Chapter 53: 'Crowds are not your thing?'

Amelia took a deep breath. The suspense was killing her. Constance was taking too long. Is she having second thoughts? Contemplating maybe whether to pursue the marriage or not? The duchess glanced at Whytton and he looked like he wished his neck were long enough so he could see clearly.

Not only did the chapel bustle but the spectators at the garden were also whispering at each other.

As a dear friend and the duchess, Amelia decided to see what the wait was about and if there was anything she could do, or maybe offer a bit of advice—though she didn't think she'd be much of help. What does she know about pre-wedding jitters anyway? But a little support wouldn't hurt, right? However, as soon as Amelia turned to make her way towards the carriage, Ralphe took a step down from the dais. He walked down the aisle hurriedly. Then suddenly Mabel turned to face the crowd. She showed a small smile to the relief of everybody. Ralphe came to a halt and ran a palm down his face. Though he has his back on the crowd, Amelia could clearly see the Marquis' trembling hands and uneasy shoulders. After one deep inhale, Mabel reached her hand inside the carriage.

Her lady-in-waiting was already pretty wearing casual clothes, but she hasn't seen Constance this beautiful—glowing even. Like some heavenly being stepping down. Her white dress covered in small crystals gathered around her waist and slowly scattered towards the middle until only a handful was placed near the hem. Her shoulders and chest were bare which showcased her perfect posture and her elegant nape. The dress' sleeves were only up to her arm. Constance wore the bracelet that Amelia gave them as a present last Christmas.

Constance's veil was long and studded with small pearls sewn randomly with a floral applique edging held in place by the family tiara—a small diamond-studded tiara that came to a point in the middle. Isabel received it as an heirloom from her mother, and now she passed it to Constance. And though her face was covered with a veil it didn't quite hide the redness of her nose and eyes.

When Mabel walked closer to the middle of the chapel where Ralphe was waiting, she curtsied low and stepped aside. Constance lifted her gaze and smiled at her groom with her eyes starting to well again. Ralphe made a short chuckle and reached his hand inside Constance's veil to wipe her tears away. Then he caressed her cheek, closing his eyes as he kissed the duchess' lady-in-waiting on her forehead. Ralphe mouthed a question that roughly translated to something about how Constance was feeling, and the bride answered with a nod.

Seeing their love for each other burning before the eyes of the people who came to witness their union, there was nothing else but sighs of relief. What ought to be a dreadful day, turned out to be very romantic—almost out of a romance novel.

After their ardent display of affection, the Marquis turned to face the altar and placed Constance's hand around his arm then they continued to walk up to the dais where they both sat on small, cushioned stools as the priest officially started the ceremony.

Listening to the passages one by one, Amelia couldn't help but stare at her lady-in-waiting's veil as if in some sort of trance. She started wondering how her dress would be when she gets married. How hectic it would be—more hectic than when she was forced to decide on the details of her debutante ball, for sure. But when that time comes, Amelia thought she'd call Sybil for some help.

Then as if awoken from a dream by the increasing sound coming from the singing children, Amelia shook her head.

She's not even at the right age to get married. Heck, she doesn't even know whether or not she'll be married to Alexander. They're not even officially engaged, nor did she receive any word about how the duke's trip to the palace was. And lastly, if she does get married in the future, there's no telling if it would be to Alexander.

Amelia shook her head again. It's no time for her to selfishly think about herself.

**********

The ceremony ended with people throwing petals at the couples as they made their way out of the chapel. Just like the bride's parade around town earlier, Constance will once again ride through town, but as a married lady accompanied by her now-husband on an open carriage, and will end at the entrance of their estate.

Amelia waved her hand goodbye before she was guided back to the estate to rest and wait for the couple to return. The duchess also took this chance to change to a more breathable dress. The corset was still there, but, at the least, the bodice and the hooped skirt and layer upon layer of fabric were gone.

"So many layers for only an hour and a little over half of presenting myself to others," Amelia murmured as her ladies-in-waiting helped her change.

Finally, alone, Amelia took the letter she placed in one of the drawers of her dresser. She already read it, but the celebration was both suspenseful and exciting that she forgot about the contents.

'My dear Cice,' the letter started, 'a bird told me that there was no one in your estate at the moment and that you have gone to attend Constance's wedding.' Amelia chuckled at the familiarity with her lady-in-waiting when he hasn't even stroked a proper conversation with Constance, 'I hope you are enjoying yourself there. And make sure to swat away any annoying flies that might try to hover over you. I'd like to squash them myself but I'm too far at the moment.'

"As if someone would try to—" Amelia stared at herself in the dresser's mirror and let out an awkward laugh, "No. He wouldn't, right? I mean, he barely has his footing in the duchy, plus he's new at the Keep. No one in their right mind would try and flirt with a duchess, right?"

"Who are you talking to?" Amelia felt like her soul was thrown far away as she jumped from her seat and let out a short shriek, making her drop the letter on the floor.

"Can you at least knock, Arabella?" the duchess glared at her lady assassin.

"I was knocking but you seemed busy talking with someone…" Arabella scanned the room, her steps light as a feather. "There's no one here, right? Like some bastard of a duke who's trying to sneak you out again?"

"There's none of that here," Amelia gave her lady-in-waiting a side-eye. She gathered the hem of her dress and looked at where she dropped the letter. But before she was able to spot it, Arabella went up to her and crouched. Her lady assassin reached for the foot of the stool and pulled out the small piece of paper.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Arabella inspected the paper and as soon as she read who it was from, her wide eyes darted at the duchess. "Really?" she said, her hips snapping a little to the left as she placed a hand on it. "From your love?" the lady rolled her eyes and spoke in a sarcastic tone. Amelia wanted to grab the letter from her, but since it's Arabella she's sure to use one of her assassin moves to quickly escape. Despite not being far from her age, the lady assassin could be such a child… most of the time. It's better for Amelia to just let her be.

"The bride's not here yet?"

"It will take them a while. There are probably a lot more people in the streets than it was only Constance on the carriage. I came to ask if you wanted anything to eat. It's almost sunset and you haven't eaten anything since you got dressed for the wedding."

"I'm good, thank you. The banquet will start soon. I don't want to ruin my appetite." Arabella nodded at her duchess and excused herself. Together with Laila, they planned to tour Christa around the estate. "Could you call Uncle Vance when you see him? There are some things I want to talk to him about."

"I will when I come across him."

"Thank you, Bella." The lady assassin answered her with a smile then she curtsied lightly before heading out. But it wasn't until Amelia heard the door close behind the lady assassin that she remembered Arabella didn't hand her back the letter.

Amelia sighed and massaged her temple. She just hoped that Arabella doesn't do anything childish and give it to her advisor.

A few minutes passed, and a knock on the door sounded.

"Lia? It's me. Arabella told me you wanted to talk."

"Yes. Come in, Uncle."

"Have you rested enough?" Vance asked as soon as he sat at the foot of her bed, facing her.

"Yes. Thankful that I was out of that ridiculous dress. It's too much." Amelia gestured at the boxes stacked on one side of the room. "Please tell me my debutante dress wouldn't be like this?"

Vance chuckled and said he couldn't promise that as Madame Camellia has a firm stand of her own.

"So what do you want to talk about?" the old advisor sat comfortably and held his hand together in front of him.

"Uhm…" Amelia's heart suddenly raced. It wasn't supposed to be like that. She was only going to ask, and there's nothing wrong with it, but why did she feel like she's going through a trial confession? "Have you heard anything from—Alexander?" she said in a low voice. The duchess focused her eyes at the foot of the bed, embarrassed to see how Vance reacted.

"Well… I haven't. He hasn't told me anything or has heard from anyone who knew."

"Really?" the duchess' shoulders visibly slumped, and now she felt silly. There's no rush. Even though they're not officially engaged, the fact that Thuenia's helping her duchy's economy was more than enough proof of Alexander's intentions.

Of course, as she has told herself time and time again, there's no way the emperor would simply agree to their union. The fact that he didn't even bother to ask about it when she and her advisor went to the palace could only mean that he didn't care about it. That the rumors were only based on the unrestrained behavior of the duke.

"Do you… want me to ask someone I knew that is close to the duke?"

"No!" Amelia stiffened and reached a hand to her adviser. "I mean… No. It's okay. I was just… just curious," swallowing air discreetly, the duchess got up, turned her back towards her advisor, and pretended to look for something in her dresser's drawers. If only Amelia could find a hole big enough for her to fit into, she'd gladly crawl inside and stay there until all the unnecessary feelings of embarrassment were gone.

"You two write to each other often, why not ask him about it?"

"No… I possibly can't. It's too—much. I can't take it." Amelia almost slapped her forehead with her palm. She realized she was thinking exactly like some love-struck young ladies she's read in those romance novels—well, technically, she's young, but not sure about the love-struck part. But she won't be that young soon. She ought to stop reading those and send them back to the library.

Vance fished his watch from his coat's secret pocket and placed it back as soon as he knew the time. It was nearing sunset judging from the changing hues of the sky outside, and when Amelia brought her attention back to her advisor, he was already standing.

"Leaving so soon, Uncle?"

"I have to talk to the Count about the extra hands that we'll be sending from the palace, and the funds. Do you still have something to talk to me about?"

"Uhm… when I was little, was there any talk from Father about an arranged marriage?"

"Arrange marriage? To whom and where did you get that idea? I don't recall there was ever a discussion about that."

"It's nothing. I was just wondering because lately, I've been feeling like I've known Alexander before we even met at the Gathering. So, I thought maybe we met each other before the accident happened. If that's the case, then Father knew exactly what being engaged to another House meant. He's not plotting agai—" Before she can even finish her sentence, Vance stopped her.

"Your father loved you dearly. He wouldn't want to make life choices for you that would put you in harm's way. Believe me, Lia. And if you think the duke feels familiar to you, maybe that's because he's earned a place in your heart." Amelia gazed at her adviser.

In such a short time and with so little interaction with each other? The duchess asked herself. She doesn't believe it.

"Do you have any more to discuss?"

"No. There's none, Uncle. I'll come down once Laila and the others are back." Vance answered her with shrugged shoulders, and she wondered why. Was there something more pressing that they needed to discuss? Maybe there were some important issues that she missed earlier.

"I'll wait for you downstairs, Lia," Amelia answered with a soft smile. She stood from the dresser's stool and ushered her advisor to the door. Closing it after he's gone, the duchess walked to her bed and slowly laid down. There's still a little time before the banquet starts. The couple won't be able to join them until they've changed themselves. So, until then, she's expected to converse with almost everyone. That's what a good ruler does, they say; talk to her people and listen to them.

**********

The music at the banquet hall woke Amelia up. She groggily looked around and noted that the sun's almost set. Finding the small clock placed on a distant shelf, she made out the numbers despite the growing darkness. Not long after, a knock took her attention. When she permitted entry, Arabella and her other two ladies-in-waiting entered, all dressed and ready for the occasion.

Fortunately, Amelia doesn't move much when asleep, so aside from the light creases that could be worked around easily, there's only her hair to worry about. And since they'd already been informed by Marie that the banquet's already starting, the duchess opted to let her hair loose with the side gathered together by a simple golden hairpin.

As usual, Amelia was announced when she arrived, and she made her way through the crowd of people. She talked quickly with people she knew and took her time with those she doesn't get to see often. When the couple arrived at the hall, all heads turned their way. Submitting to the request of the majority, the two kissed at the top of the stairs and raised their glasses. Everyone did the same and congratulations to both came flooding.

"Crowds are not your thing?" a soft voice emerged from behind the duchess, and she quickly looked back. Greeted by a pair of mellow green eyes, Amelia took a sip from her glass and returned her gaze to Constance.

Oswyn seemed like the type of person that easily gets too close to someone—overfamiliarity's not a thing Amelia tolerated. Especially to people, she's bound to work with.

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