Chapter Text
Sybella Greenwood peered through the curtains of her carriage window as the lush greenery of the countryside gave way to rows upon rows of sprawling mansions, rainbow-hued gardens, and immaculate fountains. Upon seeing her aunt’s familiar beige and gray manse, Sybella felt a pang of nostalgia fill her.
God, it’s been so long, I can’t remember the last time I came here, she thought as the carriage reached the gates surrounding the estate of her father’s sister, her Aunt Gloria’s estate. Life was so different back then.
As she watched the pleasantly familiar scenery pass her carriage by, she felt herself beginning to grieve the fact that she was there at all, sent against her will. Her grief rose like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm her, but Sybella pushed it down. She sat upright, composing herself as the gates opened and the hansom rolled through and up the stone path that led to the manor. The driver stopped before the enormous double doors of the house, where Aunt Gloria, who looked exactly as Sybella remembered from her perfectly coiffed hair to her colourful gown, patiently waited with her hands folded. Sybella placed her hands in her lap as she waited for the valet to open the door. Once the door was open and his hand extended toward her, she took it and stepped outside into the warm afternoon sunshine.
“Sybella, darling, it is so good to see you,” Aunt Gloria said.
Sybella walked toward her aunt, kissed both cheeks, and hugged her. “It’s good to see you again as well, Aunt Gloria. Although I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“As do I, dear,” Aunt Gloria replied with a somber expression. “I am so sorry about your dear mother; she was like a sister to me. But come,” she said, extending an arm to Sybella, “let me take you inside.”
Sybella took her aunt’s arm and followed her inside.
Astarion gazed at the lush grass and calm forest around him as his horse, a pure white Arabian named Blanche, trotted down the well-worn path. His thoughts raced a mile a minute as he slowly rode back home.
What announcement could father possibly be making, he thought as his lip curled upward in annoyance. No doubt it’s to admonish one or all of us for doing something we shouldn’t have.
Anxiety slithered through his gut like a serpent searching for its prey as the stables grew closer. Waiting until the last second, Astarion slowed Blanche’s pace and climbed out of her saddle. One of the stable boys was already waiting for him and took Blanche’s reins.
“My, that was quick,” Astarion remarked.
“Master Saint Clair is waiting for you, sir,” the boy replied.
“Then I shan’t keep him waiting,” said Astarion. “Thank you for your assistance.”
The boy nodded before hurriedly leading the horse into the stables. Without another word, Astarion walked toward the doors of the Saint Clair family mansion as his heart threatened to burst from his chest in anxious anticipation of whatever his father was soon to tell him. When he reached the back doors, two servants on either side opened them for him to step inside, and Astarion nodded in acknowledgment.
Shit, how long has Father been waiting for, thought Astarion as he walked down the long hallway.
When he reached the double doors to the parlor, the two servants on either side once again opened them for him.
“Thank you,” he said with a polite nod.
As his riding boots brushed against the soft carpet, his adoptive father and siblings turned in his direction. Despite Astarion’s pounding heart and slowly accumulating perspiration, he maintained a neutral expression as he approached the cluster of couches and armchairs, the last one to arrive at their father’s summons. Roman Saint Clair, the head of the family and his adoptive father, stood near the fireplace with his hands folded behind his back, a stance Astarion did his best to mirror.
“Astarion, it is about time,” Roman said.
“My apologies for my tardiness, Father, siblings,” Astarion replied, nodding at his siblings. “Please, continue.”
“We had not even begun,” Roman corrected.
“Yes, we were all waiting for the future Lord Saint Clair,” Perry teased.
Roman shot him a stern look. “Enough, Perry,” he chided. Perry fell silent as Roman’s gaze moved between Astarion and his siblings. “Now that you are all here, we may begin.” He started pacing back and forth between the rows of Astarion’s seated siblings. “It is no secret that I am growing old, which means I must also ensure the Saint Clair family legacy continues and choose one of you, my children, to become my successor as head of the family. That is why, as of this morning, Astarion is to inherit the Saint Clair title and family name. After careful deliberations, it is he whom I have chosen to lead this family forward.” As he stopped and his gaze moved to Astarion, Astarion felt the strong urge to run out of the room and never return.
God, I’m not ready, Astarion thought, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.
“As a result, this means you will be required to stop dallying around and settle down,” Roman continued.
In his peripheral vision, Astarion saw the matching mischievous grins on Perry and Leon’s faces at the prospect, and his heart sank.
“As such, I will be seeking an eligible marriage partner for Astarion,” Roman continued. “I intend to find someone before the end of this social season. To find someone I deem a suitable match, I will be hosting a masquerade ball early next week, to which I have invited the most respected families in the area. For the moment, that is all. Everyone is dismissed.”
Astarion listened to the sound of his heart pounding against his ribcage as his siblings stood up from their places and left the room. All of his siblings, save for Dahlia.
The interior of Aunt Gloria’s mansion was just as Sybella remembered it from her childhood, right down to the last vase. She was grateful when Aunt Gloria finally showed her to her room, and the familiar blue and white surroundings comforted Sybella could feel the grief she had suppressed upon her arrival resurfacing, and flopped onto the bed and sobbed into her pillow.
“Oh, Father, why did you send me away?” she cried.
After a few moments, she heard a knock and looked up at the door. Quickly, she sat up, grabbing her handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes, praying they didn’t look too red.
“Come in,” she replied. Quickly, she sat up and grabbed her handkerchief, dabbing her eyes and praying they didn’t look too red.
The door opened, and a familiar woman in a magenta dress entered the room.
“Good afternoon, miss,” she said.
“Adelaide? It’s good to see you!” Sybella replied, with a genuine smile on her face for the second time that day. “It’s been too long.”
Adelaide had been a servant for her Aunt Gloria since Sybella was a child. Whether it was tending to a scraped knee or comforting her after a troubling nightmare, Adelaide had acted as another mother to Sybella. Having her here would be a boon to Sybella.
“And you, miss,” Adelaide said. “And let me say, you have my deepest sympathies about your mother.”
“Thank you,” Sybella said, wiping a stray tear from her eyes.
“I’ve come because your aunt is having friends over, and she wishes for you to join her whenever you are ready,” Adelaide replied.
“Will I need to change gowns?” Sybella asked.
Adelaide shook her head. “I do not believe so.”
Sybella pushed off the bed and stood up, joining Adelaide near the door.
“Tell me, what gossip have I missed while I was away?” Sybella inquired as she followed Adelaide down the hallway.
Even as Astarion turned to leave, Dahlia walked toward him. Out of all of his siblings, she was the one who irritated him the least. Since she had been adopted shortly after him, Astarion trusted her with his secrets more than anyone else.
“Astarion, I’m so sorry I had no idea—” she began.
“Don’t,” he said, holding up his hand to stop the rest of her reply. “I am now the heir, which means it’s expected of me to do this. That is what father has decided.”
Dahlia looked to him with condolence as she continued. “I know, but—"
“I know. And while I appreciate it, I am not looking for sympathy at this moment.”
Without another word, he turned and left the parlor. Making his way toward the stables again, he found the same stable boy who was present when he returned home.
“I require a carriage into town,” Astarion said.
“Of course, sir,” the boy nodded. “But I need to find the stablemaster.”
“Quickly, I don’t have all day.”
Astarion crossed his arms as he stared at the endless sea of trees just beyond their property line, letting his mind wander while waiting for the boy to return. After what his father had told him. There was one person he desperately needed to see.
With any luck, Sebastian is working in town today.
Sybella picked up her skirt with one hand and followed Adelaide to the parlor, where her Aunt Gloria was already having tea with three other women. As Adelaide announced her arrival, Aunt Gloria stopped talking and stood up, facing her niece.
“There you are,” said Aunt Gloria. “Come here, won’t you, darling?”
Sybella walked toward her aunt and stood before her.
“Sybella, these are my friends Vivan, Hermione, and Prudence,” Aunt Gloria said, gesturing to each woman in turn. “Ladies, this is my brother’s child, Sybella Greenwood. The one I was telling you about.”
Shit, is that good or bad? Sybella thought, pasting a polite smile on her face.
“Oh, she’s simply charming,” Vivan said, batting her fan at herself just so.
“She’ll be the belle of every ball, surely,” Hermione agreed.
“Vivan, Hermione, and Prudence’s nieces are just outside, having their tea,” Aunt Gloria said, gesturing out the parlor doors to the patio beyond. “Why don’t you join them, dearest?”
Sybella nodded. “Of course.”
She picked up her skirt, turned, and walked outside to find three younger ladies seated around a circular table. One woman had long, dark hair she wore in a simple bun, the other had curly white hair, while the third sported a bonnet. All three were deep in conversation and paused, turning around to face Sybella as she approached them.
“Welcome, you must be Gloria’s niece,” said the woman wearing a bonnet. She stood up and walked closer to Sybella, “I am Karina Cliffhaven.”
Sybella kissed Karina’s cheeks, and Karina moved to one side. “Oi, you lot, come introduce yourselves.”
The white-haired woman stood up and moved closer to Sybella. “I am Luna Halloway,” she said, kissing Sybella on both cheeks. Sybella returned the gesture, and Luna moved to stand beside Karina.
“Must I?” the dark-haired woman inquired.
“Yes,” Karina and Luna answered at the same time.
The dark-haired woman sighed as she lifted herself from the chair and walked toward Sybella. “I am Elizabeth Theodora Josephina—"
“We just call her Liz,” Karina interjected.
If looks could kill, Liz’s expression would’ve sent Karina to an early grave. Sybella stifled a laugh as she watched Karina maintain Liz’s gaze. Despite the intensity of the glare, Karina didn’t so much as flinch, and slowly, Liz shifted her attention back to Sybella.
“Yes, my name is Liz for those who cannot be bothered,” Liz amended.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” said Sybella, before gesturing to the table. “Please, let’s sit and enjoy this tea my aunt has made.”
Everyone, Liz included, followed Sybella’s suggestion.
“Technically, one of the servants made it,” Liz pointed out as they all sat down, and Luna rolled her eyes. “Do not roll your eyes at me, moonchild, you know it is true.”
“Moonchild?” Sybella asked with a raised brow, glancing at Karina.
Luna sighed. “It is said that I was born during a full moon, which is why my parents named me as they did.”
“At any rate,” Karina said, trying to steer the conversation away from an all-out brawl. “Your Aunt Gloria told us the news, we are very sorry to hear about your mother, Sybella.”
“Yes, we are,” Luna agreed while Liz sipped on her tea.
“Thank you,” said Sybella, as she grabbed the milk pitcher and a cup and began to pour. “Honestly, it feels as if my whole world has been ripped from under me.”
“It’s hard, losing someone you love like that,” Karina added, as she sipped her tea. “I’ve lost my mother as well.”
“How long ago?” Sybella asked.
“A few years now,” Karina replied.
“Enough doom and gloom,” Liz interjected. “The next season is about to start. Does anyone have any thoughts regarding the eligible bachelors or bachelorettes?”
“I, for one, would be interested to see if Astarion, Roman Saint Clair’s son, gets removed from the market,” Luna said. “He has been single for some time now.”
“Yes, but doesn’t he have a down-low lover?” Karina asked with a raised brow.
Sybella listened to the ladies’ gossip as she finished pouring and sipped her tea.
Once a carriage had been prepared, Astarion rode into Riverhaven. He slouched in his seat and gazed out the window as fat, lazy clouds floated across the calm, blue sky.
Such a lovely day.
Astarion absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the windowsill as his gaze switched to watching the mansions of the rich and powerful transform into the bustling city and everything that came with it: merchants hawking their wares, people, and horses occupying the same cobblestone streets, dirty children running here and there. The hansom weaved through the busy road until Astarion noticed the sign for The Gilded Lily ahead.
He leaned forward and raised his voice. “Driver, stop the carriage if you please.”
The driver did as he was told, and the carriage stopped outside the pleasure house. The valet opened his door, and Astarion stepped outside.
“I shan’t be long,” he said.
He looked around the street to ensure no one was watching before he slipped inside. Astarion’s heart raced inside his chest as his boots brushed against the plush carpet. Fortunately, owing to the time of day, the normally bustling brothel was empty, save for its owner, Madam Amira Devereaux.
She turned to him and beamed. “Astarion Saint Clair, my best customer. What can I do for you?”
“Is Sebastian here?” Astarion asked, cutting right to the quick. “I urgently need to speak with him.”
Madam Deveraux’s eyes gleamed. “Well, of course. He’s in his room.”
Astarion nodded. “Thank you, I shan’t be long.”
He turned and hurried up the nearby stairs on the left side of the room, walking down the hallway until he reached the second-to-last doorway. Astarion knocked firmly twice until the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a strong, handsome man with long, dark hair.
“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked, as his eyes widened to the size of saucers.
“We need to talk, inside,” Astarion replied.
“O-of course,” said Sebastian.
He opened the door wider, and Astarion entered the familiar room.
I will never see this place, ever again, he thought as his heart squeezed tightly in his chest.
Once Sebastian closed the door, he turned to Astarion with a raised brow. “What’s this about?”
“I had to see you, for the last time,” Astarion replied. He moved toward Sebastian, who remained where he was.
“W-what do you mean?” Sebastian asked, as his voice trembled.
How I wish I could hold him and make everything right, Astarion thought bitterly. But I cannot.
With a pained sigh, Astarion held his lover’s gaze. “My father has recently announced that I will inherit the Saint Clair title and, as such, I am to be married.”
“No,” Sebastian cried out, his expression one of pure horror.
“I am so sorry, my love,” Astarion walked closer now and tilted the other man’s chin up to look at him. He brought Sebastian’s face closer and, ever so gently, kissed him. “I’m afraid this is goodbye.”
Without another word, he released Sebastian’s chin, turned, and left the room.