Leander always loved patterns and optical illusions, but this one illusion in front of him seemed the most boring and he was getting sleepy just by staring at it.
Step in, step out, step right, then twirl. Step out, step in, step left, then twirl again.
Don't those nobles get tired of dancing the night away? He once heard from his Mother that noblewomen had to wear tight corsets and high heels, heavy gowns and scratchy jewelry. Why don't they want to just scream in overstimulation? He was already sweating a great deal in this tacky outfit.
Finally, the song ended. Just as the crowd dispersed, new faces joined and another waltz began. Lee groaned.
Suddenly, he felt a nudge from his left. Damian, the Second Prince, was sitting beside him on his throne.
"Brother, are you well? Your face is red, and you seem more irritable than usual."
He looked over at him, and sighed dramatically. "No, Damian, I'm not well." he pointed to the rashes made by the doublet on his neck.
Damian frowned. "It's silk. It's not supposed to rash like that. Are your allergies acting up again?"
"I don't know, Damian, and I don't care. I want to get out of this hall as soon as possible. This coronet is too heavy, and these breeches are itchy." he mumbled.
"Stop complaining, Lee. You know you have to look your best. It's your younger brother's birthday." The Empress reminds him from his right. Her throne was higher and fancier than his, but he could still clearly hear her.
Leander sighed. It was no use convincing Mother. Her word was the last.
Just then, the doors to the banquet hall opened and the herald struck his staff upon the floor.
"Entering: Duchess Thedosia, Young Lord Jonathan and Young Lady Artemesia of Montclair!"
Leander perked up at the sound of another noble to criticize, but as the figures entered, he seemed to have lost himself.
The announcement rolled across the hall and the room seemed to pause for a moment. The Duchess entered first, her wine-red gown sweeping across the marble, silver rings catching the light. Following her was Jonathan Montclair, age 17, his chin held high as his cloak trailed behind him.
A wave of bows and curtsies rippled through the gathering as the family crossed the marble floor to take their place of honor. Then, the music resumed and nobles continued their dancing.
But Leander hadn't even glanced at anything else. His attention was focused solely on one subject.
Artemesia Montclair walked elegantly beside her mother as if carrying the Montclair name with her, light purple skirts fluttering and her golden laurel catching the candlelight. Her dark gray eyes scanned all the faces that greeted her mother like she was storing the memory for later use, but they softened when she saw someone she was familiar with. Light brown waves fell over her shoulder as she gave a diplomatic smile to nobles passing by. Occasionally, she would wave a delicate, gloved hand at a relative, paired with a genuine smile, but most of the time she looked as if she was an impregnable fortress.
Leander felt hypnotized. Every motion of her face, and fidget of her fingers seemed like a spell. His body felt numb and his face paralyzed, but he snapped back to earth soon enough by his Mother's voice.
"Leander Halycra."
Leander jumps. He tears his eyes away from the new face, to meet one he was familiar and awfully irritated with.
He tries to conceal an expression of disgust as the Duke and Duchess of Calvethra, along with their children, bow to the Imperial Family.
"The Ducal House of Calvethra greets the sun and moon of the empire, His Imperial Majesty, The Emperor and Her Imperial Majesty, The Empress."
"You may rise." The Emperor commands and the nobles lift their heads. "It's been a while, Sebastian. Yes?"
"Certainly, Your Majesty. I haven't heard from you for very long while I was abroad, I thought the Second Prince's birthday would be a great occasion to catch up."
The Emperor chuckles. "You thought correct, dear brother. How have you been doing?"
"By the grace of the Emperor and everything that was bestowed upon us by God, we are well, Your Majesty."
That, as Leander knew very well, was the start of a very long and boring conversation. He groaned inwardly, and tore his gaze away from the terrible fashion sense of the Calvethras.
Unwillingly, he found himself searching the crowd for the same face. Somehow, he missed the young lady's name when it was announced, but he knew her face very well and was determined to find her.
Eventually, he did. She was standing at the corner of the ballroom, her gaze unfocused and her expression reserved.
Unwillingly, he blurted out, "She's shy?"
His family and the Duke's stopped mid conversation to turn and look at him like he was crazy.
His Mother raised a brow. "Pardon?"
"N-nothing.. Sorry. Slipped out." He blushed and looked away.
That was all the Duke's family needed to pounce on him. And that was also precisely why he hated them.
"Ah, if I'm not wrong, the First Prince's birthday is also in a few months. He'll be turning thirteen, correct?" The Duchess piped up.
The Empress nodded. "Absolutely."
"That should mean he would be able to inherit the title of crown prince very soon!" Lady Lucrezia squealed. She was the most annoying one out of the three Ladies of House Calvethra, and apparently, she was the fondest of Lee.
"Yes, I'm afraid. Though it never seems he's grown enough for the title and its responsibility." The Emperor sighed.
Just as one of them was about to come up with an infuriating remark, a few other families gathered nearby, waiting for the Duke to finish up so they could greet the Emperor.
And apparently, Montclair was one of those families.
And they were right after Calvethra.
Leander straightened as the emperor was wrapping up their conversation.
The infuriating family finally stepped aside as Lucrezia very indiscreetly blew Lee a kiss.
As the podium was cleared, The Duchess stepped on, followed by her children.
"Thedosia of Montclair greets His and Her majesty, the Sun and Moon of the Empire."