Baroness Colden adjusted the lace at her collar, inspecting herself in the mirror one last time. Her reflection, as always, reflected elegance—poised, powdered, perfect. But beneath the powdered calm was a quick, fluttering excitement. Her reclusive son had agreed to walk with her this morning. Eighteen and aloof, Sebastian rarely spared time for such motherly trifles. Despite being polite he would always make up excuses of his poor health to avoid engagement, but today seeing his unexpected enthusiasm for change the baroness grasped the opportunity to spend time with him.
She found him waiting by the garden gate, staring into the distance—remote as ever. He didn't seem to notice her approach. Without bothering to announce herself, she looped her arm through his. He flinched slightly at the contact, then seeing her, gave a small, belated smile. Without a word, they set off into the dappled green .
"My dear, did you hear Lady Merle's second daughter ran off with a music tutor? Imagine! A man with ink-stained fingers and no land. Oh, but you wouldn't care." She fluttered her hand. "Still, disgraceful. Poor Lady Merle all her children seem to only cause her troubles."
Sebastian hummed noncommittally, eyes tracing the peonies. She studied him sidelong. "Anyway, not everyone can be as blessed as us, with your eldest brother's marriage in a few months and your upcoming engagement, everything seems to be going so well."
His lips twitched. Not a smile, exactly, but close enough for her to carry on.
He finally spoke, voice low and unreadable. "What do you think of the Friervern Duchy?"
She gasped—more out of performative surprise than genuine shock—then gave him a sly, teasing glance. "Finally showing some interest in your future fiancée?"
With a pleased sigh, she went on, "She's perfect for you—an heiress with a proper dowry, polished manners, and everything to expect in a proper lady. If you like, I could invite her for tea sometime… after the engagement is properly arranged, of course."
Sebastian merely nodded as they continued walking. Their footsteps crunched over gravel paths as birds trilled above. At that moment, despite the silence the baroness felt the warmth of his company and held him tighter.
They turned a bend in the garden path and the clatter of swords broke the hush. Down on the lower lawns, the training grounds were alive with motion—young men sparring, a few older knights observing, and in the middle of it all, Orville Colden, shirt a little damp with sweat, grinning like the devil himself as he lunged at a knight.
The Baroness clicked her tongue, both amused and faintly exasperated. "That boy! Look at him, lunging like a stage actor."
Sebastian paused beside her, gaze flat but observing. "His technique is compelling "
"His dramatics certainly are," she said, then cupped a hand to her mouth. "Orville, love, do stop bullying the knight and join us for a civil walk!"
Orville saluted with his practice sword, muttered something to Jasper—likely a joke, judging by the man's smile—and jogged up the slope. "Mother," he greeted, giving a flourishing bow,"you summon me like a queen, and here I arrive—sweaty, radiant, and deeply underdressed."
"Oh hush," she said, swatting at him with her fan, though her smile lingered. "You look charmingly shabby. Come walk with us."
And so he did, falling in on Sebastian's other side, not the least winded from his training. He cast a sideways glance at his brother and grinned, "Not in poor health today, brother?"
Sebastian didn't rise to the bait. Instead, smiling he replied,"Yes, the weather seems especially inviting today. Even my frail body couldn't resist."
"Oh, I see," Orville muttered, brow lifting, his grin fading just slightly—unsure whether he'd won that exchange or not.
They returned to the patio where the table had already been set by attentive servants. The Baroness fanned herself lightly, then glanced at Sebastian. "Darling, shall we have tea?"
"As you wish, mother" then as if remembering something he added,"There are pastries I brought this morning. The staff can serve them with the tea."
Orville dropped into his chair with an exaggerated gesture. "Ah, Sebastian providing for the household?"
Sebastian seated himself with careful posture, smoothing his sleeve before reaching for his cup. "Is that so remarkable? I assumed even you required food."
Orville gave a short laugh, already drawing breath to argue, but the Baroness cut in with practiced sharpness,"Orville, enough with your bickering."
Orville shrugged and reached for a tart. No one spoke but the baroness was smiling again. The tea arrived, delicate steam rising as porcelain clinked. . The Baroness basked in her sons' presence, sipping contentedly while the sun warmed the stone beneath their feet.
The scent of bergamot and warm pastry drifted between them as the tea cooled, the Baroness delicately tapping her spoon against the rim of her cup. For a moment, the world was calm.
Then, as ever, Orville broke it.
"You know," he began, leaning back with an innocent expression that was never sincere, "at the Denvell ball last week, Lady Enwell asked about you, Sebastian. Twice. A curious thing, since you weren't there."
The Baroness blinked. "Lady Enwell?"
"The Count's daughter. Pale, tall, rather alarmed-looking." Hesmirked. "But very determined. Wanted to know if you were still ill, and whether you played the cello."
"I don't," Sebastian said simply, lifting his teacup.
"She seemed convinced you did. I didn't correct her."
"You rarely do," Sebastian murmured.
The Baroness set her cup down with an audible clink. "Orville, really. Must you entertain every bored debutante with tales of your brother? She's not appropriate."
"She's titled," Orville said, grinning.
The Baroness drew herself up. "Sebastian is to be engaged to the Princess Rebecca."
A silence hung, briefly chilled by that name.
"Oh, but since you seem so interested in ladies and matchmaking, perhaps you should get engaged," she added sharply, her tone still sweet but laced with steel. "You're nearly sixteen and endlessly energetic. Don't you agree, Sebastian?"
Sebastian glanced at Orville, then back at his tea. "In terms of energy, certainly. In terms of suitability..." He let the sentence trail off with a faint, unreadable smile.
"Anyway, Orville," the Baroness said, her tone sharpening beneath a pleasant smile, "do remember that Sebastian is to be engaged to Princess Rebecca. It would be wise not to amuse other young ladies with idle gossip about your brother."
Sebastian, as ever, remained silent. He neither affirmed nor protested. His expression was calm, eyes distant, watching the sunlight catch in his tea. As though none of it concerned him.
And perhaps, Sebastian thought, leaning forward just slightly, it didn't. Not truly. Not anymore.