Chapter 46: Fine Print

Chapter 46: Chapter 46: Fine Print

Nero closed the bedroom doors behind him and remained there for several seconds, one hand resting on the handle while Sebastian’s voice started faintly on the other side.

He could not make out the words.

That was intentional.

The suite had been designed with enough acoustic insulation that conversations inside remained private even from the corridor, and Nero had no intention of using pheromones to circumvent something Sebastian had explicitly asked him not to hear.

Duncan stood several meters away near the windows at the end of the hall, while Hale had disappeared downstairs to coordinate the medical team and whatever entirely legitimate transportation complication had delayed Sebastian’s luggage until tomorrow afternoon.

Nero took out his tablet.

The engagement agreement was already open.

He stared at it.

Then locked the screen.

Sending it now would be an exceptionally stupid idea.

Not because Sebastian was incapable of understanding it. Sebastian could probably read a seventy-page international marriage agreement while febrile, bleeding, and under artillery fire and still identify the badly written clauses before most lawyers reached page twelve.

That was precisely the problem.

He would understand all of it.

Nero walked toward the sitting alcove at the end of the corridor and lowered himself into one of the chairs, crossing an ankle over his knee while the tablet remained balanced against his palm.

The legal framework itself was not unreasonable.

Sebastian retained every Fitzgeralt title and property right. Nothing transferred to Saha through marriage. His Palatine citizenship remained intact, his inheritance remained protected, and any conflict between his military position and his obligations as the future spouse of the Sahan monarch would require joint review rather than automatic resignation.

Nero had made certain of those clauses years ago.

Not officially.

He had simply possessed a very specific interest in international dynastic law for no identifiable reason whatsoever.

Hale had never believed him.

There were, however, several sections Sebastian was going to hate.

Nero unlocked the tablet again and scrolled.

Section Eleven: Public Presentation and Dynastic Protocol.

That one was going to be unpleasant.

Under Sahan royal tradition, the omega formally engaged to the Crown Prince adopted the corresponding court status immediately after the official engagement ceremony, even before marriage or bonding. That status carried ceremonial obligations, precedence, security protocol, and a public wardrobe distinct from ordinary royal dress.

Including the collar.

Nero rested his thumb against the edge of the screen.

Every formally recognized omega partner of the direct Sahan heir wore one in public.

Chris still did.

His father had spent decades buying increasingly elaborate versions for him because Dax was incapable of experiencing moderation in any form, but underneath the gemstones, metals, fashion, and marital obsession remained a legal and cultural symbol older than the current dynasty.

It declared the omega protected by the Crown.

It also declared who their intended mate was.

Sebastian was going to call it a leash.

Nero was almost certain of that.

Worse, he would have a point.

The official attire would go over equally badly.

Sahan royal clothing was not divided rigidly by sex, but secondary designation mattered in ceremonial dress, particularly for direct heirs and their partners. Sebastian had spent his entire adult life dressing publicly as a dominant alpha, a military commander, and the Fitzgeralt heir.

Once formally named Nero’s fiancé, tradition would expect him to appear in the dominant-omega version of Sahan court clothing for official engagements connected to Nero.

Not immediately.

Sebastian was barely beginning the transition.

That nuance would not save Nero.

He could already imagine the expression.

That perfectly flat stare Sebastian developed when deciding whether homicide would create too much paperwork.

Nero smiled despite himself.

Duncan looked over.

"Something amusing?"

"My future."

Duncan wisely did not ask.

Nero scrolled farther.

There were concessions.

Many of them.

Sebastian would retain Fitzgeralt’s colors alongside Sahan’s violet and silver. His official attire could incorporate Palatine military distinctions. No ceremonial provision superseded active command uniform when Sebastian was performing military duties. The collar could be designed around his preferences rather than selected by the royal household.

Nero had been particularly generous there.

He had only prepared fourteen preliminary designs.

Technically none of them existed yet.

Except perhaps three.

Nero locked the tablet again.

No.

Sebastian was not receiving this tonight.

Possibly not tomorrow either.

The man had a fraction of his normal energy, had started a secondary-gender transition only hours earlier, and had nearly fallen merely standing beside a bed on the aircraft. The Sahan physicians expected the first twenty-four hours to be occupied mostly by imaging, receptor-response testing, endocrine panels, pheromonal mapping, and the extremely irritating task of establishing a new baseline when Sebastian’s existing monitors appeared to have become functionally useless.

Claude had already warned them that the evaluation could consume most of tomorrow and possibly the day after.

Giving Sebastian eighty-four pages of dynastic law between examinations would ensure he spent whatever energy remained arguing.

Under ordinary circumstances, Nero would consider that healthy enrichment.

At the moment, it might destabilize him.

The bedroom door remained closed.

Nero glanced toward it.

Sebastian had been inside long enough that Trevor and Lucas were almost certainly not the only people on the call anymore.

Dean would appear.

Nero knew that family too well.

One parent would tell Dean Sebastian was awake, Dean would demand proof, and within minutes the private conversation would acquire another participant regardless of Sebastian’s opinion.

Nero did not mind.

Dean deserved to hear his brother’s voice.

More importantly, Sebastian deserved fifteen minutes during which nobody in Saha asked him for blood, signatures, biological samples, or permission to alter another piece of his life.

Nero could give him that much.

He could even give him twenty.

A remarkable display of restraint.

Hale appeared from the stairwell carrying another tablet.

"The medical team is ready."

"Give him a little longer."

Hale checked the time. "You said fifteen minutes."

"I changed my mind."

Hale looked toward the bedroom door, then back at Nero.

"Generous."

"I have depths."

"I’ve worked for this family too long to believe that."

Nero ignored him.

Hale noticed the tablet in his hand.

"The agreement?"

"Yes."

"Are you sending it?"

"No."

That earned him a more interested look.

Nero unlocked the document and handed it over.

Hale skimmed the visible page.

Then he reached Section Eleven.

His eyebrow rose.

"Ah."

"Exactly."

"He’s going to hate this. The collar especially."

"Yes."

"The official omega presentation before he has fully transitioned?"

Nero took the tablet back.

"The formal engagement will not happen until he is medically stable enough to attend it."

"That was not my question."

Nero smiled faintly.

"He’ll hate that too."

Hale considered him.

"You sound pleased."

"I contain multitudes."

"You contain poor survival instincts."

Nero leaned back.

"I am not hiding the agreement."

"You are delaying it."

"Until he can read it without exhausting himself out of spite."

"That is surprisingly responsible."

"Do not sound so disappointed."

Hale’s mouth twitched.

Nero looked again toward the closed bedroom.

The thought of Sebastian wearing the formal collar did something deeply unhelpful to his enigma instincts, particularly now that Sebastian had spent half the day nuzzling into Nero’s neck whenever exhausted enough to forget pride existed.

Nero pushed the image aside.

He would give Sebastian the agreement.

He would let him object to every provision, rewrite clauses, insult Sahan tradition, and threaten to throw whatever collar Nero commissioned from the nearest palace balcony.

Just not tonight.

Tonight Sebastian had barely enough strength to argue about luggage.

Nero intended to preserve what remained for more useful things.

The bedroom door finally opened.

Sebastian appeared in Nero’s black T-shirt and charcoal trousers, service phone still in one hand, his expression tired but considerably softer than when Nero had left him.

Nero stood immediately.

Sebastian noticed.

His eyes narrowed.

"You were waiting outside."

"Yes."

"Like a dog."

"A very attractive one."

Sebastian’s face flattened.

Nero tucked the tablet beneath his arm before Sebastian could notice what was displayed on it.

"The physicians are ready."

Sebastian looked at the tablet.

"And my agreement?"

"After the evaluation."

His eyes narrowed further.

Nero smiled.

There would be war over that later.

He was looking forward to it.