Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Dinner was held in one of Palatine’s smaller imperial dining rooms, which still meant a table long enough for twelve people, carved walnut walls, and three chandeliers throwing warm light across crystal and polished silver.

Outside the tall windows, snow continued to fall over the inner gardens, settling along the stone balustrades and the dark branches of the winter roses. Inside, the fire had been built high enough that Lucas had abandoned his jacket before the first course.

Serathine sat at Ethan’s right in deep green silk, her red hair pinned loosely at the nape of her neck with several silver combs. Time had done remarkably little to diminish her presence. At nearly sixty, her face carried fine lines around sharp amber eyes, but nothing about her suggested fragility.

Dean had once heard someone describe her as retired.

The person had clearly never met her.

Sebastian sat several places away in a dark navy suit, one hand resting beside his wineglass while he listened to Sirius explain a dispute involving one of Palatine’s northern governors. Trevor occasionally interrupted with questions precise enough to make Sirius reach for supporting documents that were not supposed to exist at a family dinner.

Dean sat between Arion and Lucas and concentrated on his food.

It was going remarkably well.

Then Ethan looked at Zion.

"You need to marry."

Zion stopped cutting into his roast.

Dean looked up immediately.

There were very few opportunities in life to watch someone else become the target of family expectations.

He intended to appreciate this one fully.

Zion placed his knife down carefully. He wore formal black tonight, softened only by a silver-grey waistcoat beneath his jacket. His blonde hair had been pushed back from his face, exposing the expression of a man who had already heard this conversation enough times to recognize the opening attack.

"I am aware marriage exists."

"That was not what I said."

"I was hoping interpretation might save us time."

Ethan ignored him.

At the head of the table, Sirius continued eating with the distinct calm of a man who had decided this was his wife’s campaign.

"You are thirty," Ethan said. "You are Crown Prince. The council has become irritating."

"They were irritating before I turned thirty."

"They have become repetitive."

"That sounds like their problem."

Dean lowered his gaze to hide a smile.

Across the table, Sebastian noticed and gave him a warning look.

Dean ignored it.

Ethan turned toward Serathine.

"Find him someone."

Zion’s head snapped toward the woman he considered a second grandmother.

Serathine slowly placed down her wineglass.

For a moment, she merely looked at Ethan.

Then amusement appeared in her amber eyes.

"Oh?"

"No."

Zion’s response was immediate.

Serathine leaned back into her chair. "I have not said anything."

"You looked interested."

"I am."

"That is precisely the problem."

Lucas covered his mouth with his napkin.

Dean failed to do the same quickly enough.

Zion looked at both of them. "I hope you are enjoying yourselves."

"Very much," Dean admitted.

Arion’s hand settled briefly against Dean’s thigh beneath the table, either warning him or preventing him from becoming actively involved.

Serathine studied Zion with unnerving concentration.

"You would be difficult."

"That sounds promising," Sebastian said.

Zion turned toward him.

Sebastian calmly lifted his glass.

Serathine continued as though nobody had spoken. "You dislike being managed, you are suspicious of anyone overly interested in the crown, and you become bored when people agree with you too easily."

Ethan nodded.

"I know my son."

"You raised him."

"That does not mean I know what kind of person he would tolerate for fifty years."

Zion closed his eyes briefly.

Sirius finally intervened. "Perhaps we should ask whether he wants to marry before planning the next five decades."

Ethan looked at Zion.

Everyone else followed.

Zion took a slow drink of wine.

"I am not opposed to marriage."

"That is not enthusiasm," Lucas observed.

"I do not need enthusiasm. I need compatibility."

Dean tilted his head.

That sounded considerably more practical than the council probably wanted.

Zion continued, "I am not interested in marrying someone because their family owns useful territory or because a committee believes their bloodline photographs well beside mine. If I am expected to spend most of my life with someone, I would prefer to like them."

Serathine’s mouth curved.

"Sensible."

"And if I do not find anyone?"

"Then you remain unmarried," Sirius said.

Ethan looked at him.

Sirius met her gaze calmly. "I would prefer an unmarried heir to a miserable emperor."

The table quieted slightly.

Dean watched Zion’s shoulders ease.

That, more than anything, told him how often the subject had been raised recently.

Ethan exhaled and reached for his glass. "I am not trying to sell him."

"No," Serathine said. "You are trying to prevent the council from doing it first."

Ethan’s expression hardened just enough to confirm it.

Palatine’s nobles had apparently begun presenting candidates before Zion had even decided whether he wanted one.

Serathine understood immediately.

"Send me the names they have proposed."

Zion looked horrified. "Why?"

"So I can eliminate the unsuitable ones."

"You are agreeing with her?"

"No. I am ensuring nobody else chooses for you."

That stopped him.

Serathine folded her hands loosely over the table. "If you marry, it should be because you found someone worth rearranging your life for. Until then, I can occupy the council by destroying their suggestions."

Dean looked at Lucas.

Lucas looked delighted.

"That sounds like entertainment for you," he said.

"It does."

Ethan relaxed slightly. "Then help me."

Serathine smiled.

It was a beautiful smile.

Dean suspected several noble families were about to experience difficult months.

Zion apparently reached the same conclusion.

"What exactly are you planning to do?"

"Nothing dramatic."

Nobody at the table believed her.

Trevor finally looked up from the conversation he had been having with Sirius.

"That answer has historically preceded something dramatic."

Serathine gave him an approving glance. "You remember."

"I survived."

Sebastian’s mouth twitched.

Dean leaned back into his chair, more comfortable now that the evening’s reproductive attention had moved safely elsewhere.

Arion noticed.

"You look relieved," he murmured.

"I support family discussions."

"You support them when they concern Zion."

"Especially then."

Zion heard him.

"Your turn will come again."

Dean smiled serenely and reached for his dessert spoon.

"I am already married."

"That has not stopped anyone."

Unfortunately, that was true.

Dean chose not to acknowledge it.

Across the table, Serathine had already asked Ethan which council families had been most persistent and if Mia would be available after returning from Saha.

Zion watched them with the resigned expression of a man realizing that refusing to participate had somehow resulted in something far more dangerous than participating.

Dean decided dinner in Palatine had been an excellent idea.

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