Capítulo 47: 'The spitting image'
Midday.
According to the sun's position and the shadows casted by buildings and trees—it's already a little over ten. Though it has been slightly cold these past few days, for some reason, the sun's been doing its best since it got all high and mighty. What kept them from arriving at the Capital in time was a peddler's carriage that got one of his wheels stuck in a crevice, and seeing the small flag on the carriages and the large crests plastered on the doors did not help his anxious heart work on it any faster.
Vance came down and ordered to help the poor man and what seemed to be his wife. After checking on them, the advisor walked to Amelia's carriage and knocked. Laila pulled the curtain of the window aside, and he explained the situation.
"There's no rush," Amelia said, seemingly unbothered, but in truth, she was expecting the thing about the emperor done and over with fast. Dragging the thoughts of what it might be that he wanted to discuss later did not bid well with her. "Just have them help him and give them some sandwiches and beverages that the innkeeper had us bring. There's plenty for extras."
"I will, duchess." The advisor was gone after a nod.
When the wheel was pulled out, and the crack on the road was temporarily sealed so that their own carriages could safely pass, Vance gave one of the four baskets the innkeeper insisted on bringing. The peddler let Amelia pass through first, bowing their heads repeatedly to apologize for keeping her and her company out on the road too long. Amelia wanted to tell them otherwise, but Christa told her to stay put since Vance's already done the talking for her.
"We don't want to let other people know that the duchess' traveling with so little company."
"Christa's right, duchess. They're grateful for your patience. Let's just leave it at that." Arabella seconded.
The rest of the trip was uninteresting. It was all dead trees and sceneries in hues of brown in different shades. There was no village or any kind of settlement insight, too, for at least another three hours. By the time they entered a town before the Capital, it was already a little after lunchtime. Thankful for the food packed for them, Amelia was full and slept most of the trip.
"We're stopping by your Mansion at the Capital, duchess?" Christa asked as she peeked through the window.
"Yes. I want to wash the dust off and change into an appropriate dress. Oh, right… I wasn't expecting to be called by the emperor. Do I even have a decent dress to wear?" Amelia turned to Laila after suddenly realizing a possible predicament.
"Mr. Vance sent a messenger bird to the palace back at Osmea and had Madame Camellia whip you up a dress you can wear. She sent a word to a friend who owned a boutique and said that the dress will be delivered at the mansion today."
"And what about you? Have you anything to wear?"
"Mr. Vance mentioned that only you two would visit the emperor, along with some chosen knights."
Amelia turned to Arabella and asked, "Even you're not coming?"
"No," was her simple answer, "I think Ancel will. I'll let him take the credit for protecting you this time." Though she said she was okay with it, Arabella still sounded annoyed that she was told to stay behind. And as far as the time Arabella became her lady-in-waiting, the only time she's not with her was when she's called back for a mission.
**********
A House's carriage with its waving flag and crest was always a sight to see on the streets. Finally entering the Capital, Amelia could hear exclaims from the onlookers outside. She kept telling herself that she shouldn't peek; it was hard to control it, but she was proud that she managed through.
At last, the mansion's high gates opened, and Amelia's carriage went through. Coming to a stop, the duchess quickly drew the curtains to the side and looked at the unfamiliar home. Even in the fragments of her memory, the mansion wasn't in it. And since the incident, this was only her third time coming over. The first was when she was announced to be alive and had to come and pay respect to the emperor. The second was during the Gathering a few months back.
When their carriage halted at the foot of the short stairs, Amelia got down without much help and looked up at the impressive structure before her. The hand-carved high arches, the large windows, the expansive balconies sticking out from each side of the structure. The entrance had a high ceiling painted with one of Osmea's best sceneries. Huge marble statues of Goddesses were at every post. It's relatively small compared to what she had expected, but the well-trimmed bushes and curated garden were very like how she remembered her mother would've kept it.
Inside was no different from the palace. Warm color tones dominated the walls. There were more landscape paintings than the usual gold or marble décor, but what caught most of her attention was the painting at the grand staircase with balustrades of rose vines going around each of the columns carved onto it. Holding onto the cold varnished handrail, Amelia went up the stairs and stopped at the platform where there were two more stairs opposite each leading to the second floor of the main wing. Displayed, almost with its floor-to-ceiling height, was a portrait of the late Duke with his hand on the shoulder of the late Duchess of House Florence, sitting on a stool with Amelia still a babe in her arms.
Amelia stared long and hard at it. She missed them. It would be a lie not to, but she had so little memory of them now that the feelings of longing weren't as deep as others would expect. She had her mother's cool blue eyes, her silver hair, and her smile. Her father was as big as she remembered him. His eyes were of deep earthy colors, and his face a more structured one.
"You didn't cry when you were born so we were worried." Vance suddenly spoke behind the duchess.
"I don't look much like my father, don't I?" she noted, glancing one last time before facing his advisor.
Vance paused for a while. His eyes shook a little before he placed his hands behind him and said, "You're like a small version of your mother. She was exactly like you when she was your age. We used to joke about it with each other, how you're every bit your mother and none of Nathaniel. He said you'll change once you grow up, that his features would soon be noticed too."
"Did I?"
"Of course," Vance looked back at the portrait. "But to be honest, you're better off with your mother's traits," he kidded. "Though it is apparent that you got your father's wits and will."
"You came from the same country as my mother, but I don't remember being told where exactly."
"Yes. I was… your mother's bodyguard if you could call it such. But I'm afraid I can't tell you where we came from exactly. Just the thought of that place brings back memories I'd rather much forget—I hope you'd understand, Lia. I promise to tell you when I'm more ready. Would that be alright?"
The duchess stared softly at her old advisor. She hasn't asked nor him telling her his story and his past. But to think that her Uncle Vance looked almost pleading to her with his slightly drooping eyelids made Amelia believe that he must've been significantly hurt from where they came from. Maybe the scars on his arms and some parts of his body were caused by some maltreatment; perhaps he was a former mercenary—or worse, a slave—that her mother employed to guard her.
"I understand, Uncle. I'll wait until you're ready," she said, placing a hand on his arm. Vance looked at it and smiled. He took her hand and linked it around his arm as he guided her up the set of stairs going to the west wing of the mansion.
Walking through a spacious hallway, the fourth door from the end of the hall was slightly opened. Vance pushed it lightly, and the servants all went stiff to see them. They all greeted her and her advisor, then hurriedly went out once they'd all finished getting the room ready.
The rooms following hers were given to each of her ladies-in-waiting and then Christa—Arabella's at the far end. Amelia's room was bare with no hint of any sort of art or decorations fit for the duke's mansion. It only had a bed, a dresser, a small drawer with nothing on top of it aside from two neatly folded towels, and a small fireplace already lit to keep the room warm. It reminded her of the room she occupied at Rose's inn.
Looking around, everything felt new to Amelia. Was she always confined at Osmea? Why's started to cloud the duchess' thoughts, but she didn't ponder on it much when a knock took her attention. By the door were Laila and Christa. Being the mansion technically hers, knowing where her companions were to stay made Amelia a little confident of showing it to them. And much like her own, the other rooms were just as bare. After they were all settled, the ladies went out and ventured into the receiving halls and the garden.
**********
"I thought you were traveling and checking every town?" Amelia asked, baffled at the unexpected guest who arrived just as they finished lunch.
"I heard you were in town, so I thought I'd drop by." He answered with a shrug and wandering eyes at the entrance.
"You're not here to give that silly notion of marrying you, are you?" the last time the duchess saw the crown prince was when she was poisoned. Alexander ordered her people to see him out, and after that, she was already too busy with her recovery to even know what happened after they left.
"I'm just here to see you. Though I would be in bliss to know of your approval." Duncan said with a side smirk and fluttering lashes that Amelia almost rolled her eyes. If it was Alexander, she would've already given him a sarcastic response, and they'd laugh about it, but the man before her wasn't someone who'd find such retorts funny.
"I don't think you and I both have the time for small talk. I wouldn't want to be the cause of your delay."
"Oh, hush it," he said, waving his hand. He found himself a chair to sit on in the drawing room Amelia brought him in, and he crossed his legs after leaning back. "I wouldn't be bothered by such things. I'm a crown prince. The next on the throne. The future ruler of Creador—a little tardiness wouldn't hurt."
"It's not about whether you're late for your engagement or not. It's about respecting the time and effort of the people who came invested in you! It's—"
"They came because they want to see me; want me to hear and solve their problems. Waiting is but a small price to pay for my presence." He butted in before Amelia was even finished talking. And here she thought that in the brief time since the emperor had him travel from town to town to accept an audience, he would at least mature seeing how they work. But it was quite the opposite.
Amelia shook her head slowly and ran her palm to the side of her hair. Just sitting across him was making her head ache. How much more being married? She would've killed herself in less than a month—or maybe him.
After a short inhale, Amelia straightened her back and faced Duncan.
"If you have all the time in the world, well, good for you. But I don't have that kind of leisure. I was just getting ready to meet your father this afternoon. I apologize that your visit will be cut short again this time." Amelia said flatly. Not even a hint of being apologetic or anything.
"Oh, right. You were almost killed again," Duncan said in a low voice, leaning forward. The way he said the word 'again' irked Amelia as if belittling her security. "How are you?"
"Never been better," she answered sarcastically.
"Good. I hope that whoever wants you killed would hire better men. If they can't even kill a woman, then what else can they do right?" Duncan ended with a slight chuckle, and Amelia was relieved that the clock stroke two because if not, she would've said some drastic things.
"Why, will you look at the time? I'm afraid I have to excuse myself, Prince Duncan. I have far more important things to do." If Duncan wasn't going to leave, then she will. "My servants will see you out," Amelia added, pointing at the footman waiting by the door.
Of all people to visit her, it had to be someone she dreaded. She's convinced before that he has an air of arrogance about him but was still hopeful that he would change once he's known more of the empire. She was hopeful of him finally acknowledging that being a ruler is a responsibility so great that everything could crumble with a single mistake. But no, instead, he saw just how vital his existence was on a different scale and ended up with a twisted understanding of being the crown prince.
Alexander's also a little full of himself in more ways than one, but he's never talked to her like Duncan does. He's as proud as a ruler as she is. And what did he say? Killing a woman should be easy? Amelia wanted to scoff at that earlier, but she tried to stop herself since arguing would only lead to Duncan prolonging his stay. And if he did, she would've been forced to punch him herself. Arabella could easily kill him if she ordered so.
"You look so tired," Christa mentioned when Amelia finally arrived in her room. Laila and Arabella were taking out the pieces of her dress and laying them out on her bed.
"If you're talking to Duncan, you would definitely tire yourself out. Just thinking about him and our conversation's making me irritated all over again," Amelia said, flailing her hands about. "Is that the dress Madame Camellia's acquaintance sent?" she turned back and grimaced at the sight. It was more than the usual Madame sends.
Laila awkwardly smiled at the duchess and nodded her head. Amelia sighed. The visit was so sudden that she didn't have enough time to prepare herself.
"So…" All eyes were on Christa, "shall we start?" she gave out a small awkward smile, showing the hairbrush in her hand.
Amelia glared at her hand and forced herself to slump on the stool in front of the mirrored dresser. "Can we not?" she asked, and the ladies shook their heads.
The preparation started with Christa doing her hair. She was more skilled than she has given herself credit for. Amelia thought she might invite her to be a lady-in-waiting after all when they get back, but only if her mother approves.
She styled the duchess' hair in a low bun with small locks falling on the side of her face. Then she took a long crystal band from the box that came with the dress and tied it around the base of her bun. As for her earrings, Amelia decided to wear the same ones she wore to Duke Mulford's birthday. Lastly, the most dreaded dress.
Just looking at how many were in the ensemble made Amelia not want to wear it. It's in shades of green that ranged from light to dark, with gold fabrics and appliques. The gold she could accept, but green wasn't a color she's used to wearing, but at least the duchess was hopeful to see how it would look on her.
The dress was in layers of a soft chemise with a thin strap, followed by a corset that cinched her waist. Then a complicated cut of the puffed-sleeved dress that tightened a few inches above her wrist with cuffs made of a stiffer fabric covered in gold sequins and small crystals that stretched up to the back of her hand with its shape held by a soft elastic thread that went around her middle finger. The bodice of the dress was embroidered with gold thread. It went up to her neck but with an opening between her clavicle and her chest. The shoulders, all the way to her neck, were made with the same fabric and design as her cuffs—it was a little itchy for Amelia's preference.
Holding her arms up, her ladies-in-waiting fitted her another overskirt in a lighter shade of green with golden appliques, embroidered beads, and crystals in the shapes of stemmed leaves. To finish, Amelia wore a thin, almost see-through fabric in a darker green sleeveless overdress cinched at the waist to give more volume and shape.
"Wouldn't I be screaming winter holidays with my green dress and red cloak?" Amelia suddenly noted with a straight face as she examined her finished look in the mirror. The ladies looked at each other then to the cloak Arabella had in her arms, and they laughed. They all agreed that she would look like that, but they only brought the red cloak with them.
"It isn't so cold, and this dress is making me sweat nonetheless, so I think I would just wear this to the palace. No cloaks." She kidded, and the others agree, stifling their giggles.
A few moments more and Vance knocked on the door. He was surprised at the sudden change in the duchess' wardrobe, but he complimented it and said it suited her. Amelia rebutted, but her advisor wouldn't be swayed and even said that he should tell Madame Camellia to whip the duchess some new dress of a similar style—maybe even grander. The duchess refused, but Vance only laughed it off.
**********
The mansion was situated in Calser, a quiet little town some thirty minutes away from the palace. There are other towns where nobles and aristocrats could purchase a piece of land near the center of the Capital, but Vance said that Calser has more charm in it. There were only a few noble houses there, and it's closer to the borders. He also shared that Alexander's family's the only ruler who didn't have a mansion at the Capital. They always stayed at an inn whenever there's a Gathering or attending to invitations. When Amelia asked why, her advisor had nothing to answer.
'Maybe it's a good question to strike up a conversation in the future,' Amelia thought.
Everything was so different in the Capital. The business, the air, the atmosphere—even the children running across the street being yelled at by others. When she came to the Capital to attend the Gathering, she was too nervous to even look around. She also realized she has changed a little—as if she's taken hold of the reins of her title. Before, she felt like she's only playing duchess in front of everyone, but after socializing so much with so many people back in Aclador, she thought that she's really a duchess—a ruler. And somehow, that added to her confidence.
When they reached the palace gates, two guards stepped in front of the carriage and halted them. Another came and knocked on the door. Her advisor opened it to confirm that it was really the duchess, as the coachman informed. Seeing her, the knight immediately stood in attention and saluted, as did the ones in front. After Amelia gave him a small nod, Vance closed the door, and their ride continued.
-----
"I apologize, but the emperor has yet to finish his audience," a slim gentleman entered and welcomed Amelia and her advisor after a servant guided them to the drawing room to wait while she fetched the emperor's secretary. "He's almost done for today, so it wouldn't take too long. You could wait here, or if you'd like, we hire the best gardeners and landscapers in the Capital. Our topiaries would surely be a source of entertainment while you wait." Both the duchess and her advisor looked out the nearby balcony where the gentleman pointed.
"We don't mind waiting. I'm sure the emperor has a lot more important things to deal with. We'll wait." Amelia answered with a curt smile.
"Thank you, duchess." he bowed low. Before turning his back toward them, the gentlemen informed them that the drawing room's balcony's the only one with access to the garden.
Fatigue kept up with Amelia, and as she didn't want to yawn so much in the emperor's presence, she excused herself and told her advisor that she would like to see the garden. Mr. Vance agreed and said that given the strict security in the palace, she would be safe and that he will call for her when the emperor was done with his business.
The gentleman wasn't exaggerating. Large topiaries shaped unexpectedly formed a single line and acted as a barrier between the lawn and the cobbled foot-walk. Trailing up to the entrance to the garden, Amelia spotted a greenhouse just up ahead. Noting that it was built the same way hers was, she got excited because the idea of creating such structures came from her duchy—it was one of her father's projects because her mother loved to garden.
Finally, at the opened door to the greenhouse, Amelia peeked inside, but no one was there so she welcomed herself. It's almost winter, so there were mostly plants that would've bear produce by late spring next year or early summer. She hasn't seen much of a greenhouse filled with crops instead of ornamental plants like the ones she had, so it's refreshing. And just as she was looking at the small trays one by one, Amelia was startled by a firm voice that demanded an answer.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" a maid came in with a small bucket of water and a towel hanging on her arm with her sleeves scrunched up to her elbows.
"I—I was visiting, and I was told it's okay to look aro—" the duchess wasn't able to finish what she was saying when a honeyed voice asked from behind the door. The servant looked at her and then to the door, but no one came in.
"I'm really sorry. The door was open, so I assumed that the greenhouse's for everybody to see." Amelia reasoned, a little nervous about the trouble she had caused. When she passed by the servant and made it out the door, a handsome lady in a wheelchair locked eyes with her. She looked regal, but she wore a plain dress with a thick shawl over her shoulders and a blanket on her knees.
"Are you okay?" she asked with her honeyed voice.
"Ye-yes. I am… I'm sorry for intruding."
"You seemed new to the palace?"
"It's just my second time coming here, and the emperor's secretary said that I could roam the garden while I wait." Amelia gulped some air and straightened her back when the lady examined her from head to toe and then back. She had deep-seated scrutinizing brown eyes, but her voice was sweet and mellow. She had her hands on her lap before she gestured for the maid standing by the door.
"I see… Dana, get me some flowers I picked earlier and give them to this young lady," she ordered, and Dana, the maid, bowed her head and hurried inside. "Are you… perhaps going to meet Duncan? Is that the reason you've been called?"
"I hope not," Amelia couldn't help letting out a short chuckle, and once she realized what she just said, she cleared her throat and corrected, "I mean, I already met with the Crown Prince earlier, but I don't think it's what the emperor called me for."
The intimidating air vanished as soon the lady let out a short laugh, "So, it's not true that every woman in the capital is after him. He likes to brag, and I bet you already know that."
"Well, I'm sure that he has other charms that make him irresistible to some." Amelia let out an awkward smile.
"Like the crown and the bragging rights that come with it…but that's not enough to charm you, I see?" The lady gave her a quick glance and then reached out when she saw her maid approaching from the greenhouse holding a lovely sunset-colored dahlia.
"Well… those are just but superficial things that can vanish in a blink of an eye. I believe there should be more in a relationship than just a show of wealth and power." She shyly stated.
The lady smiled, "I like you," she said, "I'll give this to you as a gif—" her words trailed off, and her eyes widened. She watched as the flower she was handing to Amelia fell on her lap because her hands shook so much that it was painful to watch. The maid hurriedly came to her aide, asking what was happened, and the duchess' heart pounded, unsure of what to do or how to help. All Amelia did was stood there and watch as the lady's mouth gaped a little and clenched a handful of the blanket that's covering her lower half from the chilly afternoon.
"What's the matter, my lady? What is it?" Amelia took a step forward and caressed the lady's shoulders up to her back.
"It's nothing. I'm okay." She whispered, grabbing the duchess by the arm and pushing her away. Amelia was taken aback at the rejection, but she was about to ask her another question when a familiar voice made her look back.
"Duchess, the Emperor's waiting. We should leave."
"B-but she's… I can't just leave her."
"Who?" the advisor looked confused but visibly stiffened when the maid covering his line of sight moved aside. "Empress…" Amelia was equally stunned as her advisor when she heard what came out of his mouth.
It's the empress! The air that supports the great dragon in the sky. Since she hasn't been to the imperial palace much, she hasn't had the chance to meet her. She's seen her in portraits, but she looked a lot different in person, especially since she's actually crippled. Amelia learned before that the empress was ill for a long time, but she didn't think the physical damage was this great.
"Forgive my rudeness, Empress Maeve." Amelia bowed deeply, the lowest she could give whilst bowing her head. "My ignorance has gotten the best of me. Let me introduce myself at once. My name is Amelia Cicely Florence, the current ruler of Osmea and Duchess of House Florence."
"No wonder…" the empress said in a muffled voice but loud enough for Amelia to hear. "The blue eyes and the silver hair…" she uttered.
Amelia was confused. More than anger which should be natural for someone of her rank not to be acknowledged, Empress Maeve's eyes quivered, and her breathing became ragged though the shaking of her hands lessened a little—maybe because she was clenching onto her blanket so much? Her eyes shifted to the empress' maid who shook her head, then to her advisor who was already intently staring back at the empress.
"I… I inherited most of my features from my mother." Amelia said in a small voice, uncertain of what to say or do. Should she excuse herself? But how would she do that? She looked at her advisor to let him know that she needed some help; however, his attention was not on her.
Did they know each other from before?
"The spitting image," her majesty said again, sounding spiteful this time. Amelia was about to utter a word, but thankfully, Vance placed a hand on her back and repeated that the emperor had arrived and was waiting.
"We shouldn't keep the emperor waiting, duchess." Amelia nodded, and she bowed again to the empress, saying nothing since she couldn't come up with any words to say anymore. Vance did the same, but before they left, his voice was firmer than ever when he said, "It was nice seeing you again, Empress Maeve, Great Mother of the Empire."
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