Could it be real?
The more she wondered and asked herself, the more her head hurt until warm palms squeezed her cheeks, and she was forced to look at the worried amber eyes in front of her.
"Cice, hey, can you hear me?" Amelia blinked fast, and as she did, it was as if her worries vanished little by little. By the time she regained her own thoughts, she had held the duke's hand and slid it off her face.
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Alexander asked as he stepped back to sit, his eyes never leaving the duchess.
"I—" Amelia was interrupted when the cheerful-than-usual young waitress came with their food on a tray.
"One serving of pottage for the lady," she said smiling, "And one serving of vegetable stew with extras for you… Sir." She said shyly, lightly swaying, with her tray kept close to her chest.
"Uh… Thanks. I'll be sure to enjoy it," the duke politely replied, and the waitress nodded, hiding half of her face with the tray, and the duchess almost rolled her eyes.
Her eyes narrowed at the girl, examining her from head to toe. She was okay. Normal, Amelia thought. She must've dreamed of a happily ever after with her prince or something to get so jittery in front of Alexander, who also smiled every time his and the waitress' eyes met. Amelia knew that he's just being polite—must also be from habit—and he probably shows his perfected dukely smile to everyone, so there's really no meaning behind it. But they were taking too much time looking at each other that it was becoming an eyesore.
Amelia raised her brow and discreetly glared at her food.
The girl looked petite. Maybe a tad slimmer than Arabella and shorter. But her hands were those of the hardworking ones, so Amelia should be impressed with that. By the looks of it, she looked like two or, perhaps, three years younger than her. Earning a decent living was to be proud of, and it doesn't look like she sells herself off when night falls.
"We should eat before these get cold," he said, picking up the wooden spoon nearby.
Picking a spoon herself, Amelia mixed the contents of the bowl before bringing a spoonful of the stew into her mouth.
Pottage stew was called a peasant's stew since it's basically just a thick soup made of grains and vegetables. If the income's a little stable, the commoners could afford to buy meat, but mostly, they stick to the ones they've hunted or caught since once produce hits the market, it's mostly out of their leagues. Paired with crusty wheat bread, Amelia ate with delight and was finished before the duke could empty his bowl.
"Oh no," Amelia stopped, stunned, to look at the duke after she had some water, "I don't have any money with me." She said with a straight face that sent the duke almost choking on his food.
Alexander let out a laugh after swallowing. He drank a bit of water and leaned back, looking satisfied. "It's on me, Cice. Don't worry," he confidently said.
"Could you stop calling me Cice?"
"Why? You call me Lex too." He winked, and Amelia also almost spew her water. She couldn't rebut since she really does call him Lex from time to time, but she mostly calls him Alexander.
When the filling meal was finished. Alexander left the jeras on the table, and they left.
As the sun started to descend, the town square appeared a lot livelier than when they entered the eatery. Even the cold wind that passed through their cloaks didn't seem to bother anyone.
Lights were being prepared to be put up, and different music started to fill the square. As they walked along the cobbled street, looking at small specialty stalls and watching street performers amaze their spectators, Amelia glanced at the man beside her. They both tugged their hoods securely earlier, so a part of the duke's face was shadowed—to the duchess' disappointment.
Amelia sighed, and the duke was quick to notice it.
"Are you feeling tired?" he asked, crouching a little, so he was at eye level.
"No, not at all. I'm just… full, I guess." Amelia flashed a small smile. There's no way that she'd tell Alexander to pull back his hood a little so she could see his face better.
"Uhm… I'd like to be somewhere a little quieter. Less crowded." Amelia looked at the side and swallowed the redness that her cheeks were not able to contain.
The duke nodded, and they both walked away from the crowd. Finding themselves in front of a massive tree with a few wooden benches fit for three people placed around its enormous trunk. It's a bit far from the massive wishing fountain at the center of the square but close enough to watch the performances.
Before Amelia sat down, Alexander made sure that he's wiped away any dirt on the bench. Thankful, the duchess smiled at the duke and said her thanks.
"About… you know, us." Amelia started, swallowing nothing but air as she tried not to be intimidated by the amber eyes that stared back at her.
"What about us?" Alexander asked, almost with a murmur, as he leaned closer to Amelia.
"About…" the duchess played with the fabric of her cloak, gathering her wits about her. "When we get married. If you want to have a lover or two, I won't hold you back. It's not part of our deal, so—uhm…." Amelia trailed off, her voice becoming even softer than she started. "Your sister, Lady Leticia—Leti told me that you've been… depriving yourself these past few months because of our engagement with me. I remembered about it at the eatery when you were talking to that waitress. So, what I'm saying is that I just wanted to say that there's no need for you to—" The duchess stopped mid-talking when the duke forced a kiss on her.
Baffled, Amelia sat still as a rock. Her reasons were drowned, and her limbs fell soft to her sides.
"Stop. I don't want to hear that from you, understood?" Alexander firmly said, probably just an inch away from her, as he took her lips again. Deeper but gentler, the second time. His hand slipped around her waist and the other on her nape, pulling her closer to him.
The kiss was deep but short. Alexander wanted it to be longer, but he didn't want to overwhelm the duchess. There were not many people around, and Aclador's not a conservative duchy like Bruiles and Osmea, so kissing here and there can be perfectly normal. But if he didn't stop there, he's not confident that his hands wouldn't stray elsewhere.
Of all people she has to converse with, it's with his sister. He already knew that most of the time, Leticia's up to no good, spouting whatever suited her mood. He should've had Symon keep her in check during the celebration, but she's as slippery as a snake and always found ways to slither somewhere.
When he inched away, Amelia stared at him in a daze. Her long lashes fluttered softly as she tried to grasp what had just happened. Alexander's jaw tensed. He cleared his throat and leaned back. He contemplated if he should put his hands over the duchess' shoulder or hold her hand again as some sort of comfort. He wanted to ask if she was alright, but it would seem condescending of him, so he just stole glances instead. One of which, he saw Amelia wipe her lower lip with her thumb slowly.
The lips he had just taken.
Savored.
Alexander gulped. The thought of wanting to kiss her again rose, and he wondered what she would do if he repeated the kiss. Would she be mad? Would she let him? Amelia didn't protest of any sort to him earlier, so it should be okay. Right?
'No, it's not alright! How dare you think of her that way? Like she's used to it as one of your ex-lovers?"' Alexander reprimanded himself. Of course, she wouldn't be just all right with it. He kissed her. In town, in public. He's practically her first lover, her first kiss—hopefully—her first in everything… intimate.
The duke mentally punched himself.
The thought tickled Alexander's mind, and a smile cracked the unconcerned expression he's trying to appeal. He looked the other way, his hand making its way to hide his mouth. Remembering the last kisses they shared before and how she responded to him, Alexander's certain that it was her first kiss, but thinking about the possibility that she might've responded that way because she was surprised crossed his mind, and it didn't bid well with him.
Alexander glared at a distance.
His face suddenly turned sour. They've been separated for seven years, and Aclador's full of strong, capable men, not to mention the three brothers that were just as strong and handsome as him hovering around her throughout her stay in their duchy. There's also that certain age that everyone went through where they'd want to explore things beyond their boundaries. They could joke about it and try once—or maybe twice? There's no telling, and the duke's thoughts just continued to a dark path thinking of either Elias or Piers as her partner.
Well, probably not Elias. He's too straight-laced and judging by the way he looked at the duchess, he only saw her as another sibling.
Piers.
Piers could be. Since he's the closest to Amelia and they spent enough time together during their escapades. And the dance the duchess shared with the second Mulford son last night? There was definitely something from the way Piers stared at her with soft smiles.
Should he ask her?
Alexander inhaled deeply. He took a quick glimpse of Amelia and found himself already staring at the warm crystal blue eyes of the duchess.
"I'm—"
"What a—" They spoke at the same time. For a second, the two rulers stared at each other before letting out a short giggle as they looked the other way.
Thankful for the change of atmosphere, Alexander turned to the duchess and said, "You first."
"No, you first." She brushed away a few stray hairs away from her face. "Yours seemed important."
"Well, I just wanted to apologize for jumping onto you suddenly. It's understandable if you'll be mad. But…" Alexander moved a little to close the space between them, "I don't want you thinking like that. Like I've done it a million times—well... I've had my years of, uhm… not so good reputation—I'm sure you've heard most of it," the duke chuckled awkwardly, "and I just want to let you know that I've had my reasons then. Well, it started with that reason and just continued out of—habit?"
Alexander wanted to smack himself for not setting his thoughts straight. Even he had trouble comprehending the string of words that came out of his mouth. He tried to tell Amelia that seven years ago, he wanted to protect her. That the rumors aroused because of his own twisted way of finding information that could help her. That a few years ago, he wanted to stride back to Osmea, to her duchy, bearing the fruits of his labor, and once and for all, give justice to the late duke and duchess. But he couldn't. He failed.
"Uhm, what I'm trying to say is…." Alexander almost yanked his hair out of frustration. He's usually good at talking and convincing others.
"What you're trying to say is that you've changed?" Amelia continued where he left off. "You've changed since you met me? Is that it?" there was a hint of disbelief in her tone, and the duke didn't blame her. It was hard even for him to accept it, especially when his thoughts would still wander to his old habits from time to time.
"I know it's hard to believe. Even I can't grasp it at first." Alexander looked away; his hand slipped through his hood and onto his nape.
The Duchess didn't answer anymore and just nodded her head. There's no telling what she thought as she showed little emotion in her face. That's why Alexander liked surprising her, breaking her usual regal demeanor in public.
After some time, the duchess turned to him and asked, "Why are you in Aclador so early? Piers said you've been here days before yesterday." Just hearing the second Mulford's son irked Alexander a little.
"Leticia reports to the emperor about her travels and being around her so much takes a few years off my life, so I went here instead."
"But she adores you. Leti, I mean."
Alexander remained silent. He knew that his sister loves him despite leaving to travel, but that didn't mean he'd forgive her so easily. He wanted her near him, especially at times when he wanted someone to comfort him after letting the Council have their way with him. From a kid to suddenly being a duke was beyond the definition of hard, and he needed her. Badly. He wanted his sister and no one else. But she wasn't there, and somehow, in her absence, he learned to be strong. He learned how to handle himself and be the ruler that he became.
"Is that what she told you? That she loves me? That she left me for my sake?" he asked dryly, and for a second, Amelia had worries in her eyes before she turned away, looking down at the ground with both her hands grasping the edge of the bench.
"Would you believe me if I tell you yes?"
"No," was the duke's quick reply. "She tells that to almost anyone but me. So no, I don't believe her." Though he answered it without hesitation, it wasn't entirely the case. There's still a part of him that believed in Leticia—wanted to believe—but he's too hurt to admit it. Maybe, at some point in the future, when he's fed up with hating his sister, he'd come around and actually spend some time with her.
"So…" Amelia tried to sway the conversation to something else after seeing the sudden change in the duke's mood. "What are your favorites?" the duchess showed a small smile, and Alexander couldn't help but smile as well. For one, he should complement the duchess for reading the atmosphere and trying to change the subject.
"My most favorite would probably be you," he said, his hand suddenly on top of the duchess' head as he swiftly kissed Amelia's forehead. Immediately, the duchess blushed, and seeing how she looked like a statue, the duke let out a laugh and then stood up. "Shall we enjoy ourselves, Cice?" he asked, reaching out to the duchess.
Amelia looked at his hand, then at him, and with a discreet inhale, she grabbed it. Alexander smiled broadly and tightened his grip to pull her off the bench. With her other hand, the duchess gathered her cloak about her and tugged her hood.
As nighttime approached, the two rulers looked from one stall to another. From handmade products to local street food vendors until Alexander ended up using all the jeras he brought. Only then that the duchess suggested that they stop buying since they wouldn't want to use their House's crest and be known after they put on an effort to hide their identities.
At one of the stalls, glass hair ornaments were being sold. And though they're glass, they were fashioned to look like crystals. It's cheaper than the real thing, so many young ladies were picking from the assortment laid before them. Even Amelia couldn't help but take a peek. Every single one was molded differently. And since it's hard to work with glass, each one had its unique charm; not one was similar to the other. And if by any chance, they did have the slightest resemblance with one another, then the way they reflected light was different.
"What do we do? I'm out of money, and you like it too…" The duke purposely sounded disappointed in himself to see how the duchess would react. Usually, when he told this to most of the girls he's been with, they'd either insist him to buy it, or they'd ask him to have Symon buy it later and send it to them. But when he realized who he was comparing his former lovers with, Alexander tried so hard to keep the amusement to himself when Amelia told him she didn't need it.
"I already have a lot," she said in a whisper, trying to be considerate of the others, "There's no need for one more." She said, pushing the duke gently forward to coax him to keep going.
"Okay, okay. We're leaving," he laughed when the duchess gave out a short grunt trying to push him to walk because he kept resisting her.