Chapter 16 The Quiet Before the Fall
THE QUIET BEFORE THE FALL
SEBASTIAN
Istood in the palace gardens, pretending to review security protocols with Viktor while Apollo sprawled at my feet in a patch of warm light. The air smelled like roses and fresh-cut grass and something else. Something that might have been hope if I let myself believe in it.
Five days since everything changed. Since I broke open in front of him. Since he kissed me like I was something worth saving. Since we crossed every line that should have kept us separate.
Five days of stolen glances and careful distance in public. Five days of learning how to look at him without letting everyone see what I felt. Five days of wanting him so badly my chest ached with it.
And somehow, impossibly, five days of feeling lighter than I had in eighteen years.
“The west perimeter needs additional coverage during evening hours,” Viktor said, eyes on the tablet. Voice level. Professional. But I caught the way his thumb traced the edge of the screen, restless. “Shift change creates gap of forty-three seconds.”
“Forty-three seconds is hardly a vulnerability.” I kept my hands clasped behind my back, the picture of royal composure. “But if it concerns you, adjust the rotation.”
“It concerns me.” He scrolled through something that probably didn't need his attention. “Everything about your safety concerns me.”
The way he said it, quiet and certain, made warmth spread through my chest.
“Walk with me,” I said. Not a command. Not quite a request. “I want to see the changes to the east garden. Papa’s considering a sculpture installation.”
Viktor glanced at the palace windows, calculating. Then nodded. “Of course, Your Highness.”
We moved along the gravel path that curved behind a hedge of clipped yew. Apollo rose, shook himself, and padded after us with the solemn air of a courtier who knew every secret and would take them all to his grave.
The hedge blocked most of the palace view. Not all. Never all. But enough that I could let my shoulders drop slightly, could stop performing quite so hard.
“A sculpture installation,” Viktor said, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. “You are very convincing liar.”
“I prefer 'strategically creative with the truth.'” I kept my pace measured, regal. “Besides, Papa actually is considering sculptures. I simply haven't cared enough to have an opinion until now.”
“And now you care?”
“Now I have excellent reason to walk through gardens with my security chief.”
His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “Your dedication to security reviews is noted.”
“I'm a changed man. Very concerned about perimeter integrity.”
“Yes. I have noticed your newfound interest in protocols.” He paused by a statue of some long-dead ancestor, pretending to examine sight lines. “Strange it only appeared five days ago.”
“Can't imagine why.”
We reached the far corner where the hedge met an espaliered pear tree. Fewer windows here. More shadows. The fountain's steady rhythm carried on the breeze, providing cover for words that couldn't be overheard.
Viktor set the tablet against the statue's base, then straightened, adjusting his jacket with deliberate precision. Anyone watching would see a bodyguard checking his equipment. They wouldn't see the way his eyes found mine and held.
“How long do we have?” I asked quietly.
“Three minutes. Maybe four.” He glanced toward the palace. “Gardeners make rounds at half past. Staff uses south entrance during this hour.”
“You've timed it.”
“I time everything.” Something softened in his expression. “Especially things that matter.”
My chest went tight. I wanted to reach for him. Wanted it so badly my fingers ached. But I kept my hands at my sides, maintained the proper distance.
“This is torture,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Standing this close and not being able to touch you.”
“I know.”
“Looking at you and having to pretend I'm thinking about security rotations instead of—” I stopped. Dragged a hand through my hair, breaking my own composure for just a moment. “How do you do it? How do you stand there so calm when I feel like I'm going to crawl out of my skin?”
“Who says I am calm?” His accent thickened slightly. “My heart is racing. Has been since we walked behind hedge.”
“Good. I'd hate to suffer alone.”
“You are never alone.” He said it simply. Statement of fact. “Not anymore.”
The words settled into my chest and stayed there, warm and solid.
Apollo nosed between us, tail wagging, completely unaware of the tension he was interrupting. I looked down at him and couldn't help but laugh.
“Your dog has terrible timing,” Viktor observed.
“He's a good chaperone though. Keeps us honest.”
“We do not need chaperone to keep us honest. We have palace full of witnesses and careers to protect.” But Viktor crouched down, scratched behind Apollo's ears with surprising gentleness. “Still. He is good dog.”
Apollo leaned into the attention, shameless. I watched Viktor's hands move through golden fur, remembering how those same hands had touched me five days ago. Gentle and sure and devastating.
“You're thinking too loud,” Viktor said without looking up.
“Am I?”
“Yes. I can feel you looking at me.”
“I'm allowed to look at my head of security.”
“You are looking at me like you want to do things that are not professional.” He glanced up, eyes dark. “Things that would get us both in trouble if anyone saw.”
“Maybe I do want to do those things.”
“Sebastian.” Warning and want mixed in equal measure.
“Three minutes, you said. Maybe four.” I moved slightly closer, still maintaining plausible distance. “No one can see us here. No windows. No cameras.”
“No cameras that you know of.”
“You checked. You always check.” I watched him stand, watched Apollo sit between us like a furry barrier. “One kiss. That's all. Just to prove we still can without the world ending.”
“World has not ended yet. That does not mean it will not.”
“Viktor.”
He was quiet for a moment, war playing out across his features. Professional discipline against want. Duty against desire. Then he sighed, and I knew I'd won.
“One kiss,” he said. “Quick. Careful.”
“I'm always careful.”
“You are never careful. Is one of your least attractive qualities.”
“You have a list of my attractive qualities?”
“Long list. Very detailed.” He stepped closer, closing the distance until only a foot separated us. “Another reason this is dangerous. I notice too much.”
“Tell me one thing. From your list.”
His eyes traced my face. “The way you look at children in hospital. Like they are most important people in world. Like their pain matters more than your own comfort.”
My throat went tight. “That's not—”
“The way you carve toys with same focus you use for everything else. Perfect details because they deserve perfection.” His voice dropped lower. “The way you smiled at me yesterday when you thought I was not looking. Small smile. Private. Like you were holding secret close to your heart.”
“I was. Am.” I reached out slowly, giving him time to stop me.
“Sebastian.” He caught my hand, squeezed once, then released. “You are impossible.”
“You like that about me.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
I glanced toward the palace, checking sight lines one more time. Still clear. Still safe. As safe as we'd ever be.
“Come here,” I said quietly.
He moved into my space, close enough that I could feel his warmth. Close enough that anyone looking closely would know this wasn't professional. But no one was looking. No one was here.
Just us and Apollo and stolen moments in a garden that smelled like roses.
I kissed him softly. Nothing desperate or demanding. Just my mouth against his, gentle pressure, the taste of him familiar and new all at once. He made a quiet sound, something between relief and want, and kissed me back with careful restraint.
His hand found my waist, held there, thumb pressing against my hip bone through layers of fabric. Grounding. Claiming. His other hand came up to cup my jaw, fingers sliding into my hair just slightly.
The kiss deepened by degrees. Still controlled. Still measured. But there was heat underneath, banked fire waiting for permission to burn.
I pulled back before we forgot where we were. Before careful became reckless.
Viktor's eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. His thumb traced my cheekbone once before dropping away.
“That was not quick,” he said, voice rough.
“Wasn't it? Felt quick to me.”
“Sebastian.”
“Viktor.” I stepped back, putting proper distance between us again. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being patient with me. For letting me have this.” I looked at him, trying to memorize this moment. “For not running when you realized how complicated this would get.”
“I am not runner.” He bent down, retrieved the tablet from where he'd set it. “And you are worth complications.”
Something in my chest cracked open. Wide and vulnerable and terrifying.
Apollo stood, shook himself, then trotted a few paces down the path before looking back at us expectantly.
“I think he's telling us to move,” I observed.
“He is smarter than both of us.” Viktor gestured toward the palace. “We should go. Before gardeners arrive and find prince and bodyguard standing too close behind hedge.”
“Can't have that. People might talk.”
“People already talk. Let us not give them evidence.”
We started walking, Apollo leading the way like he'd planned this all along. Our hands swung close but never quite touched. Professional distance maintained. Perfect performance.
élodie appeared around the hedge, carrying a folder and looking apologetic. “Sorry to interrupt. Your father wants to see you, Sebastian. Something about this afternoon's appointments.”
“Now?”
“He said when you have a moment.” She glanced between us, and I saw understanding in her eyes. Knew she'd seen something. Known something. “But he's free now if you want to go.”
I looked at Viktor. He nodded once. “I will continue security review. Join you inside when finished.”