Chapter 555: Birthday
Arion and Dean kept their word.
They told nobody. Not Dax, despite Asair having raised him. Not Chris. Not Sebastian. Certainly not Nero.
Matthias appeared equally determined to leave the subject buried, although his chosen method was considerably more obvious.
He avoided Nero.
By the afternoon of Nero’s birthday, Dean had watched Matthias discover an impressive number of reasons to remain on the opposite side of whatever room the Sahan crown prince entered. He inspected security arrangements with Hunter, volunteered to accompany Theodore’s belongings upstairs, and once became intensely interested in a balcony door that had already been checked twice.
Dean said nothing.
Neither did Arion.
The evening reception was being held in one of the southern palace halls, where tall arched doors opened directly onto illuminated gardens. Altera’s late-spring air was already warm enough that guests moved between the ballroom and terraces without coats, carrying the scent of flowering citrus and night-blooming vines indoors.
Nero had requested a small birthday celebration.
Apparently, Saha interpreted small as several hundred relatives, senior officials, old family friends, and nobles Nero could tolerate for longer than five minutes.
Dean entered beside Arion with Theodore in his arms.
His own formal suit was deep green with understated embroidery along the collar and cuffs, while Arion wore black with muted gold detailing that matched his eyes. Theo had been dressed in cream with tiny gold buttons.
Nero had requested purple.
Dean had ignored him.
They made it perhaps ten meters into the hall before Nero appeared.
"My present."
Dean tightened his arms around Theo.
"You have presents."
"I have things. He is different."
Theo heard Nero’s voice and immediately began kicking.
Dean looked down at his son.
"Absolutely no loyalty."
Nero held out his hands.
Theo leaned toward him enthusiastically.
Arion sighed. "You have been replaced."
"Apparently."
Dean surrendered the baby.
Nero looked entirely too pleased as he settled Theo onto one arm. Against his extraordinary height, Theodore still appeared much smaller than he actually was now, despite having grown into a sturdy, endlessly curious baby who had begun treating stationary furniture as a challenge.
"There." Nero kissed his dark hair. "Someone appreciates me."
Theo grabbed a fistful of white-blond hair.
Nero accepted this as affection.
From that point onward, Theodore barely left his godfather.
He remained on Nero’s hip while guests approached, sat on his lap through part of dinner, attempted to steal an ornamental ribbon from one of the wrapped gifts, and laughed whenever Nero lifted him high enough to inspect whatever had caught his attention across the room.
The media loved him.
That part required more care.
Theo’s eyes had begun the evening gold, but excitement made the changes unpredictable. Dean noticed the first shift while Nero spoke with several officials near the terrace doors.
Gold disappeared beneath black.
A photographer raised a camera.
Nero reacted without even breaking the conversation.
He turned Theodore inward and tucked the baby’s face against his shoulder, one large hand covering the back of his head.
"He’s tired," Nero said casually.
Theo immediately began chewing Nero’s collar.
Dean hid a smile.
"He is frighteningly good at that," Arion murmured beside him.
"He has spent his entire life hiding what he is."
The second time Theo’s eyes darkened, Nero simply adjusted him higher and let his long hair fall forward around the baby’s face while continuing an entirely unrelated conversation.
Nobody appeared to notice.
Late in the evening, Theodore was still stubbornly awake when Dean saw a familiar figure entering from the terrace.
He stood before he consciously decided to.
"Grandma."
Arion followed his gaze.
Serathine D’Argente had changed since Dean last saw her in person.
Her once-red hair was now entirely white, arranged in an elegant high bun beneath a small silver tiara. She was approaching eighty and carried a slender carved cane, her pale lavender gown falling in clean structured lines with silver embroidery along the sleeves and bodice.
Age had taken her ability to fly several years earlier.
Eventually, the colder seasons elsewhere had become uncomfortable enough that she retired permanently to Saha, where Altera’s warmer, almost tropical climate suited her considerably better.
Travel had become difficult.
Which was why she had never met Theo.
Dean crossed the distance quickly.
Serathine smiled before he reached her.
"There you are."
Dean bent and kissed her cheek.
"You could have warned me you were coming tonight."
"And let Nero turn it into a procession?"
"That is fair."
She caught his chin briefly between her fingers and examined him with the same unapologetic scrutiny she had used since Lucas first brought his children into her life.
"You look well."
"I am."
"And sleeping?"
Dean paused.
Serathine narrowed her amber eyes.
"Mostly."
"That means no."
"Grandma."
"You have a baby. I expected the answer."
Dean laughed and slipped an arm around her shoulders for a moment.
Serathine had adopted Lucas long before Dean existed, but there had never been anything conditional about what followed from that choice. She was Lucas’s mother; therefore, Dean and Sebastian were her grandchildren.
And Theodore was her great-grandson.
She looked past Dean.
Nero was already approaching with Theo.
Serathine’s attention shifted immediately.
Her face softened.
"So that is him."
Dean smiled.
"That’s Theo."
Nero arrived looking as though he personally deserved credit for producing the child.
"He likes me best."
"He has remembered you for two days," Serathine replied.
"He has excellent judgment."
Serathine looked at Nero properly.
Then her eyes dropped.
Her expression became severe.
"Your sash."
Nero glanced down.
"What about it?"
"It is sitting incorrectly."
"It has remained on my body all evening."
"That was not what I said."
Dean bit the inside of his cheek.
Nero, crown prince of Saha, secret enigma, possible Titan capable of distorting reality around his will, immediately bent so an eighty-year-old duchess could fix his ceremonial sash.
Serathine adjusted the fastening, smoothed the fabric once, then stepped back.
"Better."
"Thank you."
"You are welcome."
Arion had joined Dean by then and was visibly trying not to laugh.
Nero straightened before presenting Theo.
"Would you like him?"
Serathine’s expression softened again.
"If his father permits it."
Dean nodded.
Nero transferred Theo carefully into her arms.
For once, Theodore went completely quiet.
He studied her face with black eyes, fascinated by the silver tiara above her white hair.
Serathine studied him just as closely.
"My great-grandson," she murmured.
Something tightened pleasantly in Dean’s chest.
Theo reached toward her tiara.
Serathine caught his hand before he reached it.
"No."
Theo blinked.
"You may inherit many things, sweetheart. This is not one of them."
Nero immediately said, "I can commission him one."
Serathine turned her head.
"You will not."
"I already did."
Dean closed his eyes.
"Three," Nero added.
Serathine stared at him.
"You spoil children disgracefully."
"I spoil people I love."
The answer softened her despite herself.
Nero bent and kissed her temple.
Dean watched the gesture with a smile.
Nero had adored Serathine for years, with the comfortable affection of someone who had long since accepted her as another grandmother capable of correcting him without fear or ceremony. She, in return, treated the most intimidating man in the room as though his principal character flaw remained poor etiquette.
Theo made a happy sound and patted Serathine’s cheek.
Her entire attention returned to him.
Across the ballroom, Matthias stood beside Hunter near one of the open terrace doors.
His eyes briefly found Nero.
Then Serathine.
Then Theodore in her arms.
He looked away before anyone except Arion and Dean could notice.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
Tonight belonged to family.