"Vodka?!" Thalia cried while Sabrina and the others stood there, stunned.
"Goodness gracious," Damian had his hand in front of his mouth, as if trying to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.
Poor Adrian didn't even know what was going on, "What's vodka?"
Silence and shock settled on them, but it wasn't long before Countess Crispin regained her composure.
"Adrian, back to your room. Damian, escort him. Thalia, you as well." She gave quick orders to everyone, looking around to see if there were any witnesses. "And do not breathe a word about this to anyone, not even their Majesties. If they ask you, tell them I ordered you not to tell them." she added, pushing them out.
"Nan-" was all they could mutter before the door was shut on their faces once again.
"What on Earth was that?!" Thalia cried.
"Shush! Nanny said not to talk about this anymore." Damian warned.
"Come on, Addy, let's go back."
Adrian looked up at his brother, "Will Brother Lee be okay?"
Thalia and Damian looked at each other, exchanging glances, but then Thalia smiled softly at the youngest and assured, "There's no illness that Nanny can't cure."
. . .
Velvet...
"Where... am I...?" Leander cracked open an eye, the sight before him, messy room and unorganized belongings, was the same as a few nights ago. Or was it a few weeks? He couldn't tell.
"In hell." Someone replied.
"Huh?" He looked up to stare at the ceiling, "then she better be here with me."
A beat later, he could hear the crisp sound of a page being flipped.
"She? Who is this 'she', Leander Halycra?"
"Who are you? The devil...?"
She scoffed, "Maybe,"
Leander finally gathered all the strength to prop himself up on one elbow and look at the speaker.
"...Nanny...?" He finally realized where he was, and his voice had a tinge of vulnerability as he called out for the Countess.
"Yes, it's me. Sabrina Crispin. Do you remember, or are you so drunk you forgot who practically raised you?" she snapped.
Leander blinked sluggishly, confused. "Drunk? I'm not drunk. I don't drin-"
He froze, the memories of a few nights ago finally resurfacing.
Bottle after bottle of alcohol, no food for forty-eight hours, barely asleep, barely awake.
Sabrina was reading a book on an armchair by the fire, the light casting shadows on her face that really did make her look like the devil.
"So? Are you finally in your senses?" she mocked.
He groggily sat up, head swimming, "I'm not a kid, I can drink. Why are you offended?"
"Oh?" There was a dangerous edge to her voice as she spoke, "If I shouldn't be offended, what should I be?"
Leander raised his brows. Maybe in amusement, maybe in confusion.
The book in her hand snapped shut sharply, "Even after all these years of teaching you the difference between right and wrong," she got up and slowly circled Leander's chaise like a predator, "who do you think the blame would fall to if someone spotted you in this condition?"
Leander paused, then looked down.
He gulped, the burning taste of the alcohol still clinging to his throat.
His belt was undone, one of his socks was off, his shirt was half open, exposing the pale skin underneath, there was dried up saliva on the side of his cheek. He didn't have a mirror, but he knew his hair was a masterpiece of its own.
He smelled stale, and he had the same clothes on for a while now.
A moment passed as he examined himself, accompanied by silence and the crackling of the fireplace.
"I-... I'm... sorry," he mumbled, head dropped low.
Sabrina paused, taken aback, "...Sorry?"
"I-... I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to be rude, I didn't mean to..."
His nanny stood there for a minute, stunned.
She moved closer, sitting beside him, her fingers warm against his skin. Leander looked up to find her wiping away tears he hadn't known were there.
"Why are you crying?" she mumbled, caressing his cheek.
"I don't know," He finally broke into a sob, shoulders sagging as he sank in the woman's embrace.
. . .
"How is he now?" Celestia asked.
"He's resting. I've given him some herbal medications, so he should be fine when he comes around." Sabrina explained.
The Empress sighed, "How did it come to this?"
The Countess sympathized, "I'm not sure myself. There must be some kind of emotional burden he's been carrying that has taken a toll on him."
"Emotional burden...?" She mulled over her words, "Well, I suppose... that would count as an emotional burden"
"Pardon?"
"No, no, never mind. I'll talk to him myself when he's up." Celestia shook her head, deciding against it.
Sabrina raised a brow, "Is there something I should know, Your Majesty?"
She nodded honestly, "There is, but I'm sure he'll tell you himself."
Sabrina pursed her lips, but then agreed, "As you wish, Your Majesty."
. . .
Leander woke to the soothing feeling of something scratching at his scalp.
He slowly looked up without lifting his head, to the sight of his Mother's face lost in thought.
He took a moment to take in his surroundings.
The floors were swept, discarded clothes gathered, fresh sheets laid underneath him, and the curtains drawn back just enough to let the early morning light in.
"Your Majesty?" he murmured.
The Empress jumped back, and looked down at her son's swollen green eyes.
"Leander. You're up?" the stroking paused, which irritated Leander, but he nodded anyway.
She smiled softly, "Good."
A moment or two passed like that, in which neither of them initiated the conversation that was hanging in the air.
Finally, Leander mustered up the courage and wondered out loud, "You... aren't going to ask me anything...?"
He felt her shake her head, "You know you can confide in me with anything, and I know you'll tell me when you're ready."
Leander's heart pounded at those words, and he finally decided to spill, "If... you ask me, then I'll know where to start."
Celestia chuckled dryly, "Alright, I can be the bad guy for today. What happened at Luna's?"
He gulped, "I-... I'm not sure myself."
"Oh? Why were you so miserable then? Starving yourself, even drinking crude northern spirits that soldiers get addicted to.."
"I... hurt her."
Celestia made sure her tone was calm and steady as she probed further, "How so?"
"She... she was trying to help me, and I... threatened her. Like an idiot."
"What?"
"I told her to get lost, reminded her that I was her crown prince, insulted her."
The woman paused, "That's... not very nice of you."
"I know, and I'm sorry."
"The one who you should be sorry to isn't me, but her."
"I don't have the courage left to face her anymore."
"How are you sure that's cowardice and not pride getting in your way?"
Leander hesitated.
"And how are you sure she didn't take her actions as seriously as you took them yourself? By actions, I mean, whatever drove you to push her away."
She was right. Here he was, destroying himself like an idiot, while she may not even think much of the way she acted, since she might've been doing that out of habit, or obligation.
After all, he was injured.
"What... should I do now?"
"Pay her a visit. And learn restraint." she advised.
"When you speak as Crown Prince," she added, "the other person does not hear a man. They hear the throne."
Leander shut his eyes and sighed heavily, making his decision.