This was one of the tougher chapters to write! It was originally much longer, but I had to cut a couple scenes for Making Sense Reasons. I ended up liking it. ANYWAY, I am pleased to announced that I have FINISHED this fic, at least the first draft of it. I'm still going to post just once a week, so by the time I post the epilogue, I'll hopefully have a good portion of my NEXT Keadlyn fic ready to share! Apparently this is just my life now. The next one has 50 chapters as opposed to TRNT's 15.

Eloise, the lesser evil, woke us before dawn and smuggled Kile out of my room. I was still tired, but I couldn't fall back asleep without him. I could only toss and turn; my bed felt too big and too cold. I shook off that sensation as quickly as possible and decided it was a good thing to be up so early. I had a big party to throw in less than forty-eight hours, and I really hadn't given it much attention. I'd been…busy.

I sent Eloise for coffee and scanned the checklist Camille had made for the party. Even her handwriting was perfect. Did this woman have any flaws? I wondered if there was a socially acceptable way to ask Ahren if he was sure his wife was human. Nobody could be that perfect.

…right?

So far, I couldn't come up with a single thing that was wrong with Camille. She was definitely very good at party-planning. The majority of the items on her neat list already had equally neat check marks beside them. Ahren had selected the color scheme and decorations, pretending the entire time that he didn't actually care. Camille and Josie had teamed up to plan the menu—Camille's refined taste plus Josie's hodgepodge of pregnancy cravings resulted in some interesting combinations, but I wasn't worried about it. We were also going to have an interesting combination of guests.

I arranged for the Elite's rooms from the Selection to be freshened up. Aside from a few large banquets and balls we'd hosted, the second floor had largely sat empty for the last five years. It wouldn't really be filled unless Osten had a Selection, and that was a scary thought. My parents occasionally still teased me about how awful I'd been to my suitors when they first arrived, but I knew for certain Osten would be so much worse.

I hadn't kept in the closest contact with my former Elite, but I was still excited to see all of them again. These men had entirely changed the trajectory of my life. I assumed—correctly, as it turned out—that we would have no trouble picking up where we left off.

Except, this time I would not be dating all of them. Once was enough, thank you very much, and besides, I was under the impression that all the Elite were already in serious relationships—aside from Kile, who had recently ended one—and I was not about to mess that up.

I made a list of questions for Gavril to ask on the Report, not that he really needed my help. When I felt like I had it all under control, I went looking for Ahren, partially to grill him on the "is Camille perfect?" thing but also just because I wanted to spend time with him before he went back to France. The end date to our little vacation was creeping ever-closer, something I'd been trying not to think about but would soon be forced to confront.

Ahren was agreeable—one of his best traits, and one I unfortunately did not possess. I was much more difficult to get along with; we'd all known that for a long time. I did however, demonstrate agreeability when Ahren suggested playing chess and I didn't shoot him down immediately despite knowing he'd demolish me. My brother had little-to-no competitive drive compared to me, but he was eerily good at games of logic, or maybe just predicting my every move. It was one of those things that should have been equal, being twins, but all our lives, it had seemed that Ahren knew me better than I knew him.

Per tradition, I played as white so I could go first. Also per tradition, Ahren made a thousand-and-one jokes about the queen piece actually being called "the Eadlyn". I pretended to find it annoying, but really, I didn't mind. I got quiet when I concentrated—despite being "just a game", chess was something I took very seriously—but Ahren seemed determined to have a conversation. "I missed you at breakfast."

"I was busy. Party planning, queenly responsibilities, all that."

"I thought you had this week off?" he questioned.

"Technically, but the kingdom could need me at any moment. Queens can't actually have time off. You should know that; you're married to one," I reminded him.

He shrugged. "Camille is excellent at delegating. She does have time off."

Perfect, once again. Life was just not fair. I sighed, moving my knight forward and to the right. If I got lucky (I wouldn't) maybe I could snag his queen—I mean, his "Eadlyn". "This is a genuine question. How is Camille so good at everything?"

Ahren frowned. "She's not good at everything. Have you seen her play tennis?"

I had, and while Camille was definitely bad at tennis, she was such a good sport about it that I couldn't actually count it as a flaw. My quest continued.

"And for the time off thing, well, you and Camille are just different," Ahren went on. He said it urgently, like he'd had this in the back of his mind for ages, waiting for the chance to voice it out loud. "You're independent. Always have been. Camille likes having a team."

"I have a team," I protested. "My advisory board. And Mom and Dad. And Kaden and Josie and Osten."

Ahren hesitated. I knew that look; he was going to tell me something I needed to hear but wouldn't necessarily like. "Sure, Eady, but can you honestly say you trust any of those people as much as you trust yourself?"

"Of course not," I replied, affronted. "I don't trust anyone as much as I trust myself. Is that even possible?"

"Yes," he said plainly. "That's how much I trust Camille. You're in check, by the way."

I cursed under my breath and moved my king (aka "the Dad piece" even though our dad was no longer officially the king) out of harm's way. Ahren was way too good at this. "I don't want you to think I'm this crazy workaholic just because I like to handle the important things myself. I do delegate, and I do take breaks. I was busy this morning, but this week is mostly rest for me."

"Speaking of which," said Ahren. "What's going on with you and Kile?"

I wasn't sure if that was an attempt to distract me from the chess game or genuine brotherly curiosity. Either way, I winced, my chest tightening at the undesirable subject being brought to the light. How many more times could I say "nothing" or "I don't know"? How many more times could I mean it?

When I didn't respond right away, Ahren prodded me—he really had a gift for that. "And don't say nothing. I know the two of you have been spending time together."

If by "spending time together" he meant "devouring each other physically but deliberately avoiding all emotional connection" then sure, we were spending time together. It was still not something I really wanted to talk about with my brother, though. Or anyone, if that was an option.

"It's not nothing," I admitted eventually. That was truer than most of the things I'd been willing to admit about Kile thus far. "But it should be. It's not going to last. It's just convenient. For now."

Ahren tilted his head. "What are you talking about?"

"You asked."

"Why should it be nothing?"

I thought I'd already explained that already. "Nothing's all it can be. He's going to leave."

"Eady." Ahren sounded stunned even though I was pretty sure I was still making sense. "Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like-"

"Like Mom looks at strawberry tarts. I know. But that's because—Ahren, I don't want to talk about this with you."

He forged on anyway. "And the way you look at him?"

I wanted to talk about that even less, I scoffed, trying to brush it off. "How, exactly, do I look at him?"

"Like you're in love with him."

The air, suddenly and violently, was ripped from my lungs. My temper flared—the wrong reaction, perhaps, but the easier one. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "Are you crazy? I'm not in love with him! I'm not—we're not-"

My heart pounded rapidly in my chest. Ahren looked like he wanted to study me in a lab; that felt like an accusation in itself, but I could not and absolutely would not answer for what he thought I'd done.

Ahren knew me so well, knew when to push and when to leave it lie. He softened, allowing me to soften too, and moved on. "Sorry. I'll leave it alone." He paused, and then directly contradicted his statement by looking at me with intense scrutiny. "You two are…being safe, right?"

I hadn't realized, until that moment, that there was something I wanted to talk about less than the way I apparently looked at Kile. "Oh my god. Stop, now. I do to want to hear any of that from you."

"I have a child, Eadlyn. I think I'm qualified to give the talk."

"I'm not saying you're unqualified! I'm saying you're my brother!"

"We're adults; I think we can talk about this."

"I think we absolutely cannot. If it means so much to you, and if it would prevent future discussions of this nature, then yes, I'll have you know we are being very safe. Now please, for the love of God, mind your own business."

Ahren nodded and fortunately had little else to say on the matter. "Okay, good. Checkmate, by the way."

I looked down at the board. First shell-shocked and then scandalized, I hadn't realized I let it get this bad. "Oh."

"Best of three?" Ahren suggested, but I shook my head. Just because he wasn't going to make me talk about it didn't mean I'd be able to stop thinking about it. Suddenly I felt a headache coming on, and all I wanted was to be alone.