"Next week?!" Artemesia almost spat out her tea. Thedosia's eyes were wide while Jonathan stared at his guests faces.
Rowan Blackridge smiled sheepishly, "Julian has gotten terribly impatient as of late."
His wife mirrored his expression, "The things we do for our kids. You can understand, right?"
"I… do, but I do not think you need to be this… indulgent."
Her smile got broader, "I think I myself know best on how to raise my children."
Jonathan was having a staredown with the Duke. Artemesia was sweating profusely.
"And," Mr. Blackridge added, not leaving Jonathan's eyes for a moment, "I feel this union will be at risk if you…fail to comply."
Jonathan stiffened.
This is exactly why the bastard Julian wasn't with them.
"I understand, but we would like some time to think it over."
They both smiled, "Of course, but please make sure to send word within this week, so we can start preparations timely."
. . .
Artemesia's mind was spinning.
Jonathan collapsed on the couch, cursing.
Thedosia was lost in thought, eyes distant.
"Next week? Are they bloody crazy?" he muttered, shaking his head.
"We have to negotiate, Mother."
Silence.
"Mother?"
She seemed to snap out of her thoughts, looking around, "Sorry, what?"
Jonathan's brow furrowed with concern, "Are you alright?"
She hesitated, "I'm… worried."
She glanced at her daughter, who was leaning against the doorframe and staring at the teapot on the coffee table in front of them.
"Tia, love?" she called.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Are you… really alright with this?"
She asked the question Artemesia was waiting for.
"I-..."
Jonathan was alerted immediately, "Tia? Are you not comfortable? We can negotiate with them if you're not ready."
She quickly shook her head, "No, no. Do not get on the Blackridges' bad side. They are an ally-"
"Artemesia." She flinched.
A moment passed in silence.
He spoke again, voice soft. "Please, please, think for yourself too."
She froze. "I-..."
Jonathan smiled softly, "We can stall for time if you're unsure."
The bags under his eyes seemed darker these days.
She remained still for a moment, but then sighed, nodding slowly, "I… need some time."
Jonathan got up, and held her shoulders, "Take as much as you need."
"...Thank you, John."
"No, thank you, Tia."
Behind them, Thedosia's lips subtly curled as well.
Excusing herself, Artemesia walked to her room. At first, her steps were light and calm, but grew faster and more urgent as she sprinted to her room.
She locked the door, and sat on the edge of her bed, breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry, John," she whispered, "but this has to be done."
The first landmine, after careful consideration, had officially been planted.
. . .
"Suitors…?" Leander repeated slowly.
The Empress nodded, "The idea is… uncomfortable. But I hope you understand where I'm coming from."
Leander was sitting on his bed, playing with a stray cat he found, before his Mother barged into his room and interrupted his peaceful time.
"And for the Lord's sake," she sighed, pinching her nosebridge, "Put that cat down. Who knows where it roamed? And now you're playing with it like a toy."
Leander rolled his eyes, "I bathed her, and no, I won't die just because I touched a cat I myself bathed."
Her eyes widened, and then narrowed, "You bathed it yourself? Do you have nothing better to do? You have attendants for a reason!" she scolded.
He groaned, "Please, Mother, I'm tired."
She sighed, "Fine. Rest, but you better be in my bedchamber this evening to complete this conversation."
After he waved her away, he held up his newly found pet.
"Hm.. what should we name you?" he stared at her fierce blue eyes.
And a bulb in his brain clicked.
"Skylar."
The cat purred, rubbing its snow white fur against his chest.
He chuckled, "You like it?"
He scratched her head and picked her up, holding her close to his face.
Suddenly, she jerked her little head forward and her nose tickled against Leander's lips.
His eyes widened.
"Uh oh," but then he laughed, "Taking my first kiss just like that?"
She meowed, which cracked another little chuckle out of her owner.
"It was reserved for someone else, you naughty little kitty."
. . .
"Julian, darling, don't be so impatient." Alice Blackridge sighed at her son.
"She's right, Prince," Rowan agreed, "If we push any more, they might not agree to the marriage at all."
But Julian was determined.
Ever since he heard that the Crown Prince was introduced in the cabinet meetings, he decided it would be best to push.
But, they were right too, in a sense. He didn't want to get married too fast.
His fight was not with the present generation. Not with Gregor Halycra, no. His hold on the throne was far too firm, as well as his allies, supporters and connections.
His fight was with the next generation of rulers. With Leander Halycra. Since he'd be succeeding soon, he'll probably take the throne as a rookie. No connections, no power.
Or so Julian thought.
If he's started to establish his place in High Society already, then time was his biggest enemy. He had to plan this just right. Not too late, not too early.
That's why he gave the Montclairs a week to decide. At most, he would be willing to negotiate a week more. That timespan wouldn't affect the timeline negatively.
Julian was sitting on the couch, thinking deeply, while Rowan handed Alice a glass of wine.
"Whatever are you thinking so deeply about?" Alice asked, frowning. "Is it the Montclairs? Don't be stressed, Mama's going to handle it just fine."
She smiled at her son. He returned it.
"I know you will, Mama."