Chapter 6: 'Relax, I'm not dying'

A silly fight with the Crown Prince wasn't in Alexander's schedule, but if the next ruler of the empire couldn't even read that simple situation—how about not-so-simple situations?

It's a known fact that the prince isn't the brightest even to a bunch of unfortunate minds, but… it's hard to say. People were talking inside some social circles about his ability to lead compared to the dignity and achievements that Amelia possesses and has garnered in a short time. Supporters of the imperial family were in a bind as well. Some have even proposed to find the emperor's rumored illegitimate child, the second prince.

Alexander was staring down at the prince when he felt a light tug of his coat. When he looked back, he saw the hazy crystal blue eyes of the duchess. The poison must've spread through her body by now.

"You two," Duke Clement faced the duchess' ladies-in-waiting, and Constance and Laila stood up immediately. "Cice isn't feeling well. Guide the Crown Prince and his entourage out." He ordered as he bent over to pick up the duchess.

"Hey, don't you dare close your eyes and fall asleep!" He threatened as he hurried through the hallway. He didn't even know where to bring her, but he just kept on walking.

The servants that Alexander came across showed disbelief and concern at the state of their duchess and tried their best to step aside to let him through. Some even gave the duke directions on which way to go.

"Why do you have your room so far from the main wing?" Alexander complained, but Amelia remained quiet. Her arms were loosely wrapped around the duke's neck.

Alexander then spotted Arabella in one of the hallways who signaled him to come her way. He stopped, unsure if an assassin should be trusted amidst all these, but he knew he had no other choice either way. He looked around him before heading Arabella's way, and when he arrived, he saw the lady-in-waiting standing at a painting at the far end of the hall. When she saw them, she ran her hand along the side of the frame and pressed.

A hidden door opened, and Arabella gestured for him to walk faster.

On the other side of the wall lay a spacious room painted in pastel and an impressive crystal chandelier at the center. There was a bed on one side and a worktable on the other. There's also a round table at the center with five chairs and a few bookshelves.

"Duke Clement," Arabella called, gesturing for him to walk faster.

Alexander took wide steps towards her and carefully laid Amelia on the bed.

"Do you have an antidote?" he asked worriedly.

"Relax, I'm not dying." Came a weak reply.

Alexander looked back to see the duchess sitting. "Cice," he called, assisting her in leaning back on some pillows.

"When did I allow you to call me that?" she faintly smiled as she reached out her hand to her lady-in-waiting who placed what looked like candied fruit, to Alexander, on her palm.

Amelia took and chewed it with her eyes closed. When she finished, her lady-in-waiting handed her a glass of water she gulped down in seconds. She closed her eyes again, and within minutes she was asleep.

"Don't worry," Arabella must've perceived the duke's confusion. "This is the duchess' secret room – it's like her personal study when she wants to be alone." The lady-in-waiting wiped down the sweat from the duchess' face. "She needs to sleep. She exerted herself too much trying to endure the poison."

Alexander just nodded.

"Can you turn around? I'm going to change her clothes." Arabella said sternly.

The duke blushed and immediately went to sit at the round table with his back towards the ladies.

Alexander breathed sharply; he could hear the ruffles of the sheet and Amelia's dress being undone. He's not a saint as to not be curious of such worldly desires. How did he manage to put himself in this kind of position?

After some time of fiddling with the ornaments on the table, Arabella informed him that she's done.

"It will be some time before she wakes up. I'll escort you back." Alexander asked himself when did he permit Arabella to speak so informally toward him? He didn't think such a delicate-looking lady would have one of the worst attitudes around.

"I'll stay. Find Symon and tell him that I have urgent matters to attend to and that he needs to go back alone. I've told him about what happened, so he'll believe you." Alexander ordered, his eyes not leaving the duchess.

"Okay, I'll explain to Mister Vance the circumstances… and I'll bring some supper later." Alexander nodded. His mind was full of thoughts that he didn't know what was what anymore. "There's a secret passage here that connects to various parts of the palace. When the duchess wakes up, we'll use that to transfer her to her room."

"Tell the other ladies-in-waiting to stay in Amelia's room and act as if she's there. We don't want to alarm the person who did this by acting like nothing's wrong. Also, post two knights by her room and spread the word that she might've been poisoned."

Arabella looked at him blankly, which Alexander hated—he thought he had perfected his people observation skill, but this young lady-in-waiting quickly managed to fool him. Arabella bowed her head, and Alexander watched as she walked past the bookshelves and heard something open, then she was gone.

All by himself, Alexander suddenly had a lot of time to think, but his fair judgment later crept out of him slowly. His thoughts were in disarray, and on top of the already long lists of questions, the beautiful, almost ethereal sleeping face of the duchess challenged him further.

She looked so fragile sleeping, but Alexander knew that she was nowhere near fragile when he carried her earlier. She might look lean and light, but her body was toned, and her muscles were firm in the right places. He has never known a woman so fit before, and he's been with many. Her long silver hair matched her fair complexion; thin, delicate, but quite subtle lips and long eyelashes made her look otherworldly.

While investigating the duchess a few years ago, he learned that her mother, Lady Priscilla Salwyn, was an aristocrat's daughter from a foreign kingdom that her father met when she was sent as one of the delegates who visited Creador for diplomatic purposes.

It was rumored that the late duke fell in love at first sight. He reasoned that marrying her will strengthen diplomatic ties because he was embarrassed to say otherwise. Still, Lady Priscilla also liked the late duke, so she agreed readily.

"They have such a sweet love story, so why don't you believe in such?" Alexander whispered as he moved his chair closer to Amelia's bed.

While he questioned the reason for poisoning them still lingered in his mind, Alexander rested his chin on the palm of his hand, etching the duchess' features.

The only reason he could think of was to create conflict between their Houses, enough to break ties altogether. If the Council of Elders back at Thuenia learned about this, they would not stay silent and never allow his marriage to Amelia. Poisoning any member of the imperial family and members of the four Houses meant treason, and death's the only way out of it.

Perhaps spreading the rumor that the duchess might be poisoned wasn't a good idea after all.

Alexander started to doubt his earlier decision. He was never one to do so, but since he met the duchess again, some things just didn't go as they usually did.

Alexander inhaled sharply and ruffled his hair. He needed the culprit to think that he succeeded in his task and be confident enough to stay because no one knew that he was behind it. He doesn't believe that someone outside of House Florence did it since if an intruder did mix himself with the servants, he was confident that the lady assassin would notice it—if not, Vance certainly would.

The duke stopped and stared at the ceiling; he hasn't seen Vance since he went back from the garden.

'Where are you, Mister Advisor?'

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly—rushing into things wasn't going to solve his problem faster. For the first time in a while, he felt exhausted. Just thinking of what the spoiled crown prince did when he left and how he perceived what happened was already tiring. He brought his arm over his eyes and tried to get some rest before things get even more hectic around them.

'I just wish that damn prince already left….'

After some peace and quiet, Alexander just fell asleep when he was awoken by the faint sounds of sobbing. Alexander flinched; he wasn't one to be afraid of ghosts but to be in an unfamiliar place and in a hidden room; nonetheless, he couldn't prevent himself from thinking of the impossible. He couldn't even tell what time it was since he left his watch, and there were no windows in the room aside from the small vents that let the air in.

The sobbing became louder, and only then did the duke realize it was Amelia. He looked back at the bed and saw tiny beads of sweat on her forehead as she kept moving her head from side to side. Her forehead wrinkled, and her eyes closed shut.

Alexander panicked. Was she just having a bad dream? Was it a side effect of the poison still? Did the antidote didn't work? Forcing immunity to poison was a torturous ordeal.

He went closer to the duchess and tried to wake her up, but the more he did, the more the sobs grew louder until they turned to groans of fear and pain. And not long after that, she screamed herself, awoke, and wrapped her arms around Alexander tightly. She was heavily panting, and her back was drenched.

"No… no…" Amelia kept repeating, her voice coarse. "Do-don't leave me…."

Alexander felt his heart cracked hearing the duchess. She must've been dreaming of what happened seven years ago.

"Shh… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," the duke whispered and kissed Amelia's temple as his fingers went through her hair, lightly brushing her back.

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