Chapter 28: Terms

Chapter 28: Chapter 28: Terms

Hale waited until the armored car had cleared Vesper House before he spoke.

The privacy partition was already raised, sealing them away from the driver and the security vehicle following behind. City lights moved across the smoked windows in blurred strips of violet and gold, briefly catching in Nero’s white-blond hair before disappearing again.

Nero sat angled toward the window, one long leg stretched across the dark carpet, looking remarkably unbothered for a man who had just ordered an omega dragged into Vesper House’s west wing after making him drink the same drug he had attempted to use on Nero.

Hale knew what happened in that wing.

He also knew better than to ask for details.

"Was that really necessary?"

Nero shrugged.

"Yes."

There was no defensiveness in the answer. No anger either.

That was almost more telling.

Hale studied him.

He was not particularly troubled by what Nero had done. Melrose had knowingly attempted to drug the Crown Prince of Saha in a private establishment, presumably to incapacitate him enough that Nero’s ability to consent became irrelevant. In another setting, with another royal house, the man might already have been facing execution.

Cruelty did not offend Hale professionally.

Uncharacteristic cruelty interested him.

"You could have had him arrested."

"I still will."

"After the west wing?"

Nero looked at him then.

"Yes."

Hale leaned back against the seat. "You were very angry."

"No."

"You gave him the same drug."

"He selected it himself."

"And then arranged for his choices afterward to matter about as much as yours apparently did."

Nero’s purple eyes remained on him with cold, absolute refusal to see any hypocrisy in what he had ordered.

"He decided consent was negotiable," Nero said. "I corrected the misunderstanding."

Hale exhaled quietly.

That was what had bothered Nero.

Not the attempted seduction.

Certainly not the omega himself.

Nero had spent his entire adult life surrounded by people trying to get into his bed. Omegas, alphas, betas, diplomats’ children, aristocrats with ambitions, celebrities who wanted the story afterward, and occasionally people confident enough to assume being beautiful would eventually overcome disinterest.

Nero had never slept with any of them.

Not once.

Hale knew because managing the Crown Prince’s security meant knowing who entered Nero’s private rooms and who left them.

Nobody did.

It had never been because Nero was innocent. Hale would have laughed at anyone foolish enough to suggest that.

Nero simply did not want them.

And he had always been remarkably clear about it.

He did not flirt with people he intended to reject later. He did not promise intimacy for amusement. He did not let someone mistake access to him for affection merely because watching them hope entertained him.

When Nero was uninterested, he said so.

Usually politely.

Sometimes even kindly.

That courtesy apparently ended the moment someone decided Nero’s refusal was an obstacle rather than an answer.

Hale tilted his head. "You know that was unusually vicious, even for you."

Nero looked back toward the window.

"If someone is fucking around with my consent, Hale, there is absolutely no reason for me to respect theirs."

Hale watched his reflection in the glass.

"That is not how consent works."

"I’m aware."

Which made it worse.

Nero knew exactly what he had done.

He had simply decided Melrose no longer deserved the principle he had violated.

Hale rubbed a hand over his jaw. "You could have killed him for attempting to drug the Crown Prince."

"Yes."

"And you considered what you did more appropriate?"

Nero’s mouth curved faintly.

"I considered it more educational."

Hale did not answer that.

There was nothing useful to say.

By the time the vehicle passed through the gates of the Crown Prince’s private palace, Nero had already stopped thinking about Melrose.

That, Hale suspected, would have horrified the man more than anything else.

The attempted seduction, the drug, the punishment—none of it had earned enough importance to survive the drive home.

The car stopped beneath the covered entrance.

Nero stepped out and immediately pulled off his jacket.

Hale caught it before it hit the polished stone.

"Burn that."

One of the waiting attendants looked up.

Hale inspected the dark fabric. "It can be cleaned."

"The omega touched it."

"Dry cleaning exists."

"Fire is faster."

Hale handed it to the attendant. "Dispose of it."

"Burn it," Nero repeated as he walked inside.

The attendant wisely nodded.

Nero loosened the first two buttons of his shirt while crossing the entrance hall. The palace was quiet at this hour, only low architectural lighting illuminating the pale stone walls and long corridors leading toward his private wing.

"I need a shower."

Hale followed him toward the lift.

"Your first meeting is at eight in the morning."

"Not anymore."

"I already moved it to ten."

Nero glanced sideways.

"This is why I love you."

"I had assumed it was my personality."

"It isn’t."

The lift opened onto the residential floor.

Nero stepped out, unfastening his shirt buttons and heading to his bedroom. His long hair smelled faintly of Vesper House—perfume, alcohol, and someone else’s pheromones trapped in the crowded air.

He hated it.

His phone began ringing before he reached the dressing room.

Nero checked the screen.

Father.

He nearly ignored it.

Then remembered Dax would simply call Hale.

He answered. "What?"

Dax was silent for a moment. "Always charming."

"I was about to shower."

"That has nothing to do with manners."

"It has everything to do with my willingness to remain on the phone."

Nero dropped onto the edge of the bed and began removing his cufflinks.

"What happened?"

"The article."

Nero’s fingers paused for a second, then resumed their task.

"What about it?"

"Are you going to pretend you don’t know which article?"

"There are many articles about me."

"There are currently enough articles about you and Sebastian that Christopher has stopped sending them to me individually."

Nero smiled.

"That sounds serious."

"Nero."

His father’s tone changed.

The amusement disappeared from Nero’s face.

"What?"

"Palatine confirmed Sebastian’s medical condition."

Nero went still.

Hale, halfway toward the door, stopped.

"How bad?"

"Confirmed final-stage destabilization markers."

Nero’s hand closed around the cufflink.

"When?"

"This morning. There’s going to be a council discussion with Palatine. Sirius contacted us personally."

Nero stood.

"Why?"

"You know why."

He did.

Nero walked toward the windows, suddenly no longer interested in sleep.

"Sirius believes you may be able to stabilize him."

"I can."

The answer came without hesitation.

Dax went quiet.

Nero had demonstrated that much already.

"What exactly does Palatine want?"

"They haven’t formally asked yet. The council is tomorrow. Sirius is likely to propose controlled pheromonal stabilization under medical supervision."

Nero’s jaw tightened.

"How generous."

"Nero."

"If they want my help, I’ll give it."

Dax became immediately suspicious.

Hale closed his eyes.

Neither man trusted that sentence.

Dax asked, "What do you want?"

Nero turned away from the window.

"One condition."

"No."

"You don’t even know what it is."

"I know you."

Nero smiled.

"If Sebastian wants me to stabilize him, he marries me."