Chapter 56: Their Story (6)

Chapter 56: Their Story (6)

August 20, 1600:

Goodbye? Why is she saying goodbye like it's forever? Sebastian blinked at Acier, who sat beside him with an impassive face. Beneath her calm exterior, something felt... off. A quiet panic began clawing its way through his chest.

It was 2:00, the usual time for Acier to return to her castle for lunch, as she had done every day for the past five days. Her farewell shouldn't have surprised him. But this time, it did. Her tone wasn't casual—it was heavy. Somber. And the oppressiveness of it coiled in the air around her like a storm cloud.

Sebastian studied her. She was stiff, fidgeting awkwardly. He tried to keep his composure, but inside, his thoughts were spiraling.

Did I offend her? Hurt her somehow? Is she tired of me? Done with me? Am I a bad friend? Well... I've never really done much for her, so maybe I am... but still...

From his perspective, everything had been going well. They'd hit it off over the past few days. Sure, their first morning together after that awkward parting at his shack had been tense, but since then, their time together had been nothing short of pleasant.

No heavy talks. No unnecessary drama. Just light banter, the occasional joke, and easy conversation as Sebastian went about his work tending to patients.

He'd even tried to break out of his shell, to be more considerate, more caring. And her constant smile—her look of contentment—had made him believe he was doing a decent job. She'd shown no signs of dissatisfaction, no hint of a gap between them.

Even today, she had seemed as happy as ever.

So why now? Why all of a sudden? Why is she looking at me like that?

Sebastian bit his lip, fighting back his agitation as he opened his mouth. Her words echoed in his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from repeating them aloud.

"Goodbye...?"

His tone was colder than he intended, but her slight nod reassured him she hadn't taken it as harshly as he feared.

Acier offered a weak smile and twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. "My birthday... My coming-of-age ceremony is at the end of the month. You know that."

Sebastian nodded. Of course, he knew. Even as a self-proclaimed outcast, living in Silva territory meant he couldn't escape the buzz of preparations. Retainers and servants had been working day and night, running around the estate, to make sure everything was perfect.

"But what does that have to do with anything?" he asked, his voice steady, though his heart was anything but.

Acier turned her head slightly, avoiding his gaze as she replied hoarsely. "There's... a lot to prepare. Especially for me. Things I have to learn and master personally. I have to stay at Castle Silva until the ceremony... and likely a few days after." She hesitated, then added softly, "And so..."

"Our time together is over."

Her breath hitched at his blunt interruption, the icy tone making her flinch. She nodded weakly, lowering her head.

But a moment later, she straightened and plastered on a bright smile.

Any other time, Sebastian might have been enchanted by that smile. But not now. He could see it for what it was: fake.

Acier patted his shoulder lightly. "Come on, Sebastian, lighten up. After this little thing is over, I'll be back."

He didn't respond. He knew a lie when he heard one.

After a tense pause, Acier bit her lip and hesitated before reaching into her side bag. She pulled out a glass card, handing it to him with a tentative look.

Sebastian accepted it carefully, his eyes drawn to its intricate beauty. Silver floral embroidery framed the edges, and a silver eagle gleamed proudly at its center. The words etched in gold caught his eye.

You are cordially invited to the 14th Birthday and Coming-of-Age Ceremony of Princess Acier, of House Silva.

We look forward to seeing you there.

The card was exquisite—likely worth more than everything Sebastian owned. On any other day, the weight of it might have made his hands tremble. But now, that thought was far from his mind.

His focus remained on Acier. She stared back at him, her expression stiff, awkward. And for the first time, Sebastian found himself wondering if he'd ever really known her at all.

He couldn't shake the stirs of regret. These past two weeks with her—he'd taken them for granted, hadn't he? And now, there might not be any more. He felt like he'd wasted their time together, always on the receiving end and never giving anything back.

The words barely registered when he heard her voice.

"I know... these kinds of large gatherings aren't your thing..." Acier started, her voice soft and uncertain. She glanced at him with an apologetic smile. "But I still hope... you can be there... for me... even though..."

Even though we won't have anything to do with each other during the ceremony.

Sebastian and Acier couldn't risk walking together in the noble realm, even in disguise. Cloaks, masks—none of it would be enough.

There was no way in hell Sebastian could act familiar with Acier at her party. Not under the watchful eyes of the nobility and her grandfather. Doing so would be nothing short of suicidal.

If he went, it would be as a shadow, standing alone in a corner, awkwardly lingering by the snack bar while she entertained the crowd. Watching her from afar.

And she wouldn't dare to look at him. Not even once. Every glance she made would be scrutinized, every gesture analyzed. If anyone saw her looking Sebastian's way, she wouldn't be able to brush it off as coincidence. No excuses would save her. The mere act of acknowledging his presence could bring death upon him.

Acier knew how selfish this request was. She would be asking him to endure that isolation, that humiliation. He didn't know anyone, and no noble or royal would lower themselves to speak to him.

Some wouldn't stop at ignoring him—they might harass or torment him for their own amusement, just to remind him of his place.

She knew all this. And yet, she couldn't help herself.

She wanted him there. Even if she couldn't look at him, even if he was nothing more than an invisible presence in the crowd, she wanted to feel that he was close. One last time.

Because after the ceremony, she would never see him again—at least not like this.

Not as a friend.

A noblewoman didn't have male friends. The closest she could come would be acquaintances among her husband's companions. If Acier met with Sebastian after her acknowledgment as a woman, it would be seen as a romantic courtship.

And Sebastian? A man with no name, no influence, no power? He wouldn't just be ostracized. He'd be executed.

They both knew it.

Nothing would be the same after this.

She dusted off her dress as she rose from the stool, flashing him a cheeky grin. "Don't feel pressured to come. It's no biggie if you don't."

Before Sebastian could respond, she reached into her satchel again and dropped something else into his lap.

He looked down. It was a magic communication tool, a rod-like device topped with a large, expensive gem.

Sebastian stared at it wordlessly, not demanding that she take it back. His silence made her smile more warmly.

She patted his shoulder again. "If you do decide to come, use that to contact me in advance. There's a dress code, and we'll need to get you a proper suit. I don't want you making a fool of yourself. Naturally, I'll cover the cost, so don't even worry about it."

Sebastian nodded stiffly, almost mechanically.

Her eyes lit up briefly before she raised a finger, frowning. "But only if you want to come. Don't force yourself. Take a day or two to think about it carefully."

Another nod.

She paused, her expression softening. Then, with a light curtsy, she murmured, "Goodbye, Sebastian."

And hopefully, this isn't the last time I say these words.

Her eyes shimmered as she fought back tears. She trembled, turned, and darted up the hill, sprinting back toward the royal capital for lunch.

Sebastian watched her go, a growing void gnawing at his chest. The farther she ran, the deeper it grew, twisting into a black hole that consumed him as she disappeared into the distance.

He clutched the invitation card in one hand and the transponder in the other, gripping them tightly.

A feeling crept into his heart.

If he didn't go to her birthday ceremony, he'd never see her again.

Sebastian didn't like that feeling.

August 21, 1600:

"I see you're back. What can I make for you this time?"

The adulterous Boismortier painter looked up at Sebastian with glee. Seated on his roadside mat amidst a disorganized sprawl of canvases, paintbrushes, and buckets, he seemed far too at ease with the chaos.

Though Acier had left him with a decent amount of money during her last visit back at the beginning of the month, the painter had no intention of turning down extra coin. He was used to a life of indulgence, even as a branch member of his former noble House. He had already spent half the money, and could always use more.

So, when Sebastian approached, the painter was relieved.

Sebastian reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver yule. The painter's eyes lit up, his anticipation palpable—until the coin was unceremoniously dropped into his lap.

"I have some questions that need answering," Sebastian said flatly.

The painter froze, momentarily caught off guard. I'm a painter, not an information broker, you know... he thought inwardly, suppressing the urge to voice his complaint.

Still, the thought lingered: perhaps he should change professions. He'd made more money from Acier and Sebastian's odd inquiries than he had from painting in months. With a broad smile and a shrug, he nodded.

"Go ahead."

Sebastian didn't waste time. His question came through the Mind Ring, direct and to the point. "What do you know of Princess Acier's upcoming birthday celebration?"

The painter stiffened, clicking his tongue in mild exasperation. Last time, she asked me about you. Now you're asking me about her. Don't tell me there's nothing going on between the two of you.

Hey, Sebastian, do you have a favorite flower?

"No," he had answered then, curt as always. But then he'd faltered, a rare moment of cooperation compelling him to ask in return, What about you?

The look on her face that day—surprise, followed by radiant joy—had stayed with him. The mere act of reciprocating a simple question had filled her with such delight that it, in turn, had stirred something in him.

Favorite flower? Hmmm... let's see. I'd have to say...

"Hyacinths," Sebastian murmured aloud, startling the shopkeeper. Realizing his mistake, he flushed slightly and clarified, "Do you have any hyacinths that symbolize... friendship?"

The shopkeeper tilted her head in curiosity before smiling softly. She crouched behind her stall and emerged with a vibrant cluster of blue blossoms shaped like tiny stars, their delicate stems rising from lush green leaves.

"Of course, sir," she said, holding them out. "The blue hyacinth symbolizes friendship, sincerity, and eternal loyalty."

Sebastian's ocean-blue eyes brightened as he smiled faintly—a rare and fleeting expression. He placed a gold coin on the counter, the metallic clink resonating in the quiet shop.

"Can you prepare several of these into a bouquet for Sunday?" he asked.

The shopkeeper's grin widened. "Of course, sir! I'll ensure they're fresh and ready for pickup at any time that day."

Sebastian nodded politely before turning to leave.

As she watched him go, the shopkeeper hesitated for a moment, biting her lip. She had omitted one detail about the flowers.

Blue hyacinths also symbolize love. Deep, abiding love.

August 26, 1600:

Count Vardy blinked at the gold coin Sebastian held out to him.

"What's this?" he asked, puzzled. Sebastian had already paid him handsomely for dance lessons.

Sebastian bowed deeply. "Please, sir, teach me noble etiquette and elegance."

Vardy's brows furrowed as suspicion flickered in his emerald eyes. "Why?"

Sebastian didn't respond immediately, but his posture betrayed his resolve.

The count's gaze sharpened, and he tapped his cane rhythmically against the hardwood floor. "You're attending Princess Acier's ceremony, aren't you?"

Sebastian stiffened but nodded.

Vardy's lips twisted into a knowing smirk. "And you plan to ask for the princess's hand in a dance."

Sebastian met his teacher's piercing eyes, his expression unwavering as he nodded again.

Vardy let out a resigned sigh, rubbing his temples. "Fine," he said, taking the coin and slipping it into his pocket. "I'll teach you. After all, I'll be attending the ceremony myself, and I'll be damned if one of my students makes a fool of me."

Sebastian bowed deeply, gratitude evident in his tone. "Thank you, sir!"

Thwack!

Vardy's cane struck the back of Sebastian's head, making him wince. The older man scoffed. "Let's start by fixing that atrocious bow of yours. A noble bow is at least 45 degrees, but for someone like you, meeting people far above your station, anything less than 50 degrees is unacceptable."

Sebastian suppressed the urge to argue. Instead, he lowered his gaze and forced himself to bow deeper, his muscles protesting as his back cracked audibly.

"Yes, sir!"

Vardy nodded in satisfaction, tapping his cane against the floor once more. "Good. Now we'll see if you survive the rest of my lessons."

August 27, 1600:

Sebastian entered Éclat de Gemmes (Brilliance of Gems), an opulent jewelry store nestled in the noble district of the royal capital. Without hesitation, he approached the front counter, where a neatly dressed clerk greeted him with a courteous bow.

"How may I assist you, sir?"

Sebastian nodded, his tone businesslike. "Do you sell rings? Friendship rings," he clarified after a moment.

The clerk smiled, clearly accustomed to noble clients seeking custom pieces. "Of course, sir. This way, please."

He gestured for Sebastian to follow, leading him down the length of the glass display case. At the far end, he paused and waved toward an extravagant array of rings adorned with grandiose designs.

Sebastian's eyes twitched—not at the price tags, but at the overly ornate engravings: I love you, My dear, Forever yours. The saccharine declarations made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He forced a polite smile and shook his head. "Do you carry plain rings?"

The clerk, unfazed, offered a gracious nod and led him back to the simpler section of the display. Here, he gestured to an assortment of plain rings, neatly arranged by material—diamond, gold, platinum, iron, copper, and brass.

Sebastian's gaze lingered on a modest brass band. Without hesitation, he pointed at it.

"This one," he said curtly, then added, "Two of them."

The clerk retrieved the rings with care, placing them delicately on the counter.

Sebastian glanced at the clerk. "Do you do engravings?"

The clerk beamed. "Naturally, sir."

Sebastian nodded again. "I need one of them wrapped and encased for Sunday. As for the engraving..." He hesitated before asking, "Do you have any suggestions?"

The clerk's smile widened. "In fact, I do, sir. Leave it to me."

Satisfied, Sebastian placed two gold coins on the counter, securing the transaction before exiting the store.

August 28, 1600:

Sebastian worked absently, his hands resting on a patient's head as he treated a bump sustained from a fall down the stairs. His mind, however, was elsewhere, his gaze fixed on an empty seat in the corner of the clinic.

That seat had been vacant for days.

He narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Soon. Very soon."

August 29, 1600:

Sebastian entered Carrosses Élégants (Elegant Carriages), a prominent carriage rental service in the capital. He approached the counter with purpose, where a refined-looking madame greeted him warmly.

"I'd like to rent a carriage for Sunday," he stated plainly.

"Certainly, sir. For what time?"

"6:00," he replied.

The madame began a series of inquiries, jotting down details as they spoke.

"Any color preference?"

"Plain and simple."

"And for the steed?"

"Unassuming, yet elegant."

"How many passengers?"

"Just one—myself."

The madame smiled as she completed the form. "Excellent, sir. The rental fee is one gold."

Sebastian handed over the last of the 30 gold coins Acier had entrusted to him, sealing the arrangement.

August 30, 1600:

Throughout the day, Sebastian bid farewell to his regulars and patients, informing them that his clinic would be closed the following day.

August 31, 1600:

At precisely 6:30, a plain black carriage, modest yet refined, rolled through the cobblestone streets of the royal capital. The single-enclosed vehicle was drawn by an Andalusian horse, its coat gleaming under the moonlight. A coachman in a simple black hat held the reins, guiding the carriage toward the grand gates of Castle Silva.

The procession of carriages varied wildly—some were extravagant, adorned with gilded embellishments, while others were understated, marked only by subtle symbols of their owners' rank. Each spoke volumes about its occupant.

Sebastian's unassuming carriage blended seamlessly into the mix, neither drawing undue attention nor fading entirely into the background.

Princess Acier Silva's birthday celebration was set to begin in half an hour.

Author's Notes:

[1] Next Chapter will be a longer, more detailed one.

[2] As always feel free to join the discord at: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8a