Chapter Text
Yuna Hollander completely owned the little living room at home, she had seen and heard enough in the past season that she no longer knew if this was true.
— My dear Mr. Hollan, I may believe that I became a candidate for London, and even for France,— he says in a low whisper, —but I must confess that I can't believe you about what you are telling me.
— My dear, it´s authenticity that I am telling you. — The beloved Count of her heart, her be loved David, never became sarcastic with her; in thirty years of marriage, he never played with her feelings, even if it were a simple tease between them. There was no reason to do so, David was someone with a calm and peaceful heart, cultured and wise, just like his dear son; Shane. — A young man from Prussia came to my office yesterday-...
— Are you talking about Rozanov?!
David, in a complete bundle of nerves, spoke louder to his wife. — Don’t be inconvenient.
Yuna, in the middle of the room, finally sat on her beloved Rosie’s dear bench. — Sorry, my love.
David fell onto the large piece of furniture he always used in the mornings and approached his wife carelessly, dragging the heavy furniture across the floor. — This has me overwhelmed and bundle of nerves, — he admitted. — My dear friend is dying, he is suffering, and Irina is not by his side.
The woman frowned and disapproved. Mr. Grigori had remained in mourning for decades, and today was the day he would pass to the other side with his eternal young wife. With his eternal Irina. — What nonsense that she did, I can't believe what she did to those children, she simply abandoned them yo their fate
— Yuna...
His wife closed her lips and although a short distance separated them, and they were alone, she shyly passed her hand over his shoulders. — The second son of the Rozanov now asks me to stay temporarily in our county.
— And what did you tell him?
— That of course he can belong to our lands as long as he wishes, but I am concerned about his residence.
— Oh, for good, man! — She exclaimed with a now familiar grace. — Have you made such a fuss over this? Do you dare to interrupt my dear midday class for this misfortune?
— Don't laugh at me, Yuna!
— My dear Count— The aforementioned countess smiled at him as always, solving all his problems with a single glance. --, Are you worried about their residence? When you know we have plenty of rooms.
— You are the owner and lady of that house, you rule over your little kingdom, my lady, — In so many years of marriage, Yuna still ruled in his heart. — Does it bother you to share your beloved mansion?
— When we have so many rooms to spare, it wouldn't bother me. I hope that one day these rooms will be filled with your beloved offspring. — The topic of beloved grandchildren always pressed their hearts, and in fact, after so many years of marriage they still hadn't had grandchildren of their own. — I am tired of being a matchmaker, but I think you dear friend could take my place for a moment.
— This is what I wanted to tell you, my lady. — David felt nervous wanting to pronounce the following sentence. — Our dear guests belong to the pyramid of the genres.
In a county as small and modest as Darlython was, suitors were scarce, and young ladies in society ended up in the chairs when it came to seasonal balls, but that was both the fear and the reality for the Hollander household. Shane, the only son of the counts, survived in society thanks to the dances and gatherings held at home, as he did not find it favorable to go to clubs, to opera, or casinos; those places filled with men in society only irritated him, besides that, due his condition, there were few public spaces where he was seen. He casually frequented libraries, searching for books on business and history, and regularly—thanks to a plea from his mother—played field games, whether hunting or polo, dominated the meadows, and had the other young men and experts eating out of his hand.
In the eyes of society, he was the pinnacle of masculinity and perfection; he was reserved and shy at dances, so much so that more than one mother would come with her daughter in her arms to beg him for a dance. Lord Shane would agree politely, dance, and answer every question the young girls asked with courtesy. But he never indulged in flirtin
On the other hand, the small county was a refuge for Lady Rosie Landry, who, although she visited the Hollander house for short periods, was a comfort after the awkward dances everyone had with Mr. Hollander. Rosie was the ideal candidate, the same pearl that dazzled Darlython; educated, with refined manners, beautiful, innocent, eloquent, cultured, talented in singing, piano and embroidery, although drawing always ended up defeating her, in addition to being a good prospect, with a high dowry thanks to her beloved uncles. There came a moment in her firt season in society when everyone believed she would end up being the future countess.
There came a moment in her first season in society when everyone believed she would end being the future countess, since being distant cousins and childhood companions, she was the target of much speculation. But by the end of the season and the beginning of autumn, that same gust of curiosity took a back seat, to be filled with new rumors each social season. The third season was beginning to reach the servants' gossip, eagerly awaiting the visit of the dressmakers and new guests; all of this was a delight of emotions and anxious nerves, until at the beginning of winter, a telegram arrived.
As was said among merchants, the next king of Prussia would ascend to the throne, bidding farewell to his majesty and the consort empress, there was no particular reason, other than a vague inclination to the king's health problems, which over time, began to get lost along the way, talking about things of the past and reaching the gardens in just his nightclothes.
The dear king was an intimate friend of Count Hollander, their connection was strange, but even more unusual was the way they continued to stay in touch. It did not take long for his father to sink into a melancholic sadness while being consoled by his only mother, giving him special support in the farewell of his friend.
His father wanted to order the construction of a palace for his guest, or to tell Her Majesty the Queen to host them this season, but the dear king refused —although his father always doubted his decision because of his mental health—, and he would be sheltered at the beginning of spring with his youngest son and his closest cousin.
Everyone had gone mad, persistent in having everything ready even during waiting days, and in keeping the house so clean that dust would be a sacrilege for that home; they awaited them eagerly, and it was no wonder. Near the expected date, his father sent several lackeys to carry out construction work, aiming to rebuild an old stable far from the estate and a small little lounge for Rozanov's servants.
Shane was bored with life in society; his health prevented him from attending dances, and most of the time during games, he felt absolute discomfort and anger within himself, besides being governed by boredom, because the pole eventually became boring thanks to his skills. There were no more rivals in Darlython; the few who reached the level to compete with him ended up defeated in a game, whether it was cards or on the field, he won without remorse. Meanwhile, London, his lordship introduced him to good players, excellent in his opinion, but arrogance seeped through their veins and they lost large amounts of money due to the bets they made.
They wanted to possess him, whether men or women, they ventured to find an imperfection, just like with his adored cousin. White pearls are never perfect, unless they are a counterfeit, and the same applies to young people. — Hurry up, Shane! — Lady Laudry impatiently called out to her older cousin throughout the house, searching for him among all the servants.
Finally, the day had arrived, the beloved day when the Rozanovs would come home, and it unleashed endless passions. It was no exception that Rosie was also excited about Ilya's arrival; on the contrary, it was predictable after going through the old attic, where they found paintings of their guests. — It is not proper for a lady to seek out a man to help him with his corset. — Social norms dictated very clear things, and they were even stricter thanks to the secondary genders.
The woman turned around and handed over from that position the slats that hung from her back. — And it is not proper for a gentleman to contradict his dear sister.
— Cousin, Rose. — Shane reprimanded her with his soft voice. — Or tell me, would you do this with Mr. Ilya?
Since they looked together at Ilya's portrait, Rose was captivated by her smile, which, although tender and small, could do nothing but make her cousin sigh deeply. The painting was from a few years ago, when the two were far from Darlython; Shane went to Oxford to study business and Rosie was in her hometown training for her first season as a suitor.
— Since when do you make such indecent comments? — Said Rosie with a tender smile.
— I have started trying to have a better sense of humor. — When she finished the corset knot, she made a small bow at the back, creating a double knot. There were maids who knew the art of ropes, knots, and strength, but Rosie, since she was young, always persuaded him to take care of those filthy details. — At the previous dance, more than one young woman who danced with fell asleep.
Her comment earned a laugh from the young woman, full of joy and happiness. — It’s because your voice is so melodious that it’s like a lullaby, dear.
When she finished her task, she ended up going to a bench near the piano, and began to gent stroke the keys above. — I speak very little and dance very well, I have very agile feet.
Although she didn't care for dancing, it was a blow to her pride to see a young woman sleeping after she had danced with her.
Rosie added the final layer, and made an elegant twirl with the dress. — So, your leaps are a hugs, and your dance is equal to the scores of a pianoforte. — Rosie always had an eloquent and condescending comment for everyone, whether men or women, she wholeheartedly comforted pilgrims and embraced lepers.
He began to play some soft and gentle notes, filling the room with comfort. With a sweet touch of lemon and honey, the hall began to fill.
The deep and sweet aroma gave way to an air of passions, with a touch of sadness. Laudry finished some final touches in front of a mirror and put on her opera gloves, over her elbow —How rude, and how thoughtless that girl was to let you go.
— I can say that more than displeased, she was happy to finish our dance. — The song had vague inclination towards melancholy.
— Shane— called the woman. — I’ll fix that collar for you, come here. — Lord Shane approache And lowered himself to Rosie’s level, allowing her more accessibility. — You are a perfect gentleman, fulfilling all the qualities a woman could want, or a young gentlema
Shane rolled his eyes with a smile when he mentioned the last part. — Are you also trying to improve your mood?, or why that comment? — The collar of the shirt fell delicately, and a short ribbon was arranged in a bow in the front. — Unfortunately, I do not possess the desired genetic rank in this academy.
The woman's face wrinkled upon seeing the major's expression. She left his neck alone and carefully adjusted the jacket, running her fingers over the buttons. — Shane, it doesn’t matter who it is, or what gender they have. I know you will find a fruitful relationship, with everything you heart desires.
— I have appeared in society, I work in my father’s businesses, and although I prefer to be called alpha, I have not presented myself as one... Love is something I wish for you to obtain; I prefer professional relationships. — In a soft murmur, he began to enumerate the problems, being monotonous and already aware of the situation. — This is tight, loosen it a bit.
Rose sighed, tired of that situation, since there should have been at least three more attempts for Shane to be satisfied with the strength of the knot. — Maybe you are a little behind, but it common in young people.
He shook his head. — That standard is ideal for men who are just going to appear in society, I have had four past seasons. I can perceive pheromones and, according to your judgment, also transmit them.
Knowing him, she placed two fingers behind his nape and began the knot again. His little ritu was coming to an end, and the comfort of Hollander was beginning. The sensitivity of his skin and the way he gets overwhelmed in the midst of society only gave rise to a thought.
Without fear, she observed his face and — Shane, I have had the theory that you could be considered equal to us…
— I don't think I possess the qualities of an omega, and biologically I don't have the properties either. — He refused again, but now with more force.
— We are all different. — He justifie
Shane's gaze settled on his beloved cousin, and a flash in his eyes that was unrecognizab appeared — No. It's not like that.
A few knocks on the door relocated them, reminding them where they were. — My lord, your father says the carriage is approaching!
Few had been blessed with the opportunity to smell Rosie, and although he was family, he never believed himself to be one of those fans. He could smell her scent with complete accuracy, fill with joy and ecstasy, excited and happy for Ilya.
A scent of honey and roses overwhelmed him, with a soft and tender base. — Come on, Shane!
He followed the young woman behind him, who leapt gracefully on each step, descending quickly, until the last steps, where she hid her excitement. And she began to descend with grace and elegance.
Shane just smiled at her and offered his arm courteously.
At the entrance, near the gardens, he found a carriage, drawn by majestic jet-black horses, and with golden and white decoration, worthy of royalty and wealth. Fine to the discerning eye, and delicate to the expert. — Your Majesty, I am glad to have you in my humble home — said his father.
— David! — The former king looked like... All kings, with a good face, and although one could notice a flash of sorrow, he still maintains a good face. — Don't be modest, call me by my name, we are friends.
His father helped his friend down, and after that, a young woman carefully descended.
— Grigori, I hope you remember my wife, and my son, I also introduce to you my beloved niece, whom Yuna is her teacher.
The servants helped the others down; the other people in the carts were part of their servitude and previously planned luggage. In addition to His Majesty, King Grigori, they met Lady Svetlana Vetrova, daughter of Sergei Vetrova, a colonel in the armed forces in Prussia.After getting down, the young woman looked at those present with a slight smile. — Lady Svetlana, a friend of my youngest son, is like a daughter to us; Irina is very fond of her. She doesn’t know much English, you must excuse her.
It only took a smile for Rosie to immediately connect with them, they considered Miss Vetrova a friend. As Rosie and Yuna went to the small lounge, they overheard them. — I will teach you the essentials, at the next dance we can practice.
The last to come down was Grigori's second son. — My son, Ilya. He is Irina's favorite one.
The name of the former queen only caused discomfort and a flash of displeasure on the countess's face.
— Father.— The prince protested.
— Excuse me, your Highness.
A few short laughs filled the air, breaking the tension that had been before
Finally, he deigned to lift his face to see the second prince. His face was just like that portrait, he had light eyes and hair like gold, wheat, and the sun, he had fair skin and covered in freckles like stars in the sky. — Father. — The last detail to observe was his eyes, which he found looking at him, and they collided together in that battle of fleeting glances.
It was then that his eyes did not stop, the tie was heavier and tighter, his hands sweated as they clashed together, and the smell dof lemon intensified.
Apparently, no one noticed this more than him.
— Let's go in, catch our breath, catch up, and have dinner together. — David, as the host, began to lead the evening.
He swallowed hard as he saw his father leave, but the prince was still there. — Mr. Hollander, I appreciate your hospitality.
He approached cautiously. — Speak English very well, Prince Ilya.
— Thank you, it's the only sentence that I learn. — A small smile lit up her face, and although it wasn't sincere and leaned more toward courtesy, it was strangely pleasant to look at.
Standing in front of her, he extended his hand and sought a greeting. — Shane Hollander.
It was accepted, and a firm handshake reached his fingers. — Ilya Rozanov Grigoryevich, third.
— Third?
— My mom liked traditions.
Irina, the fleeting queen. Just saying her name caused the prince an indescribable discomfort. He avoided the subject and let go of her hand. Once separated, he copied his father's behavior and, like a good host, indicated the entrance to the prince. — I will show you the house in a moment. Let's go, you must be exhausted.
The prince entered cautiously, and observed the entrance before crossing the door. — Thank you, Hollander.
A flash of fleeting curiosity flooded him as he observed, but besides genuine uniqueness, there was desire, a deep desire for excitement.