Chapter 15

THOUGH HIS PARENTShad never raised he and Myca to be particularly religious, only attending church for occasional holidays, March had always found the act of prayer to be helpful in steadying him. Whether it was due to a benevolent higher power, or simply because it helped organize his thoughts, he couldn't be sure. But as the warm water from the shower flowed over him to drain the tension from his muscles, catharsis flowed through him to dissipate his unease with a cool serenity.

He prayed that he was doing the right thing, staying at the castle. He prayed that he wasn't ruining his life by letting himself get swept away by whatever was happening between him and the prince. He prayed that Neroki wouldn't ruin him.

After he'd dressed, he leaned into the mirror for a routine inspection of his face. Scrutinizing with more vigilance and vigor than usual, he shook his head at his own foolishness, relieved that he couldn't detect any new lines. Throbbing headache aside, overindulging in alcohol could lead to premature aging. Not to mention how ridiculous he must have looked in front of Neroki's friends. No more than an occasional glass of champagne at an event from now on, he promised himself.

A knock at his bedroom door had him leaning out from the bathroom, eyeing it with a bit of annoyance. He hadn't finished getting ready.

"Neroki, I told you I'd meet you- Oh!" Surprised to see Ingrid standing in the hall, March's eyes darted around the hall for fear of seeing Laurel as well. When the sharp-faced blonde was nowhere to be seen, he stepped back to invite her in. "Good morning, Ingrid."

"You're already up and at it, March?" She asked, sounding impressed. "I thought you'd still be asleep. That's why I was knocking kind of quiet."

"I've been up for awhile," he said. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. I guess I just wanted to check on you before we head out. Last night was crazy, huh?"

"Yes," he answered, fighting off a blush. "Sorry about passing out like that. Or if I said anything strange."

She gave a twittering little laugh. "It's okay! I'm no good at keeping track of how much I drink either, so don't worry about it. I'm glad you aren't feeling too badly."

"I'm okay." Though he wasn't used to socializing much, and he was vaguely embarrassed by the concept, he felt mostly at ease with Ingrid. "Neroki made sure I was."

"Oh, good! Boys can be kind of dumb and thoughtless sometimes, so I'm glad he didn't totally blow it."

Laughing a little, March hung his head, wincing good-naturedly. "I guess we can."

"Nero suffers from that gene more than a lot of other boys."

"Ah." March tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Maybe a little."

"Well, yeah. Anyway," her voice took on a higher, cheerier note. "I'm glad everything's all good between you guys. You seem like a good match for him."

March's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You think so?"

"Sure," she said honestly. "He needs someone like you to rein in his stupidity, I think. Maybe you can actually keep him in line a little."

Unable to fully suppress the laugh, March disguised it with a cough. "Um. Thank you." He hesitated a bit before speaking again. "I'm actually kind of shocked you would say that, though. I think your brother might hate my guts."

Ingrid's eyes registered a bit of sympathy, but her voice didn't betray an ounce of disloyalty for the temperamental male. "Don't worry about Laurel. He can be… Intense. And it's been our little quintet for some time. I don't think he was prepared for a new member." There was more to it than that, but nothing she'd have been willing to divulge, no matter how genuine and sweet March seemed to her.

"I see."

"Last night was just a mix of bad circumstances, so… I'd appreciate if you wouldn't judge him too harshly on that."

"Last night?" Puzzled, March tried to recall if Laurel had said anything particularly rude or snotty to him, but nothing came to mind.

"His, er, tantrum. Don't take any of that stuff to heart. He just gets emotional."

"What tantrum?"

"Oh!" Realizing her mistake, Ingrid shook her head. The mildly concerned expression on her face disappeared, replaced by a sunny grin. "Nero must not have mentioned... Forget I said anything. It was nothing, really."

Blinking, March felt his eyebrow raise. "Right."

"Well." A little awkwardly, she stood, taking his hands in hers. "Well, have a good day, March. It was nice getting to spend some time with you. We'll do it again soon, okay?"

He only nodded, forcing a smile onto his face as she left. His mind churned as he slipped into the bathroom to finish preening before seeing Neroki.

"WHAT HAPPENED LASTnight?"

Blinking in surprise, Nero stepped aside to let March come through his bedroom door. "Hello to you, too."

"What happened?" March repeated, frowning.

"I thought you remembered everything," Nero answered, confused. "Don't worry, the worst you did was try to jerk me off over my pants."

"Not that," March growled out between his teeth, resisting the urge to cover his face. "What happened with Laurel?"

"Ah," Nero hedged a bit, his brain trying to write the version of the story that would sound the least alarming. "Not much. He was drunk and high, and he had a little episode."

"What did this little episode consist of?"

"Yelling, name-calling. The usual." The Laurel special, he thought, a bit scathingly.

"About me?"

Nero blinked, his face methodically composed into the most innocent expression he could muster. He wondered which of his friends he would have to kill. "You might have come up. It was mostly incoherent rambling, so who could say for sure?"

"Unbelievable," March breathed out, anger evident in his voice. "You're lying for him. I'm leaving."

"Wait!" Nero slapped a hand on the door March reached for to keep him from opening it. "It's not what you think."

"What do you think I think?"

"I don't know, but it's not that."

"Tell me the truth, or I swear, Neroki. I swear I will leave right now."

"Okay, okay. Just sit down with me, and we'll talk." He waited hopefully as March stared at him with obvious misgiving. After a few moments he seemed to relent a bit, making his way to Nero's bed and sitting, though the expression on his face remained unamused. "It's complicated," Nero started, to which March rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Of course it is. You slept with him."

"That's not what I mean. I mean trying to explain Laurel to you is complicated, because…" Nero hesitated, loyalties warring inside him. "It's just that…"

March's brow furrowed, unease drifting into him as he registered that Nero's apparent difficulty didn't stem from a need for self-preservation. He wasn't afraid of getting in trouble. He was afraid of betraying a friend's confidence.

"It's just that a lot of what makes him the way he is…" Nero finally sighed, letting out a noise of resentment. "This stuff isn't mine to tell. I get why you're upset, March. I do. I wouldn't want to see you hanging around with someone you'd been with either." The very thought had his muscles clenching in rage and jealousy. "But Laurel is my friend. Sleeping with him was a mistake, but it's a mistake I can't take back. You just have to trust me."

"I do trust you." He was kind of surprised to discover that it was true. Despite everything, he didn't think Nero would maliciously deceive him. "It just… It's hard for me to understand how anyone can stand to stay so close to someone they've slept with." He let his head fall down to the soft mattress, curling up a bit. "I mean, wasn't it awkward after you guys did it?"

Which time? The words darted from Nero's brain toward his mouth, stopped only when he clamped his teeth down onto his tongue. Never having been accused of being tactful, he wondered how to phrase what would surely be an unpleasant discovery for March. "Don't get upset, but it wasn't really a one-time thing."

The words hurt, a little. "Did you have feelings for him?"

"Yes."

"Do you still?"

"No." Reaching out, Nero stroked a hand down March's side, dipping into the indent of his slender waist. "I do care for him. We've been friends for a long time. But I don't have those kinds of feelings for him anymore." Silence, dread-inducing, once again stretched out between them like an uncrossable ocean. "Are you upset?"

He wanted to be. He wanted to sulk, and throw a judgmental barb aimed at both of them. But the raw honesty in Nero's words wouldn't let him. "No, not really." For reasons he didn't quite understand, the urge to comfort grew to bursting inside him. But he didn't know how to do that. "Did things end badly between you?"

Blowing out a breath, Nero shrugged. "Hard to explain. They did, but it didn't really have anything to do with us."

"I know you don't want to tell his secrets, but I just don't understand at all."

"Okay," Nero said, trying again. "You remember how I called him an opportunist?"

"That he'd be with anyone that could further his social status. Yes."

"That's not really true. That's what people think. That's what he lets them think. But that's not why he sleeps around."

"What does he get out of it, then?" Again, Nero wrestled with the line between honesty and disloyalty. Seeing the conflict swirling in his light brown eyes again, March shook his head. "Forget it. It's not really my business."

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not," March said. "Really. I'm… I'm glad you told me the truth."

"Thank you for understanding." As he leaned over, his lightened strands of hair brushed over March's face. Their lips met, clung.

When Nero's hand drifted to his face, the kiss beginning to deepen, March pulled back, rolling over to face a wall. "You think you can just kiss me whenever you want now?"

"That's how it works, right?" Somewhat amused, Nero watched the pretty noble work up a suitably fussy expression.

"No." Red, March turned his face into the bedsheets. "This is extremely improper."

"Moving too fast for you?"

Though even voicing the concept was painfully difficult, March forced the words out. "I can't talk about this with you. It's too embarrassing."

Cedar's words echoed in Nero's head mockingly. If it feels good, it must be wrong.

"What are you embarrassed about?" When the pretty noble only shook his head again, keeping his face firmly buried in the soft bedding, Nero chuckled. "You're not really a nun, March, no matter how much you evidently aspire to be one. It's normal for a 20-year-old guy to want to fool around. And all we're doing is kissing. It's not a big deal."

"To you, it isn't," March argued. "You're the only person I've ever… This is all new for me. And I never imagined doing this kind of thing unless… I mean, we aren't even really together and still I'm…"

"I guess I should be more forthcoming with my intentions," Nero mused, understanding perfectly now. "I know we've been pretending, for my father's sake. But I've been wanting more than that for awhile now. I swear."

"Really?" Rolling back over now to stare up into the prince's eyes, March felt his heart pounding like a rabbit's in his chest.

"I didn't think you would ever give me a real chance," Nero admitted. "I know I don't even really deserve one. After the way I treated you before."

"No," the noble denied softly. "I told you it's okay. I forgave you."

"I know. I'm lucky you're so sweet."

Shaking his head, March tried to keep the smile from overtaking him. "Stop that. You're always trying to charm me."

"Trying?"

"Hush."

Grinning, Nero reached over to brush strands of inky black hair from his forehead. "This is a little belated, I know, but… I want to be with you, March. For real. I don't know what's going to happen between us or if it could ever really work, but you're here until the end of summer anyway so we might as well try."

"And if it doesn't work?"

Nero shrugged, glancing up and out of his window, where the sun streamed in. "If it doesn't work, we're no worse off. I swear that nothing we do is going to ruin anything for you, March. You don't have to worry about that."

"Okay. I trust you."

"So you're telling me yes, then?"

Sucking his plush lower lip between his teeth, March gave a slow nod, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel heat creeping over him, and knew he was blushing. "Yes."

"You want to look at me while you say that?"

"Not really."

"You know it's worse when you blush like that, right?" Nero asked lowly, leaning over to put himself directly in the raven-haired male's view. "You drive me crazy when you act so shy."

"I'm not acting."

"No, I know," Nero agreed, but let it go. As much as he loved teasing the high-strung male, he could recognize a fragile, precarious situation. "Are you still wanting to walk with me before your parents get here?"

"We could see Perrin," March suggested, blinking in surprise when Nero's eyes seemed to darken, flashing with intensity. "I-I mean, if you want."

"You want to see him?"

"If it's okay," March breathed out, unsure where the sudden change in mood had come from, or what it meant. "We don't have to if it isn't what you had planned… I just thought-"

"No, it's perfect," Nero cut in. "You're perfect."

Flushed, March pushed the prince's face away from him so he could breathe. "Stop that."