Chapter 11: Five Days

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: Five Days

"Then narrow it, and for the love of God, don’t mention the flame sword."

Nero tapped one finger against the stem of his water glass.

"Well, there isn’t much you don’t already know."

"What about the change?" Sebastian asked.

The question escaped before he properly considered how it sounded.

Fortunately, Nero only leaned back and considered it instead of using Sebastian’s curiosity against him.

"From what my great-grandfather left behind and what the physicians managed to piece together, it takes time. They estimate somewhere between five and twelve months before the secondary gender changes completely."

Sebastian turned the information over.

The articles published that morning had made it sound considerably more dramatic.

"You’ve never tried it?"

Nero looked offended for approximately half a second.

Then his expression settled into an easy smile.

"No. That is for a mate." He reached for his coffee. "I have no intention of accidentally trapping myself in a permanent bond with someone I don’t consider mine."

"Fair."

Sebastian meant to ask something else.

He never had the opportunity.

Nero’s phone began ringing against the table.

The name on the screen made his expression flatten.

"Hale."

He stood.

The movement reminded Sebastian, unnecessarily, how absurdly tall Nero was. Seven feet five of pale hair, long limbs, and royal inconvenience unfolded from the chair before Nero slipped the phone into one hand.

"You should finish your breakfast."

Sebastian glanced at the mostly untouched plate in front of him.

"Are you my physician now?"

"No." Nero smiled. "But Zion is going to find you for rehearsal, and he becomes unpleasant when hungry people annoy him."

"Zion is unpleasant regardless."

"True."

Nero answered the call as he crossed toward the doors, switching into Sahan without breaking stride.

His hair moved freely down his back.

The doors closed behind him.

Sebastian remained alone at the table.

For several seconds, he stared at the place Nero had occupied.

Then he looked down at his breakfast.

Annoyingly, he finished it.

---

Zion found him eleven minutes later.

Sebastian had barely escaped the dining room before his cousin intercepted him at the eastern gallery with Diana, two ceremonial coordinators, and the expression of a man prepared to enforce cooperation physically.

"You’re late."

"I wasn’t aware attendance had become compulsory."

"You’re standing beside me during the ceremony."

Sebastian looked at Diana.

She wore a fitted ivory dress beneath a light coat, her auburn hair gathered into a low twist while one of the coordinators followed her with enough fabric samples to furnish a small palace.

"Can’t you marry someone with fewer organizational requirements?"

Diana smiled.

"I tried. He became attached."

Zion looked betrayed.

Sebastian decided he might like her after all.

The rehearsal consumed most of the morning.

Where to stand.

When to move.

How slowly to walk.

Which entrance would be used if weather forced the ceremony indoors.

Sebastian followed every instruction perfectly once someone actually gave him one, which only seemed to irritate Zion more because it deprived him of legitimate reasons to complain.

By noon, Sebastian escaped.

The headache returned before lunch.

Not as violently as the previous days, but enough that the edges of his vision threatened red while Melanie reviewed estate correspondence in his temporary office.

He took another suppressant.

It helped.

Not nearly as much as breakfast had.

Sebastian blamed exhaustion.

---

The leak dominated international media for another two days.

Nero appeared entirely unconcerned.

That was impressive considering reporters had gathered outside every palace entrance and at least one foreign broadcaster had stationed a medical specialist outside the gates as though Nero might emerge and demonstrate extinct biology on command.

Sebastian saw him constantly.

At dinner, Nero sat between Dean and Christopher while Dean stole food from his plate and Nero retaliated by moving Dean’s entire chair several inches away without interrupting his conversation.

Sebastian’s younger brother was acting that way because his husband would arrive two days later and had no supervisor.

During another rehearsal, Nero appeared in the rear of the ceremonial hall in black trousers and a silver-gray shirt, apparently there to speak with Zion about security arrangements.

Sebastian’s headache had been worsening for an hour.

Twenty minutes after Nero arrived, it disappeared.

The next afternoon, Sebastian encountered him in one of the palace libraries.

Nero occupied a sofa beneath the windows with several documents spread around him, pale hair thrown over one shoulder while he argued quietly through an earpiece with someone in Saha.

Sebastian collected the report he needed from the shelves.

By the time he left, the uncomfortable heat under his skin had eased.

The suppressants were finally stabilizing him.

The timing was strange.

Sebastian refused to make a medical mystery out of medication doing what medication was designed to do.

He had enough problems.

---

Three days before the wedding, Lucas caught him leaving the gym.

"You look better."

Sebastian wiped sweat from the back of his neck with a towel.

"That sounded almost surprised."

"I was concerned."

"I know."

Lucas studied him.

Sebastian wore black training trousers and a sleeveless shirt, his shoulder-length hair tied carelessly at the nape after training. His body still felt overworked, but the constant pressure inside his skull had become intermittent rather than permanent.

"You’re eating?"

"Yes."

"Sleeping?"

"Occasionally."

Lucas narrowed his eyes.

Sebastian kissed his cheek before he could continue the interrogation.

"Go terrorize the wedding staff."

"I do not terrorize them."

"You reorganized the floral schedule."

"It was inefficient."

"Terrifying."

Sebastian escaped before Lucas could retaliate.

---

Two days before the wedding, the palace became almost impossible to move through.

Relatives arrived from Alamina and Rohan. Security doubled. White flowers appeared on every available surface. Staff tested lights in the gardens until nearly midnight.

Sebastian spent most of the day being the perfect Fitzgeralt heir.

He greeted delegations.

Reviewed security changes.

Smiled for several photographs after children outside the palace gates recognized him.

Answered questions from the press without giving them anything useful.

By evening, his face hurt from behaving.

He found Nero on a balcony overlooking the illuminated gardens.

Dean was there, leaning against the railing while Nero listened to him complain about something involving formal clothing.

Sebastian considered turning around.

Then Nero glanced over.

Purple eyes met his.

Something warm settled almost immediately beneath Sebastian’s ribs.

He stopped.

Dean waved him over.

Sebastian stayed for twenty minutes.

The headache he had carried since afternoon vanished.

---

The night before the wedding, Sebastian stood in front of his bathroom mirror and counted the remaining suppressants.

He stared at how much he had left.

Then at himself.

His condition should not have improved this week.

If anything, the chaos should have made it worse.

Yet the worst episodes had become shorter.

Sebastian closed the case.

Perhaps the higher dosage had finally accumulated enough to matter. Perhaps sleep was helping. Perhaps his body had simply decided to stop being dramatic for several days.

He preferred that explanation.

Outside his windows, the palace gardens glowed beneath thousands of warm lights.

Tomorrow Zion would marry Diana.

The family would celebrate.

The press would find something new to obsess over.

And Sebastian could stop thinking about enigmas, bonds, secondary genders, and the fact that every time Nero entered a room lately, breathing somehow became easier.

He turned off the bathroom light.

The last thought followed him into the bedroom anyway.

Sebastian ignored it.