Albert stared at what had been his home. At least he been allowed to claim a few things from it before being ushered out, but nothing of worthwhile value. He had the clothes on his back and what he'd bundled up into a sheet. And-

His father had fled leaving only a scant note, and then the men had arrived explaining his father's many debts and crimes. He had nothing. He had not even managed a single memento of his departed mother, gone nearly a dozen years.

But he would not cry. He was a man and he would survive. Surely, some friend or other might let him stay in a guest suite for a bit of time. If they would even admit to knowing him.

He did not hear the carriage approaching and was nearly startled when suddenly there were hoof-beats behind him.

"Albert."

Albert turned away from what had been his home-

-and to the waiting smile of the Count of Monte Cristo.

-

"Call me Edmond, please," the Count said once Albert had settled into the coach. He was still clutching his bed-sheet of possessions as if they might somehow vanish, though he winced and relaxed his grip a bit once the Count had glanced down at Albert's situation.

"If you insist, your- Edmond," Albert replied. He liked the sound of the name. "Thank you for... For your charity."

It hurt to have to say it, but Albert knew it true.

"We are friends, are we not?" the Count - no, Edmond - said warmly. "Besides, I would not allow Mercédès's son to starve on the street, not that I do not believe you would be more resourceful than that."

"Then I thank you for your friendship." Albert relaxed a bit further. The Count had known his parents, apparently, though certainly his father had never mentioned him and had seemed a little bewildered by his presence. But his father had also spent too much time gambling and too much time with mistresses; Albert had been raised more by his governess, tutors, and the servants than his father.

Perhaps if it had not been for the carriage accident that had claimed his mother's life-

But that was not a line of thought Albert wished to dwell on.

"Once you have chosen a suite, we will see to anything else you might need," Edmond said after a long moment. "Already your home was being emptied of anything of value, I believe, but if there is anything I should watch for through dealers or auction or any more questionable means, let me know immediately."

Albert opened his mouth but found himself lost for words. Truly, he had not forgotten how wealthy the Count was, nor how well-connected. An offer like that probably fell from his mouth with no more difficulty than day following night.

But it was for him, and there was that strange warmth behind it.

Albert could not imagine his father making an offer like that to anyone. Instead, they would just be dismissed and shooed away like an unfortunate inconvenience like he often was.

"If I think of anything, I will let you know."

He was sure there would be something that would come to him. Something of his mother's? But her dresses were long gone, her brushes and jewels had vanished without Albert immediately noting their absence and that had been some time ago.

Truly, Albert felt an anger at his father that was different than the trifling little frustrations of the past. This was different than being brushed aside.

"Also once you are settled, you can let me know about your education and your interests, more than what we spoke of in Rome."

Albert nodded. Yes, of course. He now had no more than a commoner, financially, and while surely, the Count could more than support him for life in the most extravagant manner, that was not what he should aspire to.

In Rome their conversations had been as strangers, about the city and the food and the celebration. And then Albert had needed to return to his friends, all of whom had also had exciting nights but in very different ways.

-

It had not taken Albert long to settle in to the suite he'd chosen, though truthfully he'd taken the first he was shown by one of the Count's servants. There were three rooms, far larger than what he'd had, all furnished but lacking any feel of having been lived in. But the Count - ah, Edmond - Edmond had said he'd been traveling for some time previously.

He had dumped the contents of his bed-sheet onto his bed and then stared. He had thought he'd grabbed more, but it was at least enough to wear the next day. He'd managed a silver candlestick from his room as well but the more he looked at it, the less Albert thought it would actually be worth much of anything. It was one of a pair, but the other had eluded him somehow. Perhaps it had already been gone off into the apron-pocket of a maid.

It could stay, Albert decided, on the bedside table beside a more suitable lantern. The bed was wide and piled with fine blankets and pillows in rich reds and oranges. He folded up his sheet as best as he could figure and set it on a dark wood chair.

And then Albert stood there, thinking about everything. Edmond's words the other evening, about what one did when faced with these kinds of situations… There was no way either of them could have known, of course, but there was now more weight to those words than ever.

He would accept Edmond's support, and he would repay it however he could.

He would-

There was a knock at the suite door.

"Albert?"

"Yes, I am here."

Quickly, he crossed through the suite's sitting room to open the door, surprised to see not just Edmond but an entire parade waiting behind him.

"As I said, once you had chosen a suite it would be time for us to see to what you immediately need," Edmond said as he stepped inside.

Albert blinked as in marched servants with trays and boxes and baskets. An assortment of small treats was placed on one table and Albert was suddenly reminded that he'd missed a meal. But once the servants deposited what they'd brought, they filed back out leaving only two other men.

"Have you been growing quickly, Albert?" Edmond questioned. "You'll need a full wardrobe, or at least enough for the next seasons."

The men had their cases open, revealing them as tailors. That was surprisingly fast. But, perhaps, for a man with Edmond's wealth, they worked only for him.

Albert was not expecting Edmond to sit at the table and reach for one of the small treats, a bit of candied fruit, and then pop it into his mouth. He licked his lips and Albert forgot everything else.

"We'll need to measure you, sir."

"Right, yes..."

Edmond did not move, instead staring straight at him. Albert took his waistcoat off first, and out came measuring tapes and everything else. For a moment, Albert was distracted, listening to how he should hold his arms and bend, breathe in and out-

But even as he was stripped down further, Edmond's gaze did not waver. Even near-bare-

Finally, Albert was handed a dressing robe that one of the servants must have brought in. It was quite large on him and as he pulled it closed, he wondered if it belonged to Edmond.

"Sit, eat."

The tailors excused themselves, though their bags and tools remained behind.

"Soon you will be asked to choose colors and fabrics," Edmond explained as Albert sat. "It is all my gift to you, Albert, for what may become your rebirth."

Yes, that was a way to think about it.

Albert reached, finally, for a small pastry.

He was fairly sure it was the most delicious thing he'd ever eaten.

-

It was Edmond who ended up choosing most of what would become his new wardrobe. There was far too much, too many choices, and even after a moment's rest and a full stomach, Albert felt utterly overwhelmed. Was this how it went every time Edmond desired new attire?

His normal fittings had not taken nearly as long nor involved any similar degree of choice. But his father had not been the Count of Monte Cristo, either.

Only when Edmond's assistant, Jacopo, slipped in to whisper something in his ear did Edmond excuse himself from the proceedings. But at that point it was growing late in the afternoon and the only remaining debates were over embroidery and trim.

Redressed, and alone, Albert wandered the suite again, marveling at what had been added. He had the robe now, attire for sleeping, an entire shelf of books that actually looked interesting and not just educational, and more. His own things had not been taken away, though clearly someone had found his poorly-folded sheet and made it into a dreadfully crisp rectangle.

Albert ran a hand over it.

He had no idea how to feel.

-

Dinner was served to Albert in his suite, with apologies.

"But I had hoped to see the Count," Albert said far too quickly when the message and food arrived. He truly had. He wanted to listen to whatever Edmond had to say and to try to understand that gaze that seemed to be searching for something inside him.

His mother, perhaps?

As Albert quietly settled to eat, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. But he vowed, again, to graciously accept this support and repay it as soon as he could.

-

Albert was certainly not a prisoner in his suite. He had been invited to explore the estate however he liked, with only a few areas barred to him. It was Jacopo reciting the list, and while Albert certainly had no intentions of disturbing the maids, he did suppose the warning needed to be issued.

Morning had arrived without fanfare. Albert barely remembered crawling into bed, but he woke clutching a book whose cover he had not cracked, with tearstains on his cheeks from tears he didn't remember spilling.

There was a fresh outfit waiting for him, and an invitation to bathe as well. Clean, fed, and dressed, that was when Jacopo had arrived, just about when Albert had started to wonder what he might do with himself.

-

"Are you enjoying the grounds, Albert?"

Despite having been startled by and already startling a handful of gardeners while exploring the estate's gardens, Albert was still quite startled by the Count's appearance.

"I am!" he managed after a moment. "Everything is exquisite, both outside and in. I have wanted for nothing, as well."

"Excellent." There was that hand on his shoulder again and even through his layers, Albert was sure he could feel its warmth. He nearly shivered despite the sunshine, a little unsure exactly why the Count - why Edmond - made him feel so happy with just a touch.

He wanted Edmond to leave his hand there, reassuring him, perhaps- And he did for just a moment, as they both gazed at the morning blooms.

"I have seen to some other paperwork," Edmond said gently. "To assist you, just a little bit, you are now my ward and bear no responsibility for your father's debts or crimes. Liquidating everything he had remaining will cover most of what is owed, but it will take time. Until then..."

Albert felt a bit like the wind had been knocked out of him. They had known each other for such a short time and yet Edmond had done so much. This was saving his life again and he assumed Edmond knew as much. Even if it was a favor to the parents he'd once had, it was more than any man could ask and nearly more than Albert thought he should accept.

"Thank you," Albert whispered, as Edmond's hand slipped from his shoulder. "I do not quite understand your kindness, but I am grateful and will do whatever I can to-"

"Enough of that," Edmond said quickly, smiling the same oddly warm smile that Edmond always gave him. "This is no passing whim. I think you have promise, Albert, and I think you'll avoid your father's mistakes."

"Yes, Count."

He would!

"Now, would you like to join me for a meal and perhaps a discussion of your education?"

Albert nodded, smiling. Of course he would. Surely he'd be able to please Edmond. That was truly what he wanted to do.

-

More books had appeared on the shelves in his suite, Albert noticed when he retired for the evening. Quite a few appeared to be dry and educational, in subjects both of interest to him and where he was admittedly lacking. Either Edmond had quickly sent a man in to the city to purchase them or the estate had an impressive library that he just had not discovered yet.

It did not matter. Edmond had clearly picked every one himself, or at least every subject. It was all for him and Albert felt a burning in his soul that surprised him. But his father had certainly not ever shown this much interest. Yes, he'd been given things, allowed to go to Rome even, but it was all done with a detachment and sense that it was just to make the annoyance and obligation of family go away.

Albert ran his fingers over the spines and the golden titles and debated which to take to bed with him. The book he had chosen the night before had been placed on the table beside his bed, beside his candlestick. It had been given a long white candle, some time during the day, but it had not been lit.

His bedsheet was tucked into an armoire.

And his ring with the Mondego crest was still on his finger, but it felt strangely heavy. Edmond had not asked him to surrender it, and Albert did not think himself quite ready to anyway. But perhaps soon he could tuck it into a drawer.

Soon.

Albert blinked as he read the title of the next book on the shelf. He'd noticed a few risque selections before, but this time he chose one. Surely, it was not a test of any type. He was a young man, rather inexperienced, and Edmond seemed to prize knowledge. Perhaps he'd learn something.

Book in hand, Albert made his way to his bed.

It was quite erotic, moreso than Albert had expected, and he had a vivid imagination, though there were sketches interspersed as well. He'd certainly seen similar before, and read similar by nicking from his father's shelves, but there was something about this that seemed more arousing.

Before long he'd set the book aside and rummaged through his new possessions to find a jar of lotion that would offer him a bit of extra slickness so he could take care of his pressing need.

When he closed his eyes and took his cock in his hand, he found himself only thinking of Edmond, despite attempting otherwise.

And the next night as well.

-

Weeks passed, during which Albert was spoiled beyond his wildest imagination. New pieces flowed into his wardrobe, along with accessories and toiletries. He was given an allowance that startled him and was unsure what to do with it. He already had what he needed and even being given a coach and coachmen of his own did little to help. Albert had no interest in his father's gambling, certainly.

Edmond had even given him a sword, far finer than what he'd had. They'd sparred once, at dawn, and Albert had been both impressed and distracted. But mostly, they talked and rarely about themselves. But Edmond always had that smile for him and Albert drank it in, eagerly.

-

"Albert, I will be out this evening."

Breakfast had just been served and Albert had been momentarily preoccupied by choice.

"Oh?"

But of course, the Count of Monte Cristo would still have his social engagements. Albert knew that. Alliances, or common interests, were important. If Edmond was going out, it was for a good reason. He did not seem the type to socialize on a whim, which was mildly curious.

Edmond described the function and reason and Albert nodded along.

"When you are ready, we will reintroduce you to society as my ward," Edmond continued. "You're nearly at an age where you'll be expected at every party and ball, and I daresay you'll enjoy them more than I."

Albert nodded. He was not quite ready for that and he knew it. All eyes would be on him, and every mouth would be whispering behind fans and gloved hands. It was too soon.

"We shall not wait up for each other."

Again, Albert nodded. He had been debating an evening excursion into a certain part of the city. It was something he'd never done before, but he'd heard about it from his friends.

Perhaps it might ease the throbbing ache that grew stronger each time Edmond smiled at him and exploded every night after he'd crawled in to bed.

"We shall not wait up for each other," Albert echoed. He met Edmond's smile with his own.

And he truly tried to mean it.

-

To his credit, Albert went out with full intention. He left word he'd be out quite late, possibly until morning, and but when it came time to give his coachmen direction, Albert hesitated.

He was not interested in what he could easily buy. It would not be Edmond, and that was the thought and realization that echoed inside of him for long enough that he was asked if he was well.

Instead, Albert gave directions to a friend's residence, because at least it would be out and some other socializing or adventure in the cool night's air would surely clear his head. Surely-

And his friend had at least been in but seemed only interested in petty gossip and before long, Albert excused himself.

He thought again, about what companionship could be bought for the night. His coin would outweigh his age, if he was even questioned.

Albert had one word when asked his destination-

"Home."

-

Quietly, Albert made his way to his suite, thinking about the evening and what he might say if questioned about his early return.

If Edmond asked... But Edmond had given him the allowance, the free rein, and the coachmen and coach! He had certainly intended to be responsible in every way and discreet as possible.

But-

But Edmond.

Every time during the evening that Albert had tried to convince himself he desired companionship, he was instead reminded he desired Edmond.

It was not just in admiration or indebtedness or anything else so innocent and Albert knew that. He did not want to be like Edmond. No, it was far more than that.

He stood, quiet, just before his suite door, his eyes closed.

His only desire was Edmond.

Yes, that was it entirely. Albert just wanted to belong to Edmond, who was the best friend he'd ever had and a better father than he could ever have imagined. His assistance had been life-saving twice now and-

And he wanted Edmond's smile only for himself. He wanted Edmond's hands on him, warm.

He wanted-

He wanted.

"Albert? I was informed that you'd gone out for the evening."

Edmond's voice shattered the silence and for the briefest moment, Albert wondered if he'd somehow conjured up Edmond's voice in his mind. He turned, suddenly more surprised that Edmond was dressed far more casually than he'd ever seen and less that he'd also returned relatively early from what should have been a lengthy engagement.

"I had intended to," Albert admitted, glancing away and down towards the floor. "But I... I was wrong about my intentions, and about my desires."

That was truthful enough, and during the pause that followed, Albert was sure his heart would thunder out of his chest.

Then Edmond's hand brushed along Albert's cheek and to his chin, raising his gaze to meet a different version of Edmond's smile.

His thumb stroked up over Albert's lips and Albert feared his legs would give out.

Sure this was a jest, a game, and Edmond would-

"Tell me. Albert, what do you desire? Tell me why, when the delights of the city are open to you, a healthy young man of an adventurous age, you return quietly to this place and my company."

Albert said nothing. It was obvious that Edmond knew the answer already and Albert wondered why he'd been trying to hide it.

Edmond's thumb was still on his lips, strangely rough.

"Tell me," he said again. "Tell me, Albert. What do you desire?"

His voice barely a whisper, Albert told the truth.

"You," he said, before realizing that the single word was also a kiss to Edmond's thumb.

Before he could reach to pull the rest of Edmond's hand to his mouth to prove his claim, Edmond leaned close.

"This is no longer a conversation for the hallway, Albert. Open the door and we will continue."

Edmond drew his hand away and Albert tried to remember how to breathe. The suite door's latch seemed far more complicated than he remembered, but somehow he got it open and Edmond followed him inside.

This was certainly the latest that Edmond had ever called on him, and certainly in a far more casual manner, but Albert had seen no servants lurking and besides, everyone already knew the Count of Monte Cristo was an eccentric of sorts.

Edmond was the one who closed the door and then locked it. Albert knew that others had keys and that the lock was largely symbolic, but he also knew they'd have their privacy.

"Edmond."

Only a few candles were lit, burning in glass lanterns, likely in case he arrived home before dawn.

It was just enough light to realize that Edmond's smile was hungry.

"I had not intended this," Edmond said quickly before he pulled Albert to him. It nearly felt like the words weren't for Albert, but for himself somehow.

But before Albert could question any further, Edmond's mouth was on his. Albert grabbed at the sleeves of Edmond's shirt, not entirely sure what else to do as Edmond's tongue pressed his lips apart.

This was far from his first kiss, but it was certainly his first kiss like this. Edmond kissed him deep and hard, his tongue hot. Somehow, Albert was sure he was feeling the kiss through every part of his body and while he was still thinking, he was quite sure those novels had not described it anywhere near adequately.

He was also a little surprised that Edmond's beard, nearly regrown, was not more prickly. Albert had never asked about that, but he'd wondered. Perhaps some time when he was not moaning against Edmond and pressing closer, marveling at Edmond's mouth and how Edmond had a hand in his hair.

Finally Edmond drew back, but not entirely.

"Are you a virgin, Albert?"

"Yes," Albert said once he could remember the word. Edmond had kissed him, and was still looking at him with that hungry smile. This would not be a time to lie or even nudge the truth a bit. Any dishonesty would be as immediately obvious as his arousal.

"But I've read-" Albert shook his head, quite aware of how very silly that sounded once outside of his head. Words had not properly described how it would feel to have Edmond kiss him, after all.

"Albert, books are an invaluable reference, but some things must be learned by doing," Edmond said. "You cannot learn the sword through a book."

"I know."

"It is late, Albert."

"I know."

"Your bed is in the next room."

This was his chance to refuse and Albert knew it. But he did not want that. He wanted Edmond, his best friend and new father and benevolent host and object of overwhelming and confusing desire. He wanted and it did not seem that Edmond was merely indulging him.

"Yes, it is."

Edmond's hand trailed down from his shoulder to his hand, taking it firmly and leading Albert through the rest of the sitting area and to the similarly dimly lit bedchamber.

It was enough light for another kiss and another dozen, as Edmond guided him down onto the bed.

"Albert..."

He had not even had a chance to remove his boots but already, Edmond had a hand on him, rubbing against the length of his cock as Edmond kissed him again.

Albert cried out into Edmond's mouth and moved against him, eager for more. It felt nothing like when he'd closed his eyes and thought about what it might be like if his hands were not his own. He tried to kiss Edmond back, forgetting everything in pleasure. He still didn't quite know what to do with his own hands. One grabbed at the blankets beside him, the other found Edmond's shirt again.

Edmond kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his breath warm on Albert's skin. It felt far too good, as if somehow each kiss was magnifying the hand still stroking him.

"More, Albert?"

"Please." The word came out far rougher than intended. And then Edmond paused to undo Albert's pants and slip his hand down inside and Albert was pretty sure he forgot how to speak entirely.

It felt nothing like when he touched himself. He'd closed his eyes but he saw Edmond's smile anyway, burned into him. He pressed up against Edmond's hand before realizing it wasn't the best idea. Edmond's mouth was on his again, his hand stroking firmly, roughly, fast, and Albert was suddenly sure of one thing-

"Ah, Edmond, I-"

He felt it in his fingertips, his toes, in his tongue against Edmond's as Edmond kissed him again while giving him those last few stroke to send him over the edge into shivering white.

He heard Edmond chuckle a moment later and felt the air change and the weight on the bed shift. Edmond moved away and Albert opened his eyes. That had not been all, had it?

No, a moment later most of his release was wiped away and then Edmond started on more of his attire. Anything Albert thought to say sounded ridiculous in his mind. Once his fingers seemed to work, he simply helped undress himself, a task that seemed to take far too long but that was over in an instant.

Now he lay naked, with Edmond staring at him from where he stood at the foot of the bed.

Albert had tried for the buttons of his shirt but had failed, a combination of not quite knowing how to undo another's shirt and Edmond redirecting him.

But there was Edmond, smiling, and for just a moment, Albert was nervous. He wanted this more than anything but he did not quite know how to take it.

"Relax, Albert," Edmond said, and Albert thought he nodded.

Quickly, Edmond's gaze flicked to Albert's bedside table and where that jar of lotion sat beside the lonely candlestick.

"That will work," Albert heard Edmond say under his breath before climbing back onto the bed. It would, Albert supposed. Or they would make it work.

"Edmond?"

Edmond smiled and climbed back onto the bed and over Albert, looking down at him for a moment before descending for a kiss. This time, Albert got his shirt buttons undone, though Edmond did not shrug from the garment at all. Still, it was skin and Albert touched it enthusiastically. Edmond had unexpected muscle, far more than he'd expected for a noble. It was exquisite in every way and Albert marveled, between kisses that took all of his attention, that he could still be surprised by Edmond.

No, that wasn't right. He was still surprised by everything about Edmond. He was everything Albert had ever wanted and in so many different ways.

Edmond grabbed for that jar of lotion in a flash.

"It's a little different, between men," Edmond said, his voice low.

"I know," Albert replied. "I mean, I've heard. But I..."

He wasn't entirely sure what to say. Only that he wanted whatever Edmond did. Possibly he wanted it more. Edmond had already claimed him in nearly every other way, hadn't he?

Albert spread his legs when Edmond reached low and moaned at Edmond's touch. It was quite a different feeling as Edmond's fingers pressed against him, and then again with cool lotion.

But it was not bad, as Edmond pushed his fingers in, nor as he drew them out. Albert exhaled and looked to Edmond's smile. It was there, a mixture of hunger and something else that Albert didn't quite know, though he'd thought he'd seen it in Rome.

Edmond moved quickly, undoing and pulling off his own pants and underthings, leaving only his shirt hanging open. There was something oddly alluring about how he looked, like that, disheveled and missing some of the calm collectedness that he otherwise had.

Albert was very much reminded that Edmond was a man before anything else, one who was fantastically erect and far more appealing than any sketchy doodle in an erotic novel.

Without quite meaning to, Albert licked his lips. And that was quite enough.

Edmond was on him again, kissing him and pressing his legs apart again, shuffling oddly before Albert realized he had the lotion again, coating himself to ease their coupling.

Then he felt it, the tip of Edmond's cock against him.

Edmond looked like he was going to say something, but instead he just pushed himself in. Albert gasped, more surprised by the feeling than anything. He felt strangely full and like he might burst himself. He felt Edmond's cock in every part of his body a moment later, when Edmond moved just a bit.

"I'm okay," Albert whispered, and that was enough. The bed creaked under them as Edmond thrust and Albert tried to move to match. He couldn't believe the heat he felt, nor how it made his own cock hard. He closed his eyes, afraid that if he kept them open it'd be over too soon.

"Look at me, Albert," Edmond chided after a moment, as he thrust.

Albert did, biting at his lip to keep quiet when he saw Edmond's face and the form of his body. He could not see where Edmond was inside him, but he could feel each thrust in his very soul.

He reached for his own cock, hard now, and jerked at it to match Edmond's motion, but it felt nearly an afterthought compared to the feeling of Edmond having him.

At his birthday, Edmond had spoken of storms almost as if he'd planned it all somehow, as if Edmond himself was the storm.

But Albert had vowed then to face any storm head on, and he would now.

He watched Edmond, shadowed in candlelight, watched muscle and Edmond's smile shift to concentration and then something completely different. Edmond moved quickly and Albert realized, realized from the low groan in Edmond's chest that he was finishing deep inside.

Albert swore he felt Edmond's heat and he wanted it all. He kept stroking himself, yearning, even as Edmond stilled but didn't withdraw. His hand was knocked away and Edmond touched him again, which was enough for Albert. It was enough and he came almost from nowhere, without the build-up he'd expected, just from Edmond's hand touching. He cried out and shook against Edmond, sure that the room was somehow filled with fireworks.

When he'd caught his breath, Edmond was beside him, wiping him clean with some cloth or other.

"I am yours," Albert managed. He wanted to reach but he felt a bit like his bones had been lost to him.

Edmond chuckled and smiled an interesting smile, one brimming with satisfaction. Albert hoped he'd done well; he hoped Edmond would come to him again, or perhaps he could even slip away to Edmond's chambers...

"Albert..."

A kiss, one that Albert thought was quite tame. He reached to tangle his fingers in Edmond's hair, trying to keep him close.

"For a bit longer," Edmond said, kissing him again.

Edmond drew blankets over them both, though Albert hadn't quite realized he was cold. Edmond was impossibly warm, and there, kissing him slowly and thoroughly.

Though Albert thought it might be nice to close his eyes, just for a moment, to-

-

He woke to the mid-morning sun and the sound of footsteps in his bedchamber.

"Milord, when you are ready, His Grace would like you to dine with him."

It was Jacopo, and Albert flailed around. He'd- Oh, but Edmond had not stayed the night?

"He also wished me to give you this," Jacopo continued as he set a box down on the bed.

"Thank you," Albert managed. "I'll be ready shortly."

He would not make Edmond wait.

But he did not move to open the box until Jacopo had closed the outer suite door.

And inside that was a ring with what Albert knew to be the crest of the Count of Monte Cristo.

The Mondego ring was still on his finger and after a moment, he tugged it off and stared at it. He would not discard it, but he certainly would not wear it proudly again any time soon. No, he would proudly be the Count's ward, and learn from him in every way offered. He'd been given an extraordinary chance and would drink every drop of it.

After a moment, he stretched and half-rolled across the bed to put the ring beside the silver candlestick-

"What?"

He had grabbed it, that day without thinking, and grabbed only it and not known what had happened to its mate. But now there were two, one with a familiar never-lit taper and one without.

"Edmond," Albert whispered, setting the ring beside them and then touching them both. He'd not said a word about them, but of course Edmond would have heard about everything he'd arrived with.

Albert swallowed hard but then shook his head and smiled. He had been claimed absolutely.

He needed to get dressed.

Edmond was waiting for him.