Leo's POV:
When I heard about my Uncle's death. I had just finished another meeting and was due to attend several other obligations.
I had my secretary cancel and reorganize everything to resume the next day.
I spent my time in my office, once it was locked; I allowed myself to sit down on the couch and take a deep breath, but still I felt a throbbing pain somewhere and realize that my fists were clench tight.
He was gone.
The phone email I received from Valentine had a picture snippet of my Uncle's body and his signet ring.
I allowed myself to mourn him because I was not by his side.
I remember doing this for an hour.
The was the first time I cried in years.
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"Ah Leone. I heard it too. I am sorry man." Charles sat beside him in his office couch. "According to Val, the Illyrian Embassy will confirm the duke's death to the Royal Palace in a week after they manage to prepare his body for transport."
My cousin had visited me and took one look at me before he also sat down to mourn our Uncle.
"Did Valentine know the cause of death?" I asked.
"He will send a report on that but I can help you find out about it now if you want?"
"Do it. I want every information about his death by tonight." I said. " I want all the information to go to me before my father gets wind of it."
"Understood."
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That night, Charles came to my home and I met him at the pool where I had been doing some laps to take the edge off the day's stress.
It was grueling day at work and the palace affairs had me busy so I had to swim to relax my battered body, Blotting the wetness from my neck as I got out of the pool, I sat on one of the tables that are scattered around the pool.
"It says here he died saving someone. But according to Val; he was already weakening because of his long exile." he reported as he sat on one of the tables and handed him the files he collected.
After drying myself and sitting beside Charles, I pulled off the documents and examined a copy of my Uncle's medical records.
Then I saw a few other photos and a file of a woman.
I suddenly became uneasy as I examined a picture of a small woman whose eyes were wrapped in bandages and is bedridden. Her black wavy hair was braided and she seemed to be restrained.
My eyes narrowed at her bandaged face as a prickly sensation went up my neck in shocking intervals. Who is she?
"That is Sarina Larusso. 25 years old, she is a nurse at Hope Nursing Home and is said to be the closest person to Henry." Charles said. "It seems like your Uncle really loved her because even though he knew he was dying, he gave her his corneas. Val told me that she had a progressing eye condition that could have blinded her if she didn't get operated on."
"This woman has my uncle's eyes?" I frowned then he looked at her again, a strange feeling kept poking at me like a hundred needles. "Does she know what the consequences of accepting my uncle's eyes mean?"
"Apparently not because after she went crazy when she heard of Henry's death, to prevent from aggravating her further; the doctor refused to let Val reveal anything that will stress her for the next 6 months."
"Have Val report anything about the woman to me. I want her watched."
"Very well." Charles nodded. " By the way, he left this for you."
I eyed the signet ring. It was the final evidence that made me accept that my beloved Uncle was really gone. I slipped the ring on the third finger of my left hand.
"What will you do now?"
"I will find out more about the woman who befriended my uncle, somehow I cannot shake the feeling that I have to keep an eye on her."
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The next 5 months passed by like a blur for me but the news of my Uncle's death has affected the whole country.
Some were saddened because they knew how much the people loved him. He was always good with the common masses since his businesses employs local country folks, therefore many of the farmers and workers held their own burial ceremony for the duke.
Most of the elite society were divided on their opinions, some were sympathetic because the duke died alone in a foreign country but the others were waiting for what their sovereign will make of his brother's death.
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I attended a press conference with my sister Catherine by my side, unlike me who inherited my father's dark looks; she was blessed with my mother's fair skin, but her pale blond hair and angled green eyes were marks of a Lyonel.
She was also saddened by our Uncle's passing but made no show of emotions as we sat in front of the media press conference that was being held in the Royal Palace's entrance.
It was jam packed and security was tighter than usual. The podium where my father was is flanked by half a dozen guards armed with with guns.
I remained seated as my father addressed the death of his brother in a calm manner. He never offered any words that made me think that he regretted sending him away but moved to the fact that my uncle's official burial into the royal family cemetery will commence.
I fought myself from sneering at the King, who never displayed any remorse when my Uncle's body arrived months ago. As of right now, his remains were cremated and sat in a jar guarded heavily in one of the Palace's inner treasure chambers.
I suppose it would raise some sort of scandal if he does not give Uncle a proper burial.
As the crown prince, I also gave my opinions on my Uncle's passing and invited the media to attend as well.
"Your Highness, what about the duke's heir?" one of the reporters asked. "Will she also come to the burial?"
I felt my father and sister stiffen at the mention of uncle's "heir". I, however, expected this question to pop up.
"We will extend an invitation to her of course, but it is entirely up to her on whether she will attend or not." I bowed to them briefly, thereby signaling that I was done taking questions.
The reporters continued to ask more questions about my Uncle's heir but the security guards block them as I hopped off the podium.
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It took a full 2 hours to clear the media from the Palace grounds.
While the guards and palace staff clean the entrance, I and my sister were summoned by our father in the throne room.
"Who gave you permission to invite your Uncle's embarrassment to a sacred burial." the king's cold tone rang throughout the walls.
"It would raise more questions if she was not invited. Like it or not father, Uncle Henry has fulfilled the requirements of adoption before he died. As his heir, the girl must attend his burial." I reasoned with an equal amount of coldness.
Catherine's eyes darted from me to father.
Joram Lyonel, current King and sovereign of Illyria looked at me in a chilling and forbidding way.
He was a large man and as much as I hated to admit it. He and I share the same features.
Right now, he is sitting on his throne seat, his suit a somber attire of black with mute gold linings, his medals, and sovereign brooch were pinned on the sash he wore. He frowned at me, clearly displeased at my defiance.
"You grow too bold Leonidas. Your tendency to undermine my decisions is becoming irritating as of late," he said. "But your words have their merits. Have Valentine inform your Uncle's heir of the burial and if she chooses to accept then we will send a royal invitation."
I nodded but father pointed a finger at me.
"You will make sure that this commoner behaves, if she does anything to embarrass the royal family, I will lay the blame at your feet." he then leveled a look at my sister.
"Catherine, you will assist your brother in making sure the girl is trained in the art of royal etiquette and deportment the moment she arrives."
With those words, I and my sister bowed before our father and accepted the responsibility.
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Catherine and I took tea by the Palace Garden after our audience with our father, who retired to his room to rest.
"So we will be responsible for making sure she does not pick the wrong spoon for a course meal or break wind in public? Woohoo." my sister poured the tea as she spoke.
"Sister, it will only be for a while. Besides she may be different." I smiled at her sarcastic speech as I sipped the tea.
"Really? How are we sure she is not someone who smiles at you and then stabs your back when it is turned?" she raised an eyebrow.
"We can't. Time will tell. But from the reports I have gathered on her, she really seems to have really cared about our Uncle."
Catherine regarded me with an intense look.
"You seem awfully fixated on this girl, You even risked upsetting father just for her. I find it suspicious," she said.
I took a chocolate biscuit and ate it, ignoring my sister's baiting tone.
"You are imagining things Cat." I used the nickname I gave her ever since we were kids.
"Fine Leo." she finished her tea. " But I know something is going on and I will find out eventually. I always do."
"Biscuits?" I offered her a dark chocolate one, which she took in a huff.
For all her headstrong ways, Catherine has always been the closest to a female friend to me. She does not cuddle me even though she is my sister and she does not see me as perfect but neither does she pressures me to be something I am not.
To me. she is a sister, friend, and confidante.
After concluding our time together, she went to her room to prepare for a fashion party she was invited to.
She had invited me because several of the models were asking if I would come, I refused her because I still have a job to do at La Belle.
We then parted ways as I left the Royal Palace grounds.
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When I arrived back at the La Belle Tower, I threw myself headlong into work.
Somehow I became more of a workaholic than ever because my dream lady had stopped appearing to me ever since my Uncle died.
Somehow I felt like I lost two loved ones instead of just one. What makes it worst is that I cannot remember my dream lady's voice or remember her touch anymore, which made me desperate to remember all the times we shared in my dreams every day just so that she does not fade away like a ghost.
Somehow I felt abandoned because I need my lady more than ever but she just vanished.
Which was why I buried myself with work to avoid dealing with the loss.
At around midnight, I completed my file report on the success of our fashion line launch in Milan.
Charles was on the couch with his laptop when I saw him blink several times at something he saw on his screen.
"Hey Leone, you will not believe what I am seeing right now."
"What is it? Your voice sounds strange?" I asked as I stretched my back.
Charles stood up and showed me his laptop screen.
"This was just taken by Val a couple of days ago. I cannot believe my eyes."
It was a picture of Sarina, who seems to be in better shape and health, she seems to be eating a flan dessert when someone snapped the photo.
But what held me staring in shock were her eyes.
They were silver-gray.
Uncle's exact eye color made the woman look unnaturally exotic.
but what made alarm bells ring in my head was that smile, the playful tilt of her mouth as well as the softening of her gaze as she posed for the one taking the picture.
Memories of my dream lady flooded my head as my finger stroked the face on the picture.
"This changes everything, those eyes mark her as a true heiress to your Uncle's title...this incident has not happened in centuries." His friend looked again at the picture as if to check if this was photoshopped.
But I was not listening anymore, my body was trembling inwardly with anticipation as my heart pumped furiously against my ribs.
She is real and alive.
I finally found you. My lady.