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Once the door closes behind Cross, Nightmare dismisses Ccino, and then tips his head backwards to look at his guard. Killer is clearly thinking about something, too focused on the middle distance to immediately notice his king staring at him.
"So, what's your endgame here?" Nightmare asks. Killer jumps, just as Nightmare knew he would. Then, with a frown, he hops over the back of the couch to sit beside his king.
A little improper, perhaps, but Nightmare was the one who made the rules.
"I don't trust him," Killer replies with a not-quite answer.
"So you've said several times since he's arrived."
"He's an outsider!"
"And yet, so were you when you stepped into the throne room before my mother so many years ago," Nightmare muses, tapping his fingers rhythmically. "Should we have cast you out for the crime of being an outsider?"
(Not that he would have. He had been enchanted the moment he'd seen Killer, despite his appearance. His mutated soul and festering sockets had marked him an outcast in the Sands, where beauty was so prized. The brand on his shoulder marking him as a convicted thief wasn't helping, either.)
(Nightmare was lucky that Nim was a soft-touch for him, and that Killer had easily devoted himself to his savior.)
"It's —" Killer growls, clearly frustrated. "It's different , Night! He's a prince! Even Horror was only a noble, and his Queen obviously hated him."
"And this isn't enough to prove Cross's King hates him?" From under his book on the table, Nightmare produces a note. Killer's sockets narrow as Nightmare unfolds it to show Dust's chicken scratch handwriting in cipher.
Killer takes a moment to scan it, and then says, "Nix wants us to send him back? For nothing ?"
Nightmare hums. "They are demanding him extradited, with the reward to be discussed… Frankly, I have no intention of doing so."
"And if they decide it's worth war?"
"Could you really see Nix waging war over a Graceling? Even a Graceling prince ?"
Killer's leg bounces as he thinks. Nightmare can see him making the connections in his head; Gracelings are treated poorly in Nix, and oftentimes seen as a curse rather than a blessing as in Arbre and its southern neighbors. King Gaster was already unpopular with the people of his country, and many were quietly waiting for Prince Papyrus to take the throne. To drag them into a war to recover a Graceling of all people would be ludicrous.
"Tactical disadvantage too," Killer points out grumpily, begrudgingly admitting his king is right. "Cross led plenty of those charges. He knows all their tricks."
"It's also likely that some of his comrades would be loyal to him, despite his being a Graceling, if they fought with him," Nightmare agrees. With a smirk, he says, "Look, if he turns out to be bad news, you can say 'I told you so'... however, this is a bet I have no intention of losing."
Killer snorts. "You wouldn't have taken it at all if you thought you'd lose, moonlight. But…" He leans forward and captures Nightmare's mouth in a kiss. Despite the brevity, Killer manages to put such passion into it that it leaves Nightmare a bit breathless. "A deal's a deal, my king."
"Of course," Nightmare says as his paramour stands and stretches. "And I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but do not speak of this to Cross."
"He'd probably turn himself in if we did," Killer says as he adjusts the hidden holsters on his person. Even after years, Nightmare has no idea how he doesn't stab himself with so many. "Like an idiot."
"Exactly. And then he and you would be a match in wits!"
"You love my wits," Killer shoots back.
"And I will love them even more when you return after your midday meeting," Nightmare says with finality.
Killer rolls his eyes, and blows him a kiss.