Chapter 66
"Excuse me, my lady. May I have a moment?"
Someone called out to me as I wandered dazedly in the corner of the banquet hall.
A servant?
It was one of the servants carrying trays of drinks. They usually didn't approach unless asked first, so I responded politely out of curiosity.
"No bother at all. What is it?"
"Ahem, well, um..."
The servant hesitated. Now that I looked closely, both his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.
I waited to see what he wanted to say, and after a long moment of awkward fumbling with a mortified expression, he picked up a glass from his tray and handed it to me.
I accepted it in a daze.
...Absinthe?
I frowned at the fluorescent green liquid sloshing in the clear glass.
Banquet halls typically served champagne, wine, sparkling water, or plain water. Anything else had to be specially requested from the servants.
"Uh... thanks?"
I took a tentative sip of the absinthe and gave the servant a puzzled look. He pointed vaguely to a spot a short distance away and shouted,
"It's from that gentleman over there!"
"Pfft."
Laughter bubbled up, nearly making me spit out the absinthe in my mouth.
What the hell is this?
It was such a clichéd pickup line it bordered on comedy.
The sinking mood lifted a bit, and I giggled as I turned toward where the servant had pointed.
Leo.
I locked eyes with Leo, who sat in an empty chair in a quiet corner, his fluorescent green eyes gleaming. He held an absinthe glass of his own and winked at me playfully.
This guy's hilarious.
He'd gone to such lengths to summon me—it felt only right to oblige. I grinned and walked over to him.
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"We're alone. Do you have to be so formal, my lady?"
I plopped down across from him, maintaining decorum since this was our first official meeting, but he furrowed his brow and stopped me.
I smirked at his grumpy expression, relaxed into my seat, and took a sip of absinthe.
"Fine, Leo. Why'd you send the drink?"
"You looked like you could use one?"
His mischievous grin drew a laugh from me. I pressed my throbbing temples and fixed him with a steady gaze. My sharp eyes curved playfully.
Even if it was the past, Leo and I had shared time together—he was good at reading my emotions. Facing him felt like staring at the boy from my childhood, stirring a bit of mischief in me.
"What's your king like? He sent weapons as a gift—unique choice."
"Cough."
Leo, mid-sip, let out a small choking sound. His pupils flickered briefly before steadying. Anyone else might think he'd just swallowed wrong, but I could clearly see his fluster.
"Alessandro... the First, right?"
"Yeah."
Hesitation clouded Leo's face. It must have been awkward suddenly praising himself like this. I savored his subtle discomfort while downing more absinthe.
"Not as strong as you, but pretty tough. A Sword Expert."
"Hmph."
"...And he's got money. Being king and all."
"And?"
I held back a laugh as he stammered through compliments. He clearly didn't want to look bad compared to his other self.
"...What kind of person do you like?"
After agonizing, Leo turned the question on me. I hadn't thought about it much, so I pondered before answering slowly.
"Probably someone kind."
"...Kind?"
Leo's face paled. His eyes shook as he blurted,
"Just kind? What about strength or wealth?"
I smiled confidently at his question.
"I'm strong enough myself. And I've got money. Why need more?"
Leo shut his mouth, speechless. He tried to play it cool, but he looked downright dejected as he muttered softly,
"...Does your idea of 'kind' include not killing people?"
"Preferably someone who doesn't, yeah."
His face grew even gloomier. I barely suppressed a laugh and slipped in,
"Oh, and handsome helps."
Leo's face lit up. He sighed in relief and grinned.
"Then you'd like the king of Atara."
His sharp eyes crinkled with delight.
"He's handsome."
Leo looked angelic, like he'd just fallen from heaven, so I couldn't argue.
Grown into a sly fox, huh.
The hot-tempered kid who'd bristled at my every word was gone. I felt a pang of nostalgia but couldn't look away from this poised Leo steering the mood.
"By the way."
He leaned back lazily in his chair, gazing at me, then shifted his eyes to my forehead. His expression hardened as he leaned forward abruptly, bringing his face close.
His lips twisted chillingly.
"What's your deal with that yellow-eyed punk you were just with?"
The yellow-eyed one could only be Rainer. I narrowed my eyes at Leo calling the viscount "punk."
"He's not a punk. He's Viscount Rainer Ainheart..."
"I know who he is."
Leo's eyes blazed like flames as he spat the words. He tilted his head inches from my face, his curved eyes dripping with boiling intensity.
"Why'd you let that punk get in your face?"
I blinked at his question. I'd allowed it thinking it was just checking for fever at first. Friends could touch foreheads, right?
"Because he's a friend. I let you do it too, since you're a friend."
My casual tone made Leo's face freeze instantly.
"Damn friend..."
He looked on the verge of madness, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly as if to speak, then ruffled his hair wildly and slammed his forehead against the chair back.
"Argh! So annoying! Ack! This is infuriating!"
Is he insane...?
Leo banged his head like a lunatic until his forehead turned red. I glanced around—thankfully, the area was deserted.
"Stop it. You'll hurt yourself."
He showed no sign of stopping, so I sighed, leaned over, and wedged my hand between him and the chair back. Only then did he halt.
"...Shh."
He whipped his head toward me, bringing his face close again. His eyes rippled with indescribable turmoil before squeezing shut.
Thud.
He tilted his head, our foreheads touching. His light brown hair tickled my eyelids, and I closed mine too.
Amid the vibrating lemon scent, he sighed.
"We're friends, so this is okay, right?"
"Anytime you want."
I answered nonchalantly. I was generous with those in my circle. I didn't mind skinship much, so forehead bumps were fine whenever Leo wanted.
His lips twisted—he clearly wasn't satisfied.
"What if."
His delicate lashes rose slowly, his transparent green eyes fixing on me. Desire. Anger. Thirst. A witch's cauldron of emotions bubbled fiercely.
"What if I wanted something more?"
His deep voice whispered with his breath. Leo narrowed his eyes. As our foreheads touched, he tilted slightly, his blood-red lips nearing mine.
Absinthe wafted from his glossy red lips.
He wants confirmation he's closer than Rainer.
Sadly, Leo still seemed too young to me. With his face so close, I smiled smugly. Maybe he kept distance by not calling me "sis," but he still followed me closely.
Seeing my smile, Leo's brow twitched violently.
"Of course."
I lifted my chin slightly, lips hovering before his forehead, then slowly lowered them in a kiss.
A forehead kiss meant friendship.
He shuddered hard.
I pulled back and added to his near-panic state,
"If you want more, I'll allow it."
Our eyes met, gazes exchanged. I stared into his shaken pupils, smiling with affection.
Fluorescent pink eyes met fluorescent green. For a moment, I thought our glowing eyes resembled each other.
But what they held was worlds apart.
"...Ha."
Leo stared blankly before exhaling. He turned away and slammed his forehead into the chair back harder.
"Argh! Aargh! Aaaargh! Ack! Hngh!"
He screamed, headbanging like he was testing if the chair or his skull would break first.
What's his deal? Wasn't this the answer he wanted?
I frowned at his inexplicable outburst. His yelling might draw people, so I grabbed his shoulders and clamped a hand over his mouth.
News of Atara's envoy being a madman wouldn't help anyone. His soft lips pressed against my callused palm before he finally stopped.
"You okay? Should I call a doctor?"
Worried he might be losing it, I gripped his shoulders.
Leo stared dazedly, then buried his face in his hands and bowed his head. His reddened ear tips were visible.
He made bizarre noises before mumbling,
"I... hate you so much."
Puberty hitting hard?
Why this now? I waited silently as he made more weird sounds. Finally, he lifted his face, twisted in anguish, cheeks damp with tears.
"But I still like you so much."
His low voice carried resignation. Misery etched his contradictory words.
I meant to speak but stopped—his face was too heartbreaking. Staring into his eyes brimming with overwhelming emotions, I just patted his back.
"You're mercilessly kind..."
His gruff growl was rough. Face buried in one hand, he sighed deeply. Absinthe mingled with the drifting scent.
He's drunk.
I was sure of it. If this was his drunken behavior, it made sense.
I patted his back a few more times. As long as he didn't vomit on my lap, I could handle any antics.
"Still, I'm the first guy whose forehead touched yours, right?"
His subdued voice held faint desperation. The mood screamed murder if I denied it—and it was true—so I nodded.
"Yeah. You got my first."
I affirmed softly.
Leo flinched hard and whipped his face up from his hands.
"Wha...?"
He gaped at me, a million question marks on his face.
"Why say it like that?"
"Did I say it wrong?"
"No, why... why so thrilling... Do you talk like that to others?"
I blinked at his sudden outburst.
"Only to you."
Almost no one got this casual with me like Leo did. My words set him ablaze like dry straw—his face flushed crimson, expression screaming he wanted to die.
"Why do this to me... I won't sleep tonight..."
He mumbled and thunked his forehead on my shoulder.
Seeing him, I was certain.
Definitely drunk.
Flushed face. Self-harm no sober person would do. Mood swings. Leaning unsteadily.
Love? No way. He was just wasted.
Stuck cleaning up after a drunk, my head throbbed, but he was pitiful, so I'd look after him. As I propped his dazed self against the chair and rose to fetch water,
"Long time no see, my lady."
A familiar voice called. I turned slowly.
"His Holiness the Pope requests your presence."
Pale purple eyes curved lazily. It was High Priest Julian.