This chapter specifically=nice but this fic as a whole=headache. I've been stuck on Chapter 11 for more than a week and that is just not like me. However, the more I struggle with TRNT, the more I write for the one shot collection, so it's not a total loss. Also I now have a 4500 word outline for my next fic AFTER TRNT so that's something to look forward to.

"I should go, probably."

Kile's voice was low, almost directly in my ear. I felt it as much as I heard it, and I shifted to face him. "Why? Can't you stay?"

It was probably the most vulnerable thing I'd ever said, but it was no big deal compared to everything else we'd done that night.

He yawned. "If I fall asleep here, your maid will catch us in the morning."

So practical, always looking out for my best interests. How had I ever let him go? "Eloise won't be here tomorrow," I confessed. "I told her not to. Just in case."

Kile gaped. "So you planned this? Us? Tonight?"

"How spontaneous do you think I am?" I demanded. At least, in the dark, he wouldn't to see my blush. "Of course I planned this! Not in, like, graphic detail, but I knew what I wanted."

I hadn't known what to expect, but I definitely knew what I wanted. And Kile had delivered.

"I feel manipulated."

"Didn't hear you complaining when we were in the throes of passion, but okay."

It was impressive, actually, how quickly we could go from hot and heavy to teasing each other. Perhaps Kile was just something I needed to get out of my system (technically, by getting him into my system) and from this day forward, we could be regular friends again.

Somehow, I didn't think so. Even now, half asleep and joking around, something hummed between us. Friends still wasn't the right word, but I appreciated how comfortable I felt with him, tangled up in bed.

He yawned again. "If it means so much to you, Your Majesty, I'll stay."

"It does. Stay."

Looking back, even I couldn't be sure if I was asking him to stay with me forever or just for the night. I was so tired, eyes already halfway closed, that at the time, it hardly seemed to matter.

§

The creaking of the door woke me. I blinked sleepily, taking note of the sunlight pushing through the curtains, Kile holding me tightly to his chest. It had to be late, but I could have fallen back asleep easily; I probably would have if Osten hadn't been tiptoeing in with a pair of cymbals.

Fuck.

There was no chance of me hiding the evidence. "The evidence" was currently spooning me and sleeping like a rock; there was also the majority of last night's clothes strewn haphazardly on the floor to contend with. Osten was not young or innocent enough to believe any excuse I might come up with.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, hoping Kile would continue to sleep right through this. He could not be trusted in a crisis. "Have you heard of knocking? Get out of my room!"

Osten was unfazed. "I did knock; you didn't answer. We were waiting for you to have breakfast, and Dad said I could wake you, by whatever means necessary."

At least that explained the cymbals. I supposed I should have been grateful he hadn't used them yet, that the rise and fall of Kile's chest was as steady as it had ever been. "Well, I'm awake now. You can go. Please."

Once again, unfazed. Osten craned his neck. "Hmm, is that Kile?"

"None of your business."

He looked down, inspecting the strewn mess of clothing. "Whose socks are those?"

Heat crept into my cheeks; I repeated my earlier sentiment in an icier tone.

Osten shrugged. "I know it's Kile, but don't worry, Eady, I won't tell anyone."

"Really?" The Osten I knew would already be working on a list of demands I had to adhere to. Was he actually…growing up?

"Really. But Josie's about to wake Kile up with the trumpet, so think they'll all find out anyway."

So much for growing up. Osten clanged his cymbals once, dramatically, and left. At that, Kile started to stir. I felt him stretch head to toe; his arm around me contracted. I couldn't imagine waking that peacefully to a brass instrument, but Kile and I were clearly cut from different cloth. Still half-asleep, he started kissing me, first on the cheek and working towards my mouth.

"None of that," I said sternly, rolling over. "We overslept. Osten was just in here; Josie's probably checking your room now."

Kile yawned. The first-thing-in-the-morning bedhead plus the lack of a shirt was actually a great look for him, but I sure wasn't giving into that right now. "Well, that's not good."

"Not good? Kile! This is much worse than that!" I exclaimed, burying my face in my hands.

"What, are you ashamed of me?" he asked almost teasingly, laughing. I didn't get it. I was embarrassed enough to fake my own death, and he was just giggling about it?

"I'm not ashamed of you. Well, not you, specifically. Being caught in bed by my little brother was just not on my bucket list." Even if he claimed he wouldn't tell anyone, Osten was the worst possible person to find out about this. Obviously he could not be trusted.

"He didn't see anything. He just saw us sleeping; there's nothing wrong with that," Kile reasoned, although we were absolutely not "just sleeping" the night before, and I suspected Osten had guessed that.

"He knows. Everybody's going to know!" I lamented. Nobody was supposed to find out about our little relapse. If I couldn't explain it to myself, how could I explain it to everyone in our immediate family? No, this was meant to be ours, secret and undefined.

"They don't actually know anything yet. Although…" Kile mused. "I should probably get out of here."

Stay was on the tip of my tongue again. Word was already going to get out. Why not enjoy each other's company a bit longer, do what we did best?

Kile was already getting out of bed, fumbling around for his shirt. "I'll go first, take the brunt of it. I'll tell them whatever you want me to."

I pulled the covers up over my head, an attempt to shut out the world and prevent myself from staring at Kile as he dressed. "Tell them I'm dead."

"Hmm. I think I'll try we were just talking. Don't be long, Eady. And hold your head high."

He left too. I let out a deep sigh and tossed my blankets back. There was a good chance he was right about…well, everything, I guess. We hadn't done anything wrong, and we didn't have anything to be ashamed of. Even if it was wrong and we did have something to be ashamed of, I would still want to do it again. I just didn't want anybody to know, because hooking up with my ex over Christmas break didn't really fit the perfect image of a queen I'd crafted for myself.

Additionally, Miss Marlee was going to flip out and get the completely wrong idea from this, and one of us would have to tell her this wasn't going anywhere. I didn't really want to explain "friends with benefits" to Kile's mom.

Faking my death was still tempting, but I decided to take Kile's advice and hold my head high. I was the queen; I was above gossip. It was just unfortunate that this particular piece of gossip was completely true and currently holding the key to the daunting vault of baggage my mind had become.

Don't think about it had served me well so far, but it was going to be really hard not to think about it if everybody else was talking about it.

§

I was genuinely hungry, so I didn't dawdle quite as much on my way downstairs as I might have liked to. When I pushed the door open, I was braced for impact, but little came of it. Kile, wonder that he was, was doing a fantastic job of commanding everyone's attention. He had Marie on his lap and appeared to be trying to get Marie to say the names of famous architects. Marie was doing her best, but so far her vocabulary was limited to single-syllable words that ended with "uh".

Sadly, that adorable scene was not quite enough for my entrance to go entirely unnoticed. Miss Marlee perked up, presumably full of questions I didn't want to answer. Josie grinned suggestively and patted the empty seat next to her, an offer I would not be accepting. I had no interest in talking about the emerging rumors surrounding my sex life, especially with the sister of the guy involved.

Sweet, serene Camille appeared to be the least threatening person in the room, not counting the infant. Perhaps she was just trying to lull me into a false sense of security, because as soon as I sat down next to her, she turned on me. "So, I heard something very intriguing this morning."

My face felt hot. A waiter set a plate in front of me; I tried to focus on toast instead of implications. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

Camille saw right through that, grinning. "Yes, you do. You and a certain someone. What's going on with you two?"

I wondered if Kile had actually tried "we were just talking" and if it had worked. I doubted it, especially with the all-knowing Camille. Under her intense scrutiny, I almost felt I should just spill the whole story, starting with the night of Kaden and Josie's wedding and Alice. Fortunately, I appeared to possess some restraint, despite what the night before might have indicated. "It's nothing."

I didn't know exactly what it was, but I was aware it was a lot more than "nothing". It threatened to consume me, admittedly in a largely pleasant way. Everything until this morning had been great, as long as I didn't think about the future or the past or how I might have lived my life differently if given the chance.

Regardless of my impressive lying skills, Camille did not seem to believe me. Her eyes narrowed, analyzing my psyche as she nibbled on a blueberry muffin. "Nothing?" she asked "innocently".

I nodded earnestly.

"You and Kile are nothing," she clarified.

I nodded, not quite as sure this time.

"But he spent the night in your room," Camille reminded me. As if there was any chance I'd forgotten. The last twelve hours were not exactly easy to forget. "And you…"

She trailed off, letting me fill in the blanks. I scrunched up my nose but didn't see the point in lying on this particular front. "Yes. But that doesn't mean…anything."

She stared widely into my eyes, encouraging me to say more. Her charm would have worked on a lot of people, but I was stubborn. "Interesting," she said eventually, barely hiding a giggle. "Very, very interesting."

I fidgeted in my seat. Eventually, the charm did work on me, or at least drive me to madness. "Quit looking at me like that!" I burst out. "It. Is. Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

That one simple sentence forced me into the last thing I wanted to do: think about it. I'd left those thoughts, especially the ones that covered what Kile meant to me, in the dark corner of my mind for a reason.

I wouldn't have a good answer for that even if I was willing to be open and honest about my emotions, which I obviously wasn't. Kile and I…I definitely cared about him, and we were friends, so "nothing" was way off-base, but it was more than that, too.

It was leftover feelings from the Selection, floating to the surface. It was convenience plus loneliness plus a spark of attraction.

That didn't really feel like it did "the arrangement" justice, nor was it something I could say out loud to Camille at the breakfast table. Instead, without really meaning to, I snapped at her. "What does it matter? He's leaving in three days, no matter what!"

Perfect as always, Camille didn't flinch at my harsh tone. She responded gently and calmly, which actually made me feel even worse for snapping. "I didn't mean to pry. I was just thinking…"

"You thought wrong," I grumbled, turning away from her and hoping she'd get the hint. Treating this like some kind of love affair made it so much worse. I couldn't explain it—couldn't really explain anything, these days—but it was worse.