Leander's eyes widened, "Seriously?"
Cedric nodded, sighing. He played hockey with the vegetables on his plate, making a big smiley face, while Leander mulled over his words.
"I just can't seem to find a place for someone else in my heart." he mumbled.
But Leander wasn't concerned about that.
Many people didn't know it, but Cedric had been a real player back in the day, or so he thought. So the thing that troubled Leander wasn't his inability to move on, but the person he was unable to leave behind.
He was hesitating to ask him, but decided he needed to, to make sure he understood the man better.
"Um, quick question. Who was the original person you had a place for in your heart? Because I sure do remember there were quite a few."
Cedric looked up from his plate, brow raised, "Quite a few? Dear Leander, how many do you think there were?"
"Um... Ten?"
Cedric spurted out his wine, "Excuse me?"
Leander hurriedly handed him a napkin, glancing around if anyone saw. Damian did, and he looked between the men with a raised brow.
He smiled sheepishly and discreetly waved his hand, as if to say 'It's fine, everything's under control', while Cedric furiously wiped his face with the napkin.
"Seriously, man? Ten?" He put it down and glared at Lee.
"It was a... rough estimate."
"How rough was that estimate?! All this time, you thought I'd banged ten people?"
"Okay, okay, calm down. Just... tell me, to avoid... misunderstandings."
Cedric rolled his eyes, and sighed again, "Well, I mean... I have been with two or three young ladies, but one seemed to stick with me, even to this day."
"Which one, exactly?"
"Elizabeth Rhory."
Leander almost dropped his glass of lemonade. "Redhead Rhory?"
Cedric chuckled dryly, "Yeah. Her."
Leander very distinctly remembered the young redhead with a snarky attitude. She was the last woman Cedric had ever associated with before the war. The war was also precisely why they'd gone their separate ways, but Leander didn't know the whole story. He only got the gist of it through rumors.
"I thought you said you never wanted to see her face ever again?" he voiced.
Cedric smiled bitterly, "I told her to get lost, too. Even if it was for her own good, Sometimes, I even think what I feel isn't sorrow, but regret.. I'm such a fool."
"Woah, man." Leander mumbled, " I didn't think it ran that deep."
"Anyways, even if I love her or not, it's of no use."
"Yeah, I guess," Lee agreed.
It was true. Running after the Rhory County really was of no use. It fell five years ago, as the land Count Rhory ruled over was invaded by the Blackridges. Their sudden increase in assets and demands for authority is what drove the Emperor to upgrade them from a County to a Duchy.
"Anyways, enough depressing topics," Cedric changed the subject, which Leander was thankful for. Next thing he'd know, Cedric would be asking him about his love life, which Leander wasn't so sure of himself.
They continued to talk, taking the discussion over to light politics. Leander was active, presenting his opinion and arguing with the Duke where necessary.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his neck.
He flinched, quickly putting his hand back as the tips of his fingers involuntarily touched the cold skin of his neck. Cedric caught that.
"You okay?" His voice was filled with concern as he looked at Leander.
"Just peachy," Leander smiled weakly, but the growing pain near his throat wasn't so peachy.
He got up, "I- I'm going to be right back," he assured Cedric and ran off, somewhere away from the grand solarium where the tea party was being held.
. . .
"How long has it been since we last saw the Dowager Duchess?"
"So long, I forgot to keep count of the years," Thedosia joked.
They were seated somewhere on the left side of the huge solarium. Not just the solarium though, most of the Heisenberg Estate was quite large, even rivalling the Imperial Palace.
Artemesia, like she would at every other gathering, was busy examining all the guests, or in other words, the people Lady Luna was still acquainted with, even after years of residing in the isolated north.
Once she was done registering the nobles on her side, she risked a brief look toward the right wing. Not for long, though. An unmarried woman lingering over the gentlemen's tables was an easy target for gossip.
Without meaning to, she glanced ahead as well, toward the imperial and ducal families' table. But before she could correct herself, her eye caught something hard to miss.
The Winter Soldier was smiling. Laughing, even.
Never in her twenty two years of living did she see that man show the slightest bit of emotion. Neither in portraits, nor in real life, as they had quite a few encounters.
But today, he was laughing without a care in the world, with none other than the Crown Prince.
Wait, they're related?
Of course, they're related, Artemesia. Their mothers are sisters, which means they are cousins.
But she never thought they would be this close.
Just as she was about to nudge her mother and ask her just how close the Duke and Prince were, she saw a sudden change in Leander's expression.
It wasn't easy to spot, he flinched, and a split second later he was smiling again.
Duke Heisenberg seemed to notice that too, as he seemed to be asking Leander something with furrowed brows. But Leander, being the hero he was, shook it off like it was nothing and excused himself.
Is... he okay?
I'd better go and see for myself.
"Excuse me, Mother," she got up from the table, "I'll be right back,"
Thedosia raised a brow, but nodded anyway.
Artemesia hurried out of the solarium as discreetly as possible, and saw the Crown Prince escaping in a small, deserted chamber a few corridors away from the main hall.
. . .
"Damn it."
Leander grasped the mess of adornments at his neck and pulled. The pin lodged itself deeper into the jabot's lace, the jabot dragged at the cravat beneath it, and somewhere in the chaos a ceremonial chain slid coldly against his collarbone, entirely unhelpful. He only realized how badly he was losing the fight when the cravat cinched tight enough to steal his breath.
He groaned and froze, then forced himself to pause and inhale slowly. After a moment of careful fumbling, the lace loosened just enough to let him breathe. That was when he caught sight of the white bandages beneath his undershirt, and the red beginning to seep through them.
"Seriously? Here, of all places?" he mumbled, trying to undo the mess of fabric once again.
"Do stop strangling yourself."
Leander froze at the voice. Slowly, he tore his eyes away from the mirror and towards the uninvited guest in the doorway.
Artemesia casually waved, as if she hadn't just intruded on the Crown Prince almost strangling himself.
Leander mentally slapped himself, trying not to combust. "L-... Lady Montclair. W-what brings you here?"
A ghost of a smile played on her lips, "I'd ask if you needed help, but that seems evident."
He blushed, "I-... usually have the attendants or my nanny remove this. I-I'm... not very experienced."
"That much is clear, your Highness. You're losing to lace."
Leander opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, he licked his dry lips and turned his head, "Why are you here? How much more misery do you intend to cause me?"
Artemesia was taken aback, "I... That was not my intention, by all means. I saw you exiting the hall in a rush, I only wondered if everything was alrig-"
She froze mid sentence. Leander looked up, confused.
But in the mirror, her shocked reflection was staring at the now halfway bloody bandages around his neck.
"Your Highness-"
"Leave. Now." He frantically pulled up the loose lace to cover it up, but Artemesia showed no sign of leaving her position.
"Leaving now would be like abandoning your Highness when you need me," she said firmly, but her voice grew soft as she spoke on, "Please, let me."
He stared at the lady's extended hands and took a minute to contemplate.
"I-... fine..." he mumbled, giving in.
Lady Montclair smiled, then turned around and walked out of the room.
Leander made a confused sound, but soon understood as he heard her commanding voice dismissing the servants nearby, ordering a guard to be placed near their door and asking someone to fetch first aid.
As the orders were carried out, she came back in, closed the door with a soft click, and walked up to Leander.
Leander was busy trying to undo unfasten the nearest brooch. He froze as he saw Artemesia approaching him so easily.
She reached out, but then paused midair when she saw Leander's taut expression.
"Your-"
"Go ahead," he said a little too breathlessly.
She hovered for a moment, but then sighed and started undoing the fabric anyway.
. . .
He shuddered as the cold fingertips of Artemesia's fingers came in contact with his exposed neck.
A few minutes before, a maid had delivered the first aid box as Artemesia asked. It now sat on the table Leander was leaning against, trying to be as far away and as close to Artemesia as possible.
She was done with the unnecessary lace, which now lay discarded next to the first aid, and was working on the bandages with focus, while poor Leander could do everything but focus.
Her skin had a slight rosy tint to it, despite being as white as snow itself. Her lips looked soft and were tinted with the most beautiful shade of dusty rose, similar to her dressing. Her lashes cast long shadows on her cheeks which seemed to dance in the faint candlelight. And from up close, he could finally put a finger on what her eyes reminded him of.
The calm before the storm.
"Stitches?" Leander snapped out of it when he saw those lips move.
"Stitches? Oh, y-yes, I engaged in a duel but wasn't quite paying attention..."
"Just how diverted was your focus that you'd get injured this badly?" she wondered out loud.
Because I was thinking about you.
"It looks like one of those stitches popped..." he said instead.
Artemesia nodded, then backed away to reach inside the first aid to grab a needle.
Leander released a breath he didn't know he was holding in as she finally took her attention away from him. As he calmed down, he observed what she saw doing and furrowed his brows.
She reached for his neck again, but Leander carefully grabbed her wrist, "My Lady, you needn't do this..."
"It's alright. I don't mind. Actually, it'd be better if an outsider doesn't do it." she reasoned.
He knew she was right, but he would never let her get close enough to stitch up her wounds. If he didn't want to melt into a pool of hot goo, that is.
"Please-" he tried to argue, but Artemesia's debate skills were of no match for him. "If I stop now, what would you do, Your Highness? You could hardly loosen your cravat. Why would I trust you with a needle? And you shouldn't even think about going back out with an untreated injury this severe."
Leander looked taken aback, but reason got the better of him, and he sighed, giving in.
"...Fine."
Artemesia nodded, "Please hold still now, Your Highness. This may hurt a little."