Chapter 18

AFTER GIVING THEMa tour of the castle, March led his family up the stairs to the wing of the castle he stayed in.

"What a view," Amalie remarked, pulling open the French doors to the balcony. "You must love looking out here."

"The sunset is especially nice," he replied, glancing at the clock. "You can see it soon, too." He was glad he'd had time to unpack the suitcases he'd begun packing that morning in his shame-fueled tantrum so he didn't have to try and make up an explanation.

"Will our rooms be as nice as this one?" Myca asked, picking up a plump decorative pillow from one of the large chairs and giving it a testing squeeze.

"We're only staying one night," Roman reminded him. "We don't need as much space as March." Glancing around the suite, she took note of the tidiness that was typical of her son. Everything was neatly organized, even the stacks of folders on the desk.

"Yeah, yeah."

"You're staying here, in the same hall as me," March explained. "All the sheets and everything should be fresh. The castle was packed full with guests yesterday."

"Yeah, because of the jousting tournament," Myca piped up. "Which I really wanted to go to," he added bitterly, with an annoyed glance at his mother and motra.

"Next year, maybe," Amalie answered absently, thumbing through one of the books on the desk, a thick tome on Ikronian history.

"Was it cool?" He asked March, flopping down onto the soft bed.

Blinking, March tried to remember a single moment from the event that didn't involve Neroki's low voice burrowing in his ear like liquid velvet, or Neroki's eyes piercing into him, lighting his blood aflame.

"It was okay."

"Is this the flower collection you were telling us about?" Amalie asked, picking up the book. Opening it, she made an excited little squeak. "Oh! Winter clover! I had no idea it grew here."

"Only up in the mountains in the dragon enclosure. Neroki took me up on Perrin so I could see some."

"Perrin?" Roman asked.

"His bonded dragon. He's… Very interesting and very friendly."

"You've made friends with a dragon?" Amalie's enthusiasm was obvious.

"I want to meet Perrin, too," Myca whined. "But I got to play with Bryndr."

"Bryndr's just a baby," March piped up, noting the way Roman's lips thinned with disapproval. He didn't mention how completely terrified he'd been when he'd gotten startled by her. "Nice and safe."

"It sounds like your definition of nice and safe has been broadened a bit by your time in the castle."

THE REST OFthe day was pleasant, mostly. Nero accompanied March and his family to the archery range, watching with mild interest as Roman sank her shots with relative ease. When she moved aside to let March take her place, Nero's interest multiplied. The sharp focus in the noble's eyes, accompanied with the way his slender muscles flexed and rippled as he went through the motions had Nero's mind concocting a very entertaining fantasy involving testing the pretty male's intense concentration as he sent arrows flying. He supposed he would have to make more of an effort to meet March out here during his early morning exercise sometimes.

Feeling a strange tingle, he shifted his gaze a bit, to where Roman was watching him. Resisting to urge to heave a sigh, and feeling a bit like he was on his way to the guillotine, Nero made his way over to her.

"Enjoying the show?" She asked coolly. Nero flicked his gaze over to where March was still preoccupied. Myca was challenging him by suggesting very specific spots for him to shoot into.

"He's very talented."

"Yes, he is. He and Myca are the brightest lights of my life. I think, until one is blessed with the miracle of a child, it is impossible to understand the grip that they can hold on your heart."

"I'm sure that's true."

"But you can imagine, I'm sure, what it would be like to watch the light of your life wander naively into the mouth of a lion. A rather charismatic, charming sort of lion."

"I can imagine." When she only continued to stare, a bit detached, he offered up what he hoped was a convincing smile. "Perhaps the lion's teeth aren't as sharp as they appear."

"Sharp enough, I would think."

Nero gave a single nod in acknowledgment. "I have no intention of doing anything to hurt him."

"No," she agreed. "Your kind never does. Unfortunately, your intentions matter little in the wider scope, when you leave a trail of broken hearts and shattered virtue in your wake."

"Let me rephrase. I won't hurt March. He's special to me."

"For now," she accepted. "How long he will hold your attention, we can only speculate. I have no choice in the matter."

"Did March give you the impression that I'm corrupting in some manner?"

"Oh, of course not. No," she shook her head. "He was quite defensive of you, actually."

Humbled by the sentiment, Nero exhaled. "I can only say that I'm very fond of him, and the last thing I'm interested in is leaving him shattered and broken, as you've thought to phrase it."

Having nothing else to say on the matter, she gave a minuscule movement of her head in response.

When March returned to them, gripping his lovingly carved bow, Amalie and Myca at his side, he gave them a curious look. "What are you talking about?"

"Lions," Nero answered lightly. Thinking it strange, March gave him an odd look, but let it pass.

Dinner with Beritz was pleasant, with he and Amalie telling stories of their school days to entertain everyone. When the subject of conversation turned to March, Beritz praised him at great lengths, unapologetically. The raven-haired male was flattered as always, but fervently hoped the king wouldn't find it funny to reveal embarrassing details of his visit to his parents.

After the meal was finished, Nero bid them all a polite goodnight, opting to retreat to his room and let them have their private visit in March's wing of the castle. As he turned to the pretty noble, March felt his heart stutter before speeding up. Would the prince actually kiss him in front of his family?

To his intense relief, Neroki merely took his hand, bringing it to his mouth and pressing a very polite and proper kiss to the knuckles there. It was a distinctly different sort of kiss to the ones they'd shared in the lovely little field that morning, but March could still feel his skin tingling after the prince's lips pulled away.

"See you in the morning." The words were innocuous, but Neroki's smugly teasing tone colored the edges of them. As a result, he could only give a slight nod, watching as Neroki strolled away. He desperately wanted to ask what he and Beritz had discussed earlier, but knew he wouldn't have a chance to do that until the following day, when they'd be able to have a moment alone.

As soon as Nero was out of sight, Myca sighed. "You are so lucky."

"Is that really all it takes for the two of you?" Roman asked with a grumble, looking supremely unimpressed. "Dimples and some practiced, shop-worn lines and you're both gawking with your mouths hanging open like fish?"

"Uh, yeah," Myca answered, as if it was the silliest question he'd ever heard. "You don't even like guys, so you don't get how hot he is."

"I wasn't gawking," March denied, pink. Had he been? He sincerely hoped not.

"No, honey," Amalie gently agreed, though she looked amused. "You'd never do something so undignified as gawk."

ONCE THE MOONwas high in the sky, sending cool, comforting beams across the kingdom, and March and Myca were tucked into their respective rooms, Roman sat, tapping her fingers on the bedside table in hers.

"Just relax." Amalie sighed, taking a seat next to her. "Why don't you lay down?"

"Did you see the way he looked at him?"

"They're young," she sighed. "They're in puppy love. Why does it make you so upset?"

"It isn't like him, Amalie. You know that. March isn't the type to get caught up in some silly little affair."

"And why is it silly?"

"This is a ridiculous farce. He didn't want to come here in the first place, and now he…"

"And now he's learning, and changing. He's growing up, Roman. I know it hurts, but isn't that what we want?"

"What if he makes the wrong choices? What if he gets hurt?"

"He will," Amalie murmured, voice softening. "He'll make bad decisions, and he'll get hurt. That's what life is. But March is smart, and careful. And we raised him the best way we could. There's nothing else we can do, except be there for him when he needs us."

"It's not enough," Roman groused, shaking her head. "I hate this. We should never have forced him to come here."

Sighing, Amalie stroked a hand down her wife's dark hair, toying with the ends that dangled over her shoulders, before sliding her hands up to cup Roman's face, staring deeply into her prismatic eyes. "Do you know what my father said, when I told him I wanted to make an offer for the hand of Roman Cesari?"

"What?" Furrowing her dark brow in confusion, Roman frowned. There had never been friction between she and Amalie's parents, despite the slight deficit in their nobility status.

"He told me I'd regret marrying someone so difficult, and that I should try for someone with better social graces. Someone that I could take to parties and banquets without worrying that they'd embarrass me."

"That's fair, I suppose," she said, though the words had a bitter taste to them. "Back then, I was… Not as cultured and well-behaved as I should have been." Full of teenage angst and snarky comments, she remembered with a slight cringe.

"No," Amalie insisted. "It wasn't fair. He didn't really know you. Not like I did. He was judging you based on what he'd heard from other people."

"I never knew he felt that way."

"He didn't feel that way for long," Amalie promised, stroking her thumbs over Roman's lovely cheekbones. "Once he saw us together, and how happy being with you made me, he changed his mind."

"That's different, though," Roman insisted, sliding her own hands up Amalie's arms and into her longer, paler locks, pulling her down so they could kiss. "I never wanted to hurt you. I was… Enamored by you. You were so sweet, and so pretty, like a daisy. You still are," she amended.

"And you're sure Prince Nero doesn't feel that way about March?"

Heaving a sigh, Roman groaned a little in her throat. "I don't know, Amalie. You heard what everyone said, how he gets around. What would be any different now, with March?"

"Maybe he'll think he's sweet and pretty, like a daisy," Amalie mused, chuckling when Roman raised a brow.

"Great."

"Give him a chance," she urged. "If March is happy, we need to be happy for him."

"Of course he's happy. Prince Nero is totally hotand cool. Or haven't you heard?"

Laughing, Amalie nodded. "I think I may have heard that somewhere."

Though there was still a twinge of uncertainty rolling around inside her, the sound of her wife's musical little laugh had Roman's muscles relaxing, nudging her into a calmer state. "Why couldn't we have had a girl?"

"There's still time," Amalie answered, smiling when Roman scoffed.

"I don't know about that."

"Well, maybe March will give us a cute little granddaughter to play with."

Groaning deeply from her chest, Roman rubbed her fingertips in little circles over her temples. "Don't even joke. We should have given him the shot."

"Oh, stop it," Amalie rose from the bed, stretching before kneeling down to pull nightclothes from one of their suitcases. "You're so dramatic. He doesn't need the shot. He'd die of embarrassment if we ever suggested it, anyway."

"Better than the alternative."

"Now you're talking crazy."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Roman admitted, taking the bundle of clothing from her wife's hands. "He's too smart for that."

"If anything, Myca's the one I worry about," Amalie mused. "I have a feeling one day he's going to bring some tattooed, pierced up punk home for us to meet."

"You really don't want me to be able to sleep tonight, do you?"

"Maybe I don't," Amalie said, raising a blonde eyebrow as she slipped her fingers up her blouse, toying with the top button there. Roman's eyes flicked up to the movement, focused there. "Maybe I thought of a better idea to get your mind off things."

"Well," Leaning back onto the bed, appraising her wife with colorfully swirling eyes, Roman tilted her head appreciatively. "Distract away."

IN THE MORNING, when it was time for them to leave, March found himself sad, but somewhat relieved to see them go. Accepting the kisses, and the hugs so tight they stole his breath, he told them he loved them and would miss them.

He watched the land ship make its way down the path leading from the castle, so deep in his thoughts he jumped a little when Nero's hand brushed the small of his back.

"Would you say that went well?" March asked, pursing his lips.

"No." Nero kept his eyes on the retreating ship. "Would you say so?"

"No."

"I love when we agree."

Snorting out a laugh, March shook his head a little, leaning into Neroki's side. "I'm sorry. Really."

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I know, but… I seriously doubt you were really talking about lions yesterday. She can be very stubborn, I know."

"We were, actually. But the lion was me, and you were the delectable scrap of meat resting precariously in my very powerful jaws."

"Oh," March groaned a little, pressing fingers to his forehead. "She's just protective."

"It's understandable," Nero said, letting his hand drift to the indent of March's waist as they walked back through the entrance of the castle. "I wouldn't want my precious, virginal baby getting snapped up and chewed on by some careless lion."

"I'm not sure there's an answer I can give here that won't encourage you."

Putting out a rather dreadful imitation of March's breathy voice, Nero tried to emulate his fluttery blinks. "Oh, please, Neroki, don't gobble me up in your big, strong teeth. Something like that would be fine," he added, in his normal voice.

Biting down on his lip to keep from laughing, March tried to keep a suitably unamused expression as he poked an elbow into the prince's ribs. "That would be all too exciting for you, I'm sure."

"Guilty."

"What was your father talking to you about yesterday?" March asked.

Nero scowled a bit, displeasure showing on his face. "Nothing you need to worry about. Some self-important duke has, for lack of a better term, demanded my presence in Galasite."

Galasite was the next kingdom over, that March knew virtually nothing about. "I see." His pulse tripped a bit, but he tried to keep the distress out of his voice. "When will you be leaving?"

"I'm not leaving," Nero scoffed. "I'm the Crown Prince. I don't scramble to the presence of every aristocrat that beckons me. My father told him as much."

"Oh," March said, relieved. "What did he want, anyway?"

Giving the pretty noble a sidelong glance, Nero sucked his teeth. "He wants me to marry his son."

"M-marry him?" March stammered out, shocked.

"Don't bother getting worked up," Nero said, giving him a light smirk. "The offer was rejected. He wasn't pleased to learn that I am completely unwilling to meet his son at all, though."

"So what's going to happen?" March asked, trying to ignore the mild sinking in his stomach.

"According to my father, that duke is planning to come to the castle in a few weeks. We're sure he's hoping to find some compromise, or outright convince my father to agree to his terms."

"You don't think His Majesty would really agree to anything, do you?" March asked nervously, flushing.

Flattered and excited by the fear in March's voice, the prince steered him to the side, pressing his back to a wall. "You aren't worried, are you?"

Bristling a bit at the rough treatment, March glared up at him. "Well, I was here first."

"So territorial," Nero murmured, using his fingers to tilt the pretty face up into his kiss.

March shivered while Nero's lips did wicked things to him. "Is that a problem?"

"Absolutely not."