The Perils of Love and Courtship

Chapter 14

The main hall of Blackmore Estate is buzzing with energy by the time Lambert makes his way down from the upper floor. Decorated in shades of blue and white; with flower arrangements, silk banners, and ice sculptures dotting the interior, the room shares equal parts serenity and intrigue. Droves of finally dressed members of the nobility fill the space, some standing around to socialize, others making their way towards the ballroom where a sweeping melody can be heard rising above the noise.

Jaskier left him a few minutes prior to go and meet up with Geralt, leaving Lambert alone and feeling rather hesitant to immerse himself into a crowd of people that he'd rather avoid. Instead, he stands at the banister of the main staircase and scans the room, looking for signs of Aiden or any of his family members that he can latch onto so as to appear too busy to socialize with anyone else that may approach him.

Then suddenly, at the far end of the room for a fraction of a second, Lambert spots a head of dark curly hair among the crowd, moving in the direction of the ballroom. He'd know that head of hair anywhere. He all but runs down the stairs, eyes scanning the people around him as he looks for where Aiden disappeared into the crowd. He's so busy looking, in fact, that he walks right into someone.

Lambert lets out a deep "oof" as he smacks into a figure from behind a nearly topples over.

"My-my apologies," he stammers as the man grabs him by the shoulders to steady him, except when he looks up to see who it is, he feels himself churning with displeasure.

"None needed, Mr. Rochefort," Lord Pembroke says slowly, giving him a polite but oily smile as he looks the omega up and down in a way that makes Lambert want to crawl out of his skin. "But you should watch where you're going. Next time I might not be there to catch you..."

The smooth way in which he talks makes Lambert shiver with discomfort. It was always one of the reasons why he never trusted that man. A man like Pembroke gets what he wants, and Lambert is sure he never quite got over his offense when the omega rejected his advances. That teacup thrown at his head was rightly earned.

"Thank you," Lambert replies, tightly, "but I'll take my chances. Now, if you'll excuse me, my lord--" he scans the room in desperation and mercifully locates his father standing near one of the ice sculptures-- "my father, he summons me." And with that the omega quickly ducks away from him and makes a beeline towards his father.

The Duke almost does a double take as Lambert approaches him, eyes looking him up and down, the shock apparent on his face. "Lambert. I almost didn't recognize you."

Heat rises in Lambert's cheeks as he remembers what he's wearing and how different he must look. "It was Jaskier's idea," he says defensively, feeling as though he must somehow justify his appearance. "It's strange, right? But it made him happy and you know how difficult it is to say 'no' to that man."

Vesemir shakes his head. "When the boy asked for the money to have something tailored for you, I have to admit I was not expecting you to actually wear it."

"So this wasn't another one of your schemes?" Lambert asks, an eyebrow raised. "I figured the two of you might be involved."

"Far from it. This one was all Jaskier. And from the looks of it I'd say the boy has really outdone himself." The old man's face softens as he offers Lambert a comforting smile. "You look lovely, son."

In truth, Lambert feels lovely, though a part of him is terrified to admit it. It doesn't seem like something he should be allowed to feel. And while he may not feel awkward and foolish in these clothes, he's concerned about how people will react to seeing him looking so different from the reputation he has so carefully crafted over these years.