For a moment, the flames behind Nero shifted in the wind, making him look younger and worse at the same time. Eighteen, with white-blond hair streaked with soot, blood drying at his sleeve, and a mouth curved like he could make cruelty decorative if he tilted his head correctly.
Then the smile thinned.
"I do not need someone to shield Sebastian from me," Nero said.
"No?"
"No." Nero's voice stayed light. "Sebastian is very good at shielding himself from anything that might require honesty."
Hale's expression did not change.
Nero's mouth curved wider, but there was nothing cheerful in it now. "There. See? I can be accurate too."
"You can be cruel."
"So can he."
"Yes."
That stopped Nero for half a breath.
The young prince looked away first, toward the relay route hidden beyond smoke and dead brush. North sat somewhere past it, behind distance, command structure, and one promise Nero had turned into a blade.
"I will not force him," Nero said.
Hale barked a laugh.
"Hah!"
