Chapter 158: The Secret

Chapter 158: Chapter 158: The Secret

By the time Nero left his dressing room, every visible detail had been corrected twice.

His ceremonial coat was deep purple, almost black where the heavy fabric fell into shadow, fitted closely through his shoulders and waist before dropping into long panels over black trousers. Silver embroidery followed the high collar, cuffs, and front edges in the geometric patterns of the Crown Prince’s house, dense enough to read as royal without competing with the piece resting over his shoulders.

The mantle was the true ceremonial element.

It was a modern interpretation of the old Sahan royal mantles, made from deep-purple fabric that fell from one shoulder and swept behind him rather than enclosing his entire body. Silver embroidery covered it so densely that the original purple appeared almost like a background beneath the metalwork.

His white-blond hair had been drawn partly away from his face and secured low at the back, leaving most of its length loose down his back and over the opposite shoulder. Narrow silver pieces had been worked through several sections near the fastening, subtle compared with everything else he wore.

His shoes were polished black leather.

The soles were purple.

That particular detail required no explanation in Saha anymore.

Orin had merely checked that the shade matched the mantle.

It did.

Nero crossed the private receiving gallery while fastening the last button at his wrist, his pace controlled despite the pressure sitting beneath his ribs. Morning light poured through the tall arches and struck the polished stone floor, broken occasionally by palace staff moving rapidly between the ceremonial wing and the private corridors.

Orin met him outside the western staircase, immaculate in a dark formal coat with the Crown Prince’s household insignia worked discreetly into the collar.

"The main hall is ready. The musicians are in position, the florists have finished, and the kitchens have been informed that His Majesty is no longer permitted to alter the reception menu."

Nero looked at him.

"Father tried?"

"Twice."

"Mother?"

"Intervened."

That explained the outcome.

Hale approached from the opposite corridor wearing full military dress, the dark uniform severe beneath silver decorations accumulated over decades of service.

Nero adjusted the heavy mantle where it crossed his shoulder.

"Security?"

"Locked down. Guest entrances are operating on schedule, foreign security teams are restricted to their assigned sections, and every internal checkpoint has been doubled since sunrise."

"Any problems?"

"Nothing significant."

Nero’s attention shifted immediately to the question that mattered more.

"Sebastian?"

"Duncan confirmed he took Roberta’s medication with breakfast. No abdominal pain, no cramping, and his pheromones were stable twenty minutes ago."

Some of the tension left Nero’s shoulders.

Sebastian’s newly formed glands remained unpredictable enough that Nero had spent most of the morning expecting a call about a surge. Excitement alone could alter his scent now, and Roberta had warned them that wedding-day stress might trigger more activity than Sebastian was accustomed to controlling.

Hale studied him.

"You checked all of this less than an hour ago."

"An hour is enough time for something to change."

Orin lowered his eyes to his tablet, although Nero suspected the movement concealed amusement.

Nero ignored him.

He had one final thing to check personally.

Sebastian.

One of the larger sitting rooms near the ceremonial wing had been converted into a private dressing room for him that morning. Chris had arranged it partly for convenience and partly because apparently several generations of Sahan wedding tradition objected to the couple spending the entire morning dressing in the same rooms.

Nero had considered that unnecessarily dramatic.

By the time he reached the double doors, the mystery surrounding Sebastian’s wedding clothes had vanished completely from his thoughts.

He wanted to check that Sebastian had eaten enough with the medication, make sure there had been no new pain, verify that his glands were not reacting badly to the concentration of unfamiliar alphas and omegas gathering throughout the palace, and leave before Chris discovered he had ignored the suggestion that he wait until the ceremony to see his fiancé.

Nero opened the door.

And stopped.

Sebastian stood near the center of the transformed sitting room while Madame Celestine adjusted the fall of one sleeve.

The green Fitzgeralt suit did not exist.

At least not here.

Sebastian wore white.

A long ceremonial robe fell from his shoulders nearly to the floor, luminous beneath the morning light pouring through the windows. Silver embroidery covered the pale fabric from the shoulders down the sleeves and gathered heavily around the edges, while deep purple lined the robe and appeared through broad inner panels whenever Sebastian moved.

Nero knew the embroidery immediately.

His household.

His colors.

His patterns.

Beneath the robe, Sebastian wore a fitted black high-collared coat worked with silver detailing, formal enough to remain unmistakably him beneath all the Sahan ceremony. A deep-purple sash wrapped his waist, secured by an ornate silver fastening with long tassels falling over one hip. Fine ceremonial chains crossed part of his chest, and a violet stone sat near his shoulder amid the silverwork.

His throat was bare.

Sebastian had been correct about that too.

No collar was necessary.

The entire outfit already carried a far more deliberate statement.

His black hair had been left loose, brushed into controlled waves that reached his shoulders and contrasted sharply with the white robe. When he turned at the sound of the door opening, green eyes met Nero’s across the room.

Celestine’s hands stilled.

Chris stood beside one of the long windows and immediately began smiling.

Lucas looked far too pleased with himself.

Trevor had enough discipline to hide most of his reaction.

Nero remained in the doorway, the silver-heavy mantle hanging from one shoulder and trailing behind him across the polished floor.

Everyone regained spatial and social awareness fast enough to leave them alone.

"Don’t ruin the clothes," Chris said with a wicked smile.

The door had barely closed before Nero moved.

He crossed the room in three long strides, caught Sebastian carefully around the waist, and kissed him.

Sebastian rocked back half a step beneath the force before gripping the front of Nero’s coat, laughing softly against his mouth as Nero kissed him again, deeper this time, one hand sliding around his back while the other remained carefully above the elaborate sash.

When Nero finally pulled away, his violet eyes had darkened considerably.

Sebastian noticed.

"That pleased?"

Nero looked over the white robe, the purple lining, the silver embroidery carrying his own house patterns, and felt another wave of heat settle painfully low.

"You have absolutely no idea."

"I have some idea."

Sebastian’s smile made the problem worse.

Nero leaned forward until their foreheads nearly touched. "You spent weeks torturing me with that green suit and appeared in my colors looking like this."

His thumb moved slowly over Sebastian’s waist.

"I am extremely happy."

Sebastian glanced downward.

"And apparently something else."

Nero followed his gaze, entirely unashamed.

"That is your fault."

A laugh escaped Sebastian before Nero kissed him again, shorter this time because if he continued, Chris’s warning about ruining their clothes would become a realistic concern.

Nero reluctantly stepped back.

His gaze remained fixed on Sebastian.

"We need to get married immediately."

Sebastian straightened Nero’s mantle where Nero had disturbed it.

"That was already the plan."

"Faster."