Noel's head reeled for a second—his own voice echoing back at him in disbelief.
He had said 'yes'.
To 'that'.
Out loud.
In front of a corpse, a fainted princess, and a stranger who was currently clutching his shoulder like a lifeline.
He swallowed hard... with his throat dry and pulse roaring in his ears.
He quickly rephrased what he had said as his voice cracked on the first word.
"What?" he said, louder than he meant. "Yes? Did I say yes? I mean—" He cleared his throat, forcing his voice lower, steadier. "Yes? What do you mean by that, Lord Arthur? We're both... men."
Arthur didn't move.
His arm stayed firmly locked around Noel's waist... fingers splayed possessively across the small of his back. The navy tailcoat fabric bunched slightly under his grip. Arthur's steel-blue eyes never left Noel's face... watching every flicker of panic, every flush creeping up his neck.
