Note: very short because Tapas' character limit so the rest of it is in a part 2

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"This is Remy Kolton, Viscount Kolton's eldest daughter."

The young lady curtseyed kindly but her yellow dress made Lincoln wish he was born color blind.

"Lycan!” His father yelled.

Oh, did I say that last part out loud? He questioned internally. As he looked at Lady Kolton, he noticed that she refused to make eye contact, a light pink dusting her cheeks. 

"I want you two to get to know each other-"

"For what reason?" 

The archduke’s face clouded over slightly but was quickly replaced by a smile as he turned to the young girl. “Lady Kolton, please excuse us for a moment.”

Remy Kolton nodded enthusiastically as she continued to fiddle with the ends of her skirts. The Archduke laid a firm hand on Lincoln’s shoulder and not-so-gently ushered him out of the sitting room and tossed him into the foyer, closing the door behind him. 

Lincoln observed his father’s expression morph from the pleasant one in front of Lady Kolton into the one he was all-too familiar with. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and braced himself. 

"She's a potential marriage candidate."

"I think she's too old for you, Your Grace," his son mocked without hesitation. “You know society will talk if you get married three times." 

The glare that the archduke gave Lincoln would be enough to set him ablaze and then buried six feet under.

“This is what I get for marrying that woman,” he responded darkly. “A mentally defective son.”

It wasn’t the first time Lincoln had heard him call him that and while he didn’t show how much it affected him on his face, something inside him clenched hard. Taking a deep breath, the young doctor watched as his father stalked away. He rolled up his sleeves and ran a hair through his already unkempt hair, his hand getting caught in the knots before re-entering the sitting room. 

"Please, have a seat," he offered, giving her his best neutral expression.

Despite the fact that she was already sitting, she nodded fervently and beamed at him.

Lincoln sat down on the sofa across from her, regarding her with an observant look. Minutes ticked by without either of them saying a word.

"It's so warm in here, don't you think? Don't you get hot wearing that?"

Lincoln's attire was not unusual from his normal daywear. His button-up shirt was as wrinkled as always. He had a light red vest on top that added some color to his otherwise black-and-white ensemble. Nothing seemed too out-of-pocket to him. 

But maybe she was referring to the physician’s coat that he had on top of it.  

"Did you know the human body has 2.5 million sweat pores?" Lincoln asked, his head tilted slightly to the left.

"Oh, that's a... very... interesting fact." The lady ended carefully as her eyes darted around the room.

"Yes, I thought so."

A few more minutes passed before she spoke again. "Ah, I simply must tell you, Lord von Sane!”

Lincoln visibly flinched at the sound of the foreign title. 

“I visited the capital’s top stylist this week to have my hair attended to. What do you think?" For dramatic effect, she began twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. 

It wasn’t as if Lincoln didn’t know she was fishing for compliments, but he simply didn’t know what to compliment her on. In his eyes, he saw no difference between her hairstyle now than any other regular hairstyle he would see on other noble ladies.

"The average woman spends approximately two hours a week styling their hair. Considering the simplicity of your hairstyle, I’d say the stylist you went to spent no less than fifteen minutes on it," Lincoln responded, proud of his deduction.

There was a moment of silence before Lady Kolton gritted out, “I was there for three hours.” 

The young man’s mouth went agape slightly before he closed it. He opened it again in an attempt to say something, but closed it once again like a fish. 

Trying one last time to establish a connection with this man, she brought up another topic. "The Duke tells me you're studying medicine."

"Yes, I am," he confirmed.

Maybe I should try complimenting her hair again, he decided. He took another look at her hairstyle: her caramel-colored hair was neatly curled to her shoulders with a silver hair comb keeping one side pinned back, revealing the right side of her forehead and cheek.

Forehead… His mind began to wander. 

"That's so fascinating! Do you think you could teach me sometime?" She continued bashfully.

"Do you want to learn about lobotomies?"

"Oh~" she cooed, intrigued. "What's that?"

"It's when I cut into your head, of course."

"W-What?" Her smile faded.

Lincoln gave her the first genuine smile he's had all day.

"Wh-why my head?" Her voice grew shaky.

"Well, lobotomies are usually used as treatment of severe mental illnesses," Lincoln explained, sitting up straighter. “It’s a crude method that hasn’t been performed in decades, but I’ve always wanted a willing participant. Since you already have your hair pulled back, I can start with the one that drills into your forehead right-” He pointed to an area right above his eye socket, “-here.”

By now, the young noble was pale as a sheet while his smile grew by the minute. 

“I left you speechless, didn’t I? I didn’t think someone of your caliber would be interested but you learn something new every day!” He said, his head thrown back with a slight chuckle. “Would you like to read up on the procedures? I know just the books t-”

His sentence was cut off when Lady Kolton suddenly stood up, violently removed the hair comb from her head, and threw it at him. Lincoln, frightened by her actions, ducked to the right and hit his head on the armrest.  

Meanwhile, the archduke had ordered Langley to check on Lincoln and Lady Kolton every once in a while under the guise of delivering refreshments. Putting his ear close to the wooden door, he tried to hear their conversation, but everything was silent. Suddenly, the other door was thrown open, revealing a very angry but crying Remy.

"My Lady!" The butler exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

It was as if she didn't hear him. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress, her eyeliner smudging onto the silk fabric. Walking away from him rather quickly, she left the manor and closed the door loudly behind her just as Lincoln exited the sitting room. Spotting a cup of coffee on the startled butler's tray, Lincoln picked it up and took a sip.

"Needs more sugar," he commented. Putting the cup back on the tray, he patted Langley on the back before walking towards the exit himself. “Tell His Grace the meeting went wonderfully.”