward the gardens, suddenly far too interested in the trimmed cypress.

Cecil turned on him.

"You told him?"

"I have not spoken to him."

"Then stop looking guilty."

"I am married to you. I know where this conversation was going."

Arik laughed.

Cecil looked back at him with open irritation.

"This is your fault."

"My becoming emperor?"

"Your abandoning a perfectly functional position and leaving it to me."

"I did not abandon it. Cecil, I became sovereign of Nuria."

"That is abandoning it with impressive justification."

Arik shook his head.

Cecil stepped closer and jabbed one finger against his chest.

"Do you know how many people suddenly discovered I exist after you left?"

"Probably all the people who used to bother me."

"Yes."

"That seems correct."

"It is not correct. It is terrible."

"You are Crown Prince."

"I know what I am."

Arik’s eyes dropped toward the silver insignia at Cecil’s shoulder.

"Apparently."

Cecil slapped his hand away before Arik could touch it.

"I had a life."

"You still have one."

"I had a quieter life."

"That is different."

"A better one."

Frederik finally intervened, walking closer and resting one hand against Cecil’s back.

"You also wanted the title."

Cecil turned slowly.

Frederik held his gaze.

"You did."

"That does not mean I wanted the paperwork."

Arik laughed harder this time.

Cecil closed his eyes for a second.

"I missed you considerably less five minutes ago."

"No, you didn’t."

The answer came too quickly and too certainly.

Cecil opened his eyes.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then Cecil crossed the remaining space and hit Arik once in the chest.

The blow barely shifted him.

Cecil stared at the place his fist had landed.

"You got broader too."

"The Gate did several things."

"I dislike most of them."

"That seems personal."

"It is."

Then Cecil grabbed the front of Arik’s coat and pulled him into an embrace.

Arik went still for only a fraction of a second before both arms closed around him.

The anger disappeared from Cecil’s posture almost immediately, replaced by the tension of someone who had spent months preparing for the possibility that this reunion might never happen.

Arik’s hand settled against the back of his brother’s head.

"I am sorry."

Cecil said nothing at first.

When he finally stepped back, his silver eyes were brighter than before.

"You should be."