Chapter 19

THOUGH THE STRESSof the family visit was behind them, the vague stress of the upcoming visit from the duke remained in the back of March's mind for the next week or so.

He attended more lectures, and spent time in the library, though much more of his time now was devoted to Neroki. He was surprised, one late afternoon, to see Beritz waiting for him as he exited a council room.

"March," he greeted the young noble.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty." Feeling slightly awkward, March was all too aware of the fact that they hadn't had a chance to discuss the offer he'd received about marrying Nero to the duke's son. He wasn't entirely sure Beritz even knew if he was aware of it.

"I was hoping to talk to you. In private, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course." He followed the king into an empty room, taking a seat as Beritz closed the door behind them. Heart pounding, he prayed the talk wouldn't involve the duke's son.

"I hope I'm not interrupting any plans with Nero."

"No." Neroki rarely made plans in the first place, usually just acting on whatever impulse struck him in the moment, March thought, but didn't voice it.

Beritz shifted back into a comfortable position, noting the way March's hands wrung together nervously. "He hasn't upset you, has he?"

"Not at all."

"You look a bit worked up, is why I ask."

Lowering his eyes, March bit his lip. "It's just that I… I'm afraid I might already know what you want to talk about."

"Is that so?"

"Would this be about Duke Terin?"

Beritz' eyebrows raised in surprise before he gave a nod. "That's right. I wanted to make sure you were abreast of the situation, though I see Nero has beat me to that."

"He didn't want me to worry," March said, hoping it hadn't been a secret he was supposed to keep. "I asked him to tell me."

"It's alright," Beritz assured him. "I only wanted to make sure you weren't too upset by the situation." How could he not be upset by the situation, March wondered, nearly voicing the thought.

"I understand your position, Your Majesty. I'm not upset," he lied, curling his fingers into fists on his thighs.

"My position?" Beritz asked, somewhat amused by the pretty male's obvious agitation.

"Obviously, as the king, you have to consider that the son of a duke would be a better choice for Neroki than me. I can't fault you for that."

Chuckling a little, Beritz clucked his tongue. "If I'd been told someone so lovely and intelligent and talented could be so insecure, I'd never have believed it until you."

"E-excuse me?" March gawked a bit at the blunt words.

"Marrying Nero off to the son of Duke Terin doesn't hold an ounce of interest to me, boy. You're who I chose for my son, and I stand by the decision." Waving a hand dismissively, he shook his head. "Nero is devoted to you, in any case. He nearly bit my head off for even mentioning the offer from the duke."

A fluttery feeling, the one he'd been feeling far too often lately, ramped up his stomach. "I see. T-thank you, Your Majesty."

"No need to thank me, March. You've earned your place here. I only wanted to discuss it with you because Duke Terin is meant to be coming to stay for a short time. He has a bit of a reputation."

"A reputation for what?"

"Unpleasantness," Beritz mused, using a more polite term than the one he'd used in other conversations. "I doubt he will approach you, but if he does, he may not be the most civil."

"Oh," March said, grimacing a bit. "I'll do my best to stay out of his way."

"He'll be sitting in on a few council meetings. I'd like you to attend those, if you wouldn't mind. I'm hoping if I can put you in his face and show him that you're a well-spoken, knowledgeable sort, it might lessen the sting of the rejection."

"I can try." It was an awful lot of pressure, but March supposed he had no choice. "He must find it galling that someone like me would be chosen over a more prestigious bloodline."

"March, one thing you have to understand, and I hope you will come to understand it one day, is that a prestigious bloodline means fuck all."

"Y-your Majesty." March blinked in shock.

"The knowledge that Duke Terin has that would serve him in running a kingdom couldn't fill a thimble. That goes doubly for his spoiled son. You wouldn't be repeating that in front of anyone, I hope," he tacked on, grinning in a way that reminded March very much of Neroki.

"Of course not."

"Well, that's about it, then," Beritz rubbed his hands together, standing up. "Unless there was something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No, I don't think so." March said, then doubled back. "Your Majesty… The duke's son. Is his name Pavel?"

Surprised, Beritz ran a hand over his thick beard. "It is, yes. But I don't think I mentioned that to Nero. Do you know him personally?"

"No," March answered quietly. "Not really." When the king continued to stare at him curiously, he made a conscious effort not to let his lips twist into a pout. "I met him after the jousting tournament, that's all. He isn't important."

"No," Beritz agreed. "He isn't important. Is there anything else you wanted to say?"

"I… I guess I would just say thank you. For having confidence in me." When Beritz tilted his head, staring intensely at the noble for a minute, he flushed a bit.

"It's no wonder Nero is so taken with you. It would be difficult to deny you anything when you use those eyes of yours."

Fighting off a blush, March looked away. "I don't use them, Your Majesty. Not on purpose, anyway."

"Yes," Beritz acknowledged, nodding a bit. "That's what makes it so endearing."

WITH HIS ARMSfull of folders, March finagled his key into the lock of his bedroom door, pushing it open with his shoulder.

"Afternoon, sweetheart."

Gasping, March whirled at the voice, nearly tossing his papers across the room. "You are not funny," he complained, clutching a hand to his heaving chest.

"Sorry, I've just been bored waiting for you." On his back, with arms hooked behind his head, Nero stretched a little.

"You could join me. That would actually be a productive use of your time."

"I already know all the crap you're learning. I had way more hours of schooling than you did as a kid," Nero reminded him.

"I'm certain you could find something more worth your time than laying in my bed when I'm not even here."

"What do you mean?" The prince asked, hugging a pillow to himself. "It's great in here. These pillows smell like your hair. Perfect place to…" He made a suggestive face, smirking when March frowned at him. "Take a nap," he finished innocently.

"You really can't help yourself, can you?"

"That's what I keep telling you."

Removing his short coat, March walked by the bed to hang it on a hook. As soon as it was secured, Nero's hand shot out, hooking around his waist and yanking him onto the bed. Letting out a rather undignified sound, March collapsed, landing on the prince in a tangle of limbs. Quick as lightning, before March could begin to recover, Nero nudged the noble's thighs apart so that he was sandwiched between them.

"This position feels familiar to me for some reason," he said, injecting a note of mock thoughtfulness into the words.

"Very funny," March said flatly, balanced on his knees as he straddled the prince's hips. "You really want to remind me about that night, of all things?"

"It wasn't funny at the time, but… You were really, really cute," Nero admitted, dimples twitching into view as March sighed, turning red.

"I made a fool of myself."

"Maybe, but you were still cute. We'll have to get you a little tipsy now and then so I can see you like that more often." Reaching up, he let his hands stroke long lines up and down March's sides as he spoke.

"Maybe." Though being in such an intimate embrace still gave him heart palpitations, he sank down onto Nero's chest. No matter how many times they'd kissed, he couldn't quite block out the panic that coursed through him each time.

Amazed that his plan had actually worked to get the noble settled on top of him, Nero shifted his hands to March's back, lightly kneading the firm muscles with gentle pressure.

"That feels good," March mumbled, nuzzling his face into the prince's neck. Purring a bit in his throat, he arched into the feeling.

"Keep making those noises, and I'm going to show you something that really feels good."

March gave him a light tap on the chest, a gentle warning. "I spoke with your father today."

"My father is absolutely the last thing I want to talk about in this moment."

Lifting his head, March gave the prince a dry look, though his eyes were hazy with relaxation. "What would you like to talk about instead?"

"I'd prefer to use my mouth for something else entirely."

"How do we always end up back to that?"

"Because you are, without a doubt, the sweetest, sexiest person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." March's stomach jumped a bit, but he let Nero's hands guide him down into a kiss. "You've single-handedly destroyed all of my restraint."

"As if you ever had any. You kissed me after knowing me for less than five minutes."

"You were the most beautiful creature I'd ever laid eyes on."

"Enough." Shuddering, March tried to shake his head free of the drugging words but found it impossible. Though lacking the blazing urgency that seemed to define their kisses lately, Nero's mouth lingered on his, savoring with long, lazy movements.

"You were," he insisted, between meetings of their lips. "And somehow, you're even more beautiful now. It shouldn't even be possible."

"I can't think when you're kissing me like this," March admitted, breathless.

"I know." As always, Nero could feel how explosive the sex would be between them. He could already see in his mind how March would move under him, willing, eager. To keep the intrusive thoughts at bay, he shifted, tucking the noble in the crook of his arm. "You can, I guess, tell me what you talked about with my father now."

Lips curving, March laid his head on the juncture between the prince's neck and shoulder. "How generous of you, now that you've satisfied your craving."

"Far from it," Nero denied, relaxed. "Satisfying my craving for you will be a lifelong odyssey, I'm afraid."

Head whipping up, March's eyes were wide as they stared at each other tentatively. Nero's words, no matter how nonchalant he'd intended them to be, hung heavy in the air. It was obvious from the prince's expression that he hadn't mean to voice such a significant thought out loud.

"Y-your father," March stuttered out, inwardly begging his brain to cooperate with his need to change the subject. With great effort, he lowered his head again, pressing his cheek to Nero's chest, where his heart was hammering. "He wanted to talk to me about Duke Terin."

"Ah," Nero forced out a sound of acknowledgment, hardly processing the words, but grateful for March's tact. "And?"

"He's coming to the castle. To stay, for a little while."

"I'll try to contain my joy."

Laughing a little, March snuggled into the body beneath him. "He was warning me that the duke may not be altogether civil to me."

"He will be civil to you, actually, if he doesn't want to feel my boot in his back."

Remembering the dangerous flash in Neroki's eyes when he'd had his room broken into, March believed him. "Please just forget it. If he's rude to me, it's only because he feels slighted by the rejection."

Moving a shoulder, Nero gave a sniff. "Perhaps we should avoid his presence altogether. I'm not sure if I could contain my reaction if he were to talk down to you."

"I'm to attend some council meetings that he'll also be sitting in on, so avoiding him entirely will be impossible."

Nero heaved a sigh. "A fate worse than death. I'm always hoping to avoid council meetings until I'm forced to sit on the throne."

"Your father didn't say you had to go."

"No, he wouldn't have. But I'll go anyway."

"Thank you," March whispered. He hadn't known it would relieve him so much to hear Neroki say the words. Feeling the last of his tension drift from his muscles, he went lax. "In truth, I was afraid that your father would tell me that he was actually considering the duke's offer."

Scoffing, Nero rolled his eyes. "An absurd fear, as he adores you. Not nearly as much as I do, but it's a rather high bar to meet."

Though the words had his pulse fluttering, March allowed himself to wallow, for just a moment, in the feeling they gave him. "Does it bother you," he asked suddenly, "That I can't say things like that back to you?"

"No," Nero answered without a hint of hesitation. "It only makes it more meaningful and exciting when you do."

"I couldn't bear to lose you now," March confessed softly, swamped with emotions. "I think it would kill me."

Fingers tightening on the noble's soft skin, Nero held him as closely as he could manage without hurting him. "Another very absurd fear. You know how much you mean to me." March could only nod, wondering what he'd done to deserve such a perfect moment. "There is nothing that could come between us now. I swear it." Pulling March's head back up so their gazes could meet, so the noble could see the intensity blazing in his eyes, Nero crushed their lips together.