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"I expect it to be a dull affair, really." Ruxton said as he straightened his tie.
"These things usually are, darling," Laica smiled fondly and brushed a bit of fluff from his shoulder. "But there's the polo match this afternoon and that should be fun."
"True!" Her husband brightened and Laica felt a cozy sort of fondness toward him. "You always look in the bright side." He offered her his arm and led her into the foyer of the art museum.
"Maker only knows why Regina insisted on having the reception here," Laica said under her breath as she handed her hat and coat to the footman. "All this marble makes for wretched acoustics."
Ruxton shrugged disinterestedly and accepted a drink. "It's ostentatious."
They both glanced around the reception, sipping their drinks and looking for anybody worth having a conversation with. Laica caught a glimpse of the two of them in a mirror panel. Her, tall and lean as ever in a stylish but subdued spring frock and him in the same sort of well-tailored suit he always wore. She should have worn flats, she knew. She towered over Ruxton when she wore heels but sometimes she couldn't help it. They always made her feel so glamorous. And the closer she got to fifty the more she longed to feel glamorous again.
She looked back at her husband for a moment as he was distracted by a plate of canapes. His temples touched with grey, his beard neatly trimmed. A good man, dependable and kind. Occasionally prone to stuffiness, but that was to be expected. A sensible father. "Ah!" he said, nodding at somebody toward the back of the hall. "It appears Dumar decided to join us after all. If you would excuse me, my love, I have some very boring building permits to discuss with him." He wiped his mouth with a napkin and kissed her on the cheek before wandering off.
Laica glanced around again, looking for Lady de Launcet so she could go through the motions of thanking her for the invitation when she realized that somebody was watching her from above.
For a moment, she tried to convince herself that it wasn't really him. That there was anybody else with eyes that burned into hers like blue holy flame. But his hand tightened on the railing and she knew he was trying to convince himself of the same thing, that she was somebody else. That they hadn't managed to avoid each other for all these years only to be outmaneuvered by Regina de Launcet's spring reception.
And as for the demon herself, Regina was speaking to him now. Refusing to change her plans, and wanting to get both inevitable conversations over with as soon as possible, Laica just barely resisted the urge to knock back the rest of her mimosa and made her way up the grand staircase.
She steadfastly refused to glance at him to see if he was watching her. He was. She knew. She hoped he was at least being subtle about it, but she knew she couldn't count on that. Void take de Launcet. She's revelling in this.
Carefully producing her most gracious smile she approached them. "Regina, darling! The party is almost as lovely as you are."
Regina smiled sickeningly at her, her enjoyment of Laica's discomfort clear. "You think so? I was worried about the acoustics in here, but then I thought the watercolor exhibit was so lovely."
"It is! An inspired choice of venue. And, please," Laica started to turn away. "Don't let me interrupt. I just wanted to thank you for the invitation."
"Oh, no, stay, please!" Regina snaked her wretched arm around Laica's and held her fast. "Don't you recognize your old friend?"
Laica tilted her face and smiled politely at the man she knew with every inch of her skin and lied through her teeth. "Forgive me, Messere?"
He laughed and she sipped her drink. "Perhaps the years have not been as kind to me as they have to you, Lady Harimann." His voice was rougher with age, but the same gentle brogue that used to whisper filthy promises interspersed with love poetry while he made her scream his name.
"She's just teasing, aren't you Laica?" Regina chided. "You can't tell me that you of all people don't recognize Prince Sebastian."
"Oh!" Laica smiled again. "How foolish of me." She laughed lightly and finished her drink. "Maker, it's been ages."
"Twenty years, give or take." He smiled, his eyes never leaving hers. Damn his eyes. "Unless I'm misremembering."
"I'll just let you two catch up on old times. Duty calls!" Regina simpered and scurried off.
Laica accepted another mimosa and took a moment to take stock of him. He was still lean, and tall, and his hair was still perfect, though the auburn was sprinkled with grey. His skin had weathered, taken on a grayish hue. And the lines around his mouth were harsh, and his eyes cold. He sipped his drink.
"Isn't it a little early for whiskey?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Ah, so we've dropped the pretense at least." His smile was as cold as his eyes.
"You didn't answer my question."
He sipped pointedly. "You've managed to stay married to Ruxton. I feel as if I should congratulate you."
"You should." She said, lifting her chin. "He's a good man. And I always planned to just marry the once. Not all of us are going for a half-dozen."
"It's good to have goals," he said breezily, leaning against the railing. "That dress is lovely."
"Don't start."
"Am I not permitted to even compliment you?"
"No," she hissed, leaning closer so she could drop her voice and speak more freely. "No, you are not."
His eyes bored into her, burning through her clothing, her skin. "Such a change, my dear. I have memories of you granting me so many permissions."
"Sebastian, stop. Please." She closed her eyes, willing herself to breath slowly. She'd be damned if she let de Launcet see her break down. "Why are you doing this?"
He was quiet for a long time, and then she felt his hand on her wrist, his fingers tightening until she gasped softly in pain. "You didn't waste much time getting over it, did you?" He said low, anger thrumming in his voice.
"How dare you," she flared, keeping her own voice low. "How dare you. How long was I supposed to languish in spinsterhood after you dismissed me?"
He snorted. "We both know you never languished anywhere."
She opened her eyes to glare at him. "And you married that Bryland girl three months after I reclaimed my inheritance so how dare you question me."
"Don't worry," his lips curved in a cruel smile. "That one didn't last."
"You never contacted me. You never even tried."
He eyed her skeptically, his mouth still cruel as he finished his drink. "That's all I had to do, was it? Give you a buzz after you managed to dig up a title and all would be forgiven?"
She trembled, and tears blurred her vision. She looked up, willing them not to spill. "Yes."
"No." He accepted another drink from one of the servers. "No. I would never be forgiven."
"I would have forgiven you." She whispered. I would forgive you still. Just ask me.
He swallowed most of his drink. "I suppose we'll never know for sure, will we?" He glanced down. "Your husband is looking for you."
She took a breath and dabbed at her eyes with a cocktail napkin, her humiliation complete. "I should go to him." She tried to will herself to go back down the stairs.
"Are you faithful to him?" He didn't look at her, he kept watching Ruxton with a detached sort of bemusement.
"I am."
"Really?" He laughed a little. "No… Cullen or Lils or any of the rest of them?" He glanced at her.
She shook her head. "No. By the time I married it was… it was just Ruxton"
They watched Ruxton as he chatted amiably with some members of the chamber of commerce.
"Do you love him?"
She took a breath and let it out slowly. "He's a good man."
Sebastian laughed cruelly. "You really are master at answering the question without answering the question, my dear." He swallowed the rest of his drink. "Nobility suits you."
She wanted to touch his hand, to grab the third drink he was already reaching for and smash it, to dig her fingers into his hair and crush her lips to his and feel his hands on her again. Maker save me I still love him.
But she kept still. Her heart ached in her chest. He wouldn't look at her. He wouldn't ask her to forgive him. And he wouldn't stop drinking. "I have to go." She said quietly.
"So you do," he straightened and avoided her eye. "And I have more boring conversations to conduct. Perhaps we will meet again in another few decades."
"Until then, your highness." Laica curtsied and slowly made her way back down the stairs, and refused to look back.