The ceremony dissolved into its after-party with the smooth efficiency of palace staff trained for televised events. The dais was cleared, a string quartet in muted suits struck up something elegant but forgettable, and a line of dignitaries formed to offer handshakes, smiles, and carefully worded congratulations under the lights. Cameras tracked every movement like hunting hawks.
Lucas did what he had been trained to do since he arrived at Serathine’s mansion: he smiled, shook hands, inclined his head just enough, and offered the kind of small, wry remarks that made people laugh and feel clever. But beneath the pleasant curve of his mouth, his jaw was beginning to ache. His shoulders held steady because Trevor’s palm stayed at the small of his back, the only anchor he had left after hours of rehearsals, flashbulbs, and noise.
Mia drifted at his right like a shadow of rose-quartz silk, tablet discreetly in hand. Every time a staffer tried to hand Lucas another envelope or list of names, she intercepted it with a polite murmur, her eyes scanning constantly over the crowd like a security feed. From a distance she looked like a lady-in-waiting; up close she was an air-traffic controller.
An older duchess in a sculpted navy dress leaned forward, pearls winking in the camera light. Her smile was pleasant but her tone had the faint bite of vinegar.
"No collar?" she said, as though commenting on the weather. "One would think a Grand Duke would want his consort properly marked for such an occasion."
The words were soft enough to be plausible deniability, but Lucas felt them like a hook under his ribs. His green eyes cut to her for a heartbeat, his fingers twitching against the glass in his other hand. He opened his mouth... ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novel⁂fire.net
...and Trevor’s hand moved from his back to his elbow, steering him with a smoothness that looked like courtly gallantry. "If you’ll excuse us," Trevor said to the duchess, his voice polite enough for microphones but with a glint in the violet eyes that stopped her from pressing. "We’re needed in the antechamber."
Before Lucas could protest, Trevor had guided him out of the reception line, across the hall, and through a side door. The noise of the party dulled behind the heavy paneling, replaced by the hush of a small sitting room lined with dark wood and soft grey chairs. The faint bass of the quartet still thrummed through the walls, like a heartbeat muted under layers of velvet.
"Gods, I want to take you back to my city. These old farts are making me violent," Trevor said before Lucas could open his mouth. He loosened his tie with one hand, violet eyes still sparking from the encounter, the other still at the small of Lucas’s back.
Lucas gave a low, tired laugh, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. "You’d cause a scandal just to keep me from snapping at them."
"You were about half a breath from doing it," Trevor murmured, brushing a thumb along Lucas’s jaw as if checking for tension. "One more word about collars and I’d have dragged you out over my shoulder."
Lucas arched a brow, the green of his eyes finally warming. "You might still get your chance. Protocol won’t know what hit it."
"It’s not like I ever cared about it," Trevor scoffed, stepping closer until their foreheads almost touched. "I have more important things to do than entertain people with no common sense."
Lucas let out a small sound, half laugh, half sigh, and leaned back just enough to look at him properly. "You do realize half those people have the power to make our lives miserable?"
"Let them try," Trevor said, voice low, not bluffing. "They’ll find out exactly why Fitzgeralt survived three generations of imperial politics."
Lucas’s lips curved in a tired, dry smile. "And here I thought I was the dangerous one."
"You are," Trevor said, brushing his knuckles down the side of his neck. "You’re just too polite to show it in public."
Lucas’s fingers tightened in Trevor’s lapel, pulling him a fraction closer. "Maybe you’re rubbing off on me," he murmured. "If I keep you around much longer, they’ll all start thinking I’m untouchable."
"They already do," Trevor said, tilting his head so their mouths almost brushed. "I’m just here to remind you you’re not alone in it."
Lucas exhaled slowly, a whisper of humor under the weariness. "Fine," he said. "Five more minutes. Then we go back out and play nice."
Trevor’s teeth flashed; that smile, that damned smile that made Lucas’s body melt, flickered across his face for a second. He bent and brushed his lips against Lucas’s. "You know, I never thought I was a man with kinks, but you... you are proving me wrong." Another kiss, soft, warm, a press of lips on lips.
"What do you mean?" Lucas asked, a blonde brow raising in mock curiosity.
"I mean..." Trevor pressed his lips again, and Lucas wondered how his mouth could be so soft. "That I want to have you here." He deepened the kiss, tongue brushing Lucas’s lower lip, coaxing his mate to open his mouth.
Lucas’s breath hitched. The faint sounds of clinking glasses and applause filtered under the door, but Trevor’s scent was already crowding it out, dark and familiar. He curled one hand into the front of Trevor’s suit, holding him there, half laughing into the kiss. "You’re insane," he murmured, green eyes glinting. "Someone will open the door."
"Then they’ll get a very quick lesson in privacy," Trevor muttered, his thumb tracing lazy circles at Lucas’s hip, keeping the kiss slow, teasing, and not yet a full claim. "Five minutes, remember?"
Lucas tipped his head back against the wall, letting Trevor’s forehead rest against his. His pulse was up now, but not from cameras or microphones, from the way Trevor’s voice had gone rough at the edges. "You really want to make the gossip pages explode, don’t you?"
Trevor’s mouth curved against his skin. "I don’t care about the pages," he said, low and honest. "I care about you remembering this is yours as much as it’s theirs."
Lucas closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then gave a faint, wicked smile. "Five minutes," he echoed, tugging Trevor closer by his lapel. "And then we go back out like nothing happened."
"Deal," Trevor whispered, and caught his mouth again, still slow, as if trying to imprint himself there before the world came flooding back in.