As news of Sebastian being tamed by a lovely young lady from the palace spread like wildfire, he remained heedless, immersed in Keith's work. Sitting in the same room with serene atmosphere covering the air with thick scent of aged paper and ink. With each stroke of his pen, Sebastian's face was folded with creased, shattering the tranquility of the room with the frantic scratching of his pen against the page.
He finally lost it. Huh!
Keith thought as he sat comfortably across the room, savoring a steaming cup of tea. As a wave of déjà vu washed over him, echoing a familiar memory of his own misfortune.
"You know, it will come when you least expect it."
He reminded, pouring himself another cup of tea, reluctant to observe Sebastian's furrowed brow in frustration, restless after having sent a letter to Julianne several days prior without a reply.
"How could I? When he vowed to pen me a reply—
-Did he? REALLY?"
Keith interjected, his tone laced with incredulity, cutting off Sebastian just as he was about to voice his frustrations.
The air between them suddenly crackled with tension as Sebastian's lips quivered, ready to rumble forth more words.
"Well... AHEM! Isn't it the same as saying that I could send a letter to him?!"
His voice wavered with uncertainty, tinged with anxiety, much like the letter he had penned to Julianne, which he had rewritten multiple times.
"Ha!"
An exasperated sigh escaped Keith's lips as he set down the elegant porcelain teacup, embellished with intricate gold filigree and a rich sapphire glaze, onto the polished mahogany table.
"You know, I just overheard on my way here that a group of young priests has been summoned to the palace."
After hearing it, the pen in Sebastian's hand shattered, splintering into pieces as he leapt to his feet. The sudden movement sent a chaotic storm of papers—detailed scrolls and hastily scribbled notes—flying off the table, fluttering through the air like startled birds before landing in a disheveled heap on the floor.
"I just recalled that I have an appointment at the palace!"
Sebastian declared, straightening his posture with an air of urgency.
Without a moment's hesitation, he dashed toward the door, oblivious to the fact that it was merely a fabrication spun from Keith's lips—a deceit intended to entrap him.
A smirk then formed on Keith's face, as he had not anticipated that Sebastian would so readily fall into his trap.
"So, where in the palace have the young priests been summoned?"
Sebastian inquired, pausing in front of the door but instead of receiving a reply, he was met with the hostile glare of Keith, followed by a word that nearly left his jaw hanging in disbelief.
"So it was PRIEST JULIANNE whom you've been admiring. HUH?!"
Keith exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as a shadow flickered across his face, leaving Sebastian momentarily speechless. His brow furrowed in confusion as he grappled with the sinister look that had settled over him.
"Wait, how did you—
-I'm smarter than you think, milord!"
Keith mocked, an eerie smile carving its way across his face.
"Oh! And there was no such thing as a group of priests visiting the palace. I HOPE you have FUN PLAYING HERE."
As he mockingly stated it, Keith swiftly slammed the door shut, loudly echoing through the hall like a sudden thunderclap, leaving Sebastian standing frozen as a wave of shock washed over him while he processed the whole situation.
"HA! You got me there!"
Sebastian then left, amusement dancing in his eyes as he strolled through the halls, when his gaze landed on the butler, impeccably dressed in a crisp black suit and a silver waistcoat, walking gracefully while balancing a polished silver tray piled high with an array of letters.
"Mister Caszlo!"
He called, his voice grim and solemn, a stark contrast to the playful, burbling clumsiness he had displayed in front of his friend Keith.
"Is there a letter addressed to me?"
Sebastian asked as the butler bowed graciously, presenting a plain envelope that bore no indication of its author. But as soon as he grasped it, an unsettling familiarity washed over him, tightening around his chest like a vice and stirring memories of Julianne, whom he had longed to see.
"Have a great day, milord."
Composedly stated by the butler as Sebastian walked out of the scene, only to encounter the duke, whose expression was beyond description.
"I've noticed that you've been going to the temple more frequently."
His voice dripped with arrogance, creating a suffocating tension in the hall that made Sebastian clench his jaw as he replied in a coarse tone, pausing as a sardonic smile crept across his face just before he turned his head to his father, the duke, with an eyebrow raised in mockery.
"WHY? Do you hate it that much that I'M TRYING TO GET CLOSER TO GOD?"
His scornful reply caught the duke off guard, momentarily freezing him before laughter erupted from his lips, a sharp sound that echoed in the tense air, as if Sebastian had just cracked a foolish and unseemly joke.
"Ha—FOOL! Don't invoke God's name for your nonsense!"
Duke Rosmound warned, a flicker of disdain coursing through his eyes.
"You might find yourself punished for it!"
After the duke left a crisp, acidic remark directed at Sebastian, he passed him by as if walking through the air, leaving Sebastian with a darkened expression upon his face. Yet, as he retreated to his chamber, his eyes suddenly sparkled with light as he carefully held the letter in his hand.
"Even his handwriting is beautiful…"
He thought, staring at the eleven-words letter written on the vast sheet of paper.
Dear Your Lordship,
I look forward to our meeting at five o'clock this evening...
He then affectionately touched the paper with his lips as a familiar scene enveloped him, as if Julianne himself were caressing his face, like a warm embrace that brought comfort to his troubled soul.
"If loving you was a sin, then I'll gladly take God's punishment with open arms…"
Sebastian whispered to the air as he carefully placed the letter on the luxurious jewelry box, disregarding the jeweled contents as if they were worth nothing more than the letter Julianne had written himself, before locking it away in the drawer.
******
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