By the time Claire finished her third glass of Old Man Yu's potent wine, her cheeks were flushed a deep red, and her usual composed demeanor had melted into carefree abandon the world around her felt a little softer, the voices less sharp, the weight of expectations momentarily lifting.
"Ah," she murmured, tilting her head as she studied the way the lantern light reflected in her drink. "Pretty."
Mae, standing beside her, chuckled. "Enjoying yourself?"
Claire turned, blinking at her. "This is good wine"
Mae gestured toward the older man sitting at the head of one of the banquet tables. "My dad sure knows how to save and preserve his wines."
Claire nodded thoughtfully. "A wise man."
Leon, who had been speaking with his dad continued to watch Claire "This is getting out of hand" he murmured watching her flushed face.
Old Man Yu chuckled, clearly amused. "Let her enjoy herself, boy. She's been composed and nervous since the party started" he told Leon, who decided to just watch for now.
When he saw Claire picking another glass and sipping it, His brows furrowed. She's drinking too much. He excused himself and strode toward her. "Claire—"
She turned to him, her eyes brighter than usual, a small smile playing at her lips. "Leon," she said, dragging out his name slightly. "You look very serious. Is something wrong?"
Leon exhaled. "You should slow down."
"Why?" she asked, genuinely curious. "It's a festival."
Before he could answer, she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "Besides… people are staring, aren't they? Trying to figure out who I am."
Leon's gaze flickered over the crowd before returning to her. "Does it bother you?"
Claire studied her half-filled glass before swirling the liquid absently. "I should be used to it, I know they'll only be nice if I'm around any of you."
Leon caught the almost imperceptible shift in her tone, but before he could press further, she set her drink down with sudden enthusiasm.
"I want to walk around." She turned to Mae, looping their arms together. "Mae, let's go explore!"
Mae laughed. "Alright, alright, but don't trip over your dress."
Leon watched as they wandered off, his jaw tightening. He knew that look in Claire's eyes—it was the kind of false bravado people put on when they didn't want to admit they were uncomfortable.
Claire was drunk, but not in the loud, reckless way some people were. She was softer, looser, her usual sharpness dulled by the alcohol. It made her more expressive, her thoughts spilling out in ways they normally wouldn't.
And that… worried him.
—
Claire wandered outside the garden with Mae, stopping every so often to admire the lanterns, to run her fingers over the delicate silk of decorative banners, or to poke at the intricate carvings on a stone lantern as if testing if they were real.
"Mae," she said suddenly, frowning at the lantern. "Why is it that when people see something beautiful, they assume it must belong to someone important?"
Mae raised a brow. "Are we talking about the lanterns… or you?"
Claire sighed, straightening up. "I don't know."
Before Mae could respond, a passing server offered Claire another drink. Without thinking, she took it, sipping as she turned to observe the gathering of guests.
Leon, standing near the entrance of the grand hall, was engaged in conversation, his usual air of authority making him the natural center of attention. Yet, even as he spoke, his eyes occasionally flickered toward her, watching.
Claire tilted her head slightly, her eyes meeting Leon's before she looked away.
Mae," she murmured. "Leon is too nice."
Mae, amused, glanced between them. "That's… an interesting complaint."
"No, really." Claire frowned, her thoughts swirling. "He's nice. Too nice."
Mae smirked. "Sounds like you have a problem."
"I do," Claire sighed. "Because…" She trailed off, staring into her drink as if it held all the answers.
As if trying to stop herself from saying further, she spotted a large potted plant and gasped. "Look at this! It's the most majestic plant I've ever seen!" She crouched down, patting the leaves like it was a pet. "I'll name you Gerald. You and I, Gerald, we're gonna be best friends."
Leon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked over to her and Mae laughed harder. "Claire, get up. You're embarrassing yourself."
"Embarrassing?" Claire stood, swaying slightly, and put her hands on her hips. "I am not embarrassing! I'm a queen!" She said pursing her lips at him.
Mae cheered in agreement, and she beamed triumphantly. Leon couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips despite his exasperation.
She suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him "Dance with me, husband!" she declared, her voice loud enough for everyone outside to hear causing Mae to leave them alone with a grin playing on her lips.
"Claire, I don't think—"
"No excuses!" she interrupted, spinning in place before attempting a clumsy twirl. "Come on, Leon. Just a little!"
To his surprise—and slight horror—she pulled him into a wobbly waltz, resting her head on his shoulder, Leon held her firmly by her waist while they interlocked their hands and swayed to the sound of the distant music coming from inside, both lost in their own world.
"You're awful at this," she teased, looking up at him with glassy eyes.
"You're drunk," he replied flatly, though the corner of his mouth twitched with suppressed amusement.
"And you're handsome," she blurted out, blinking up at him.
Leon's ears turned faintly red, but he didn't reply, focusing instead on keeping her upright.
She found herself staring back, the warmth in her chest deepening.
Her brows furrowed and somewhere in her drunken state, she knew what was happening wasn't good, she broke free from from Leon's arms.
"No" she muttered inaudibly.
Leon stared at Claire confused as to why she suddenly stop. "What's wrong" he asked worried.
Claire turned to look at him and for the first time he saw it—the raw sadness and vulnerability she tried to hide.
"This isn't right" she said taking a step back—and her foot caught on the edge of a step.
The world tilted.
Claire barely had time to process the fall before strong arms caught her. She instinctively leaned into Leon, gripping his sleeve. He caught her without hesitation, steadying her with a firm hand at her waist.
For a second, she just stood there, her drowsy gaze lifting to his. She blinked up, her head spinning slightly, and found herself staring directly into Leon's eyes.
For a moment, everything stilled.
Yhe festival lights cast a golden glow around them, reflecting in his dark eyes making his sharp features look almost softened, the firm grip of his arms steadying her. His scent—clean, with a faint hint of something familiar—wrapped around her.
Her lips parted slightly, her breath catching.
"Leon," she murmured, the alcohol loosening her tongue. "Stop being too nice."
Leon stiffened slightly. "Claire—"
She lifted a hand, fingers lightly brushing his collar. "It's not fair."
"What's not fair?" he asked quietly, his voice unusually gentle.
She blinked drowsily. "That you're like this. That you keep catching me. That you…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "That you make my heart skip a beat."
Leon felt his pulse quicken.
Claire's fingers curled slightly against his shirt, and she let out a soft, almost resigned laugh. "You should stop being so nice. If you keep this up… I won't be able to stop myself."
"Please" she continued, her eyelids drooping slightly as if the weight of her emotions was too much to bear. "My heart can't take it and I might fall for you"
Leon barely had time to process her words before she slumped against his chest, her body going limp as sleep overtook her.
A quiet hush seemed to settle around them as Leon stared down at the woman in his arms. Her warm breath fanned against his collarbone, her expression peaceful in sleep. For a moment, he was at a loss.
She looked so vulnerable like this—so different.
He stood there for a long moment, holding her in his arms as her words echoed in his mind.
I won't be able to stop myself.
His grip tightened slightly around her.
Claire… drunk, uninhibited Claire… had just revealed something she would never say sober.
And now, as he stared down at the sleeping woman in his arms, he couldn't ignore the strange, unfamiliar feeling settling deep in his chest.
He should take her inside, let her sleep it off.
But for a moment longer, just a moment, he allowed himself to hold her close—knowing that when morning came, she would pretend none of this had ever happened.
And maybe… he would let her.
For now.
Finally, Leon scooped her up, carrying her effortlessly through the festival crowd. People stole curious glances, but no one dared question him. He barely noticed them anyway. His mind was still replaying her words.
He placed Claire down on the bed and ordered the maids to clean her up and change her, once they were done, they bowed and left the room.
Leon exhaled slowly as he sat on the lampside watching her sleep, holding a glass of whiskey in his hands, he ran his fingers through his hair before harshly pulling at his tie then downing his glass of whiskey in one go, a strange heaviness settling in his chest.
Was she merely speaking nonsense in her drunken state? Or had her defenses slipped just enough to reveal something real?
He didn't know and right now, he didn't want to get his hopes too high.