Capítulo 49: 'Why are you so against it?'

Given that it's the weekend, not a soul roamed the halls. At the far end of the second floor was Carmen's office. The two ladies entered after the headmaster, and not long after another young lady dressed in a simple olive-colored dress that hung just so where the tips of her black shoes were peeking through. Curtsying with a tray of food in her hand, she proceeded to place it at a nearby small table. She transferred the cookies and biscuits from the glass jar to the gold-plated plates with a lovely carving of rose vines around them. After placing it on Carmen's table, she then grabbed the pitcher of water and placed it on a small round tray together with three glasses placed downward.

"Thank you, Shelby…" Carmen smiled at the young lady and softly nodded before she faced Amelia and Arabella again to introduce the young miss, "This is Shelby Hille. One of the kids studying here. She wants to be a member of the Keep so she's been eagerly coming here even on a weekend to help me and the other teachers."

"Is that right, Shelby?" Amelia faced her and Shelby hid half of her face with the tray in her hand, blushing, she nodded vigorously. "Why is that?"

For a moment, the young lady looked at Carmen, unsure of whether to answer a duchess or not, but the headmaster encouraged her enough for her to utter a few words.

"I want to help kids like me who don't have a family and couldn't get proper education," she answered in a low voice.

"That's very noble of you, Shelby. Keep that mindset at all times and study your hardest. Miss Carmen here will help you as she helped me when I was younger."

Hearing Amelia, the young lady's eyes immediately lit up as her face showed a broad smile sweet like honey. She nodded once more before she excused herself, giddier than her former nervous self. But as soon as Shelby was out of the door, Carmen's face twisted a little when Arabella suddenly straightened up to ask if the young lady could be trusted.

"Arabella! That was unnecessary. I'm really sorry, Miss Carmen. Bella didn't mean anything bad about it. She's just being careful because of all…the things that have been happening lately."

"It's okay, Lia. It's not something new to me. Your safety has always been a priority. I was just taken by surprise, that's all." Carmen wiped the small beads of sweat that started to form on her temples. "Lady Whitt, I can assure you that Shelby can be trusted. She's one of the oldest students here and was practically raised by the church. I can vouch for her honesty and fear of the Heavens."

"Then if you'll excuse me," Arabella sternly said and leaned over to pick one snack from each plate laid in front of them. When she swallowed them and drank some water, only then was she able to offer the same snacks to the duchess.

Amelia stared at her former governess apologetically, but Carmen understood. The headmaster also ate with them, so the lady assassin's suspicions didn't last long. By the time their chat was over, the duchess realized that they'd made themselves too comfortable and overstayed. With a promise to visit again soon, Amelia invited Carmen to her coming birthday, then the two ladies were out and over their horses the next minute.

Despite Arabella's attitude towards Carmen earlier, she was able to open up to her easily as the headmaster started to talk about Amelia's childhood. It was refreshing to hear it from another person and made the duchess think that she really had a childhood; that the memories in her head were not make-up ones she created as she grew up.

But Carmen was careful. She chose her words well and only shared those that she knew Amelia remembered. The duchess couldn't ask her for more since she knew in herself that she might not be as ready as she thought to remember her life.

What if it wasn't as happy as she believed? The vague memory of her looking out the window with a heavy heart was surprising enough. What if there were also a lot like that? Could she still believe in the happy family picture that she painted in her mind?

With a forced smile, Amelia waved at her former governess goodbye before she and her lady-in-waiting went out of the gates. There's no need to stay longer and dampen the mood.

**********

Just a little over an hour before sundown. The wind picked up, but Amelia wore a much lighter cloak since the sun was at its strongest today of all days.

With their horses coming to a slow strut in front of the open high, pointed, metal gates, the ladies were welcomed in the vast courtyard of the church. The many gazebos scattered around were filled with visiting worshippers and maybe some who have business with the priests. Amelia and Arabella were greeted by the guards and their horses were brought to the stable as they needed to walk to get inside. Trailing on the pebbled pathway to the High Priest's villa at the back of the church, the ladies were able to avoid the crowd.

Looming in front of them was the grandeur that was the Church of Lyzato. Its name came from one of the gods in Heavens that helped protect the empire during the First Great War. Wide round arches made of white stone and thick pillars, with ornate designs of Lyzato's winged celestial animals, supported the structure of the colonnade. Attached to it was a pair of frontal towers with huge windows and intricate traceries. One tower was higher than the other and served as the bell tower. Stained windows depicting the First Great War and the role the Heavens had in the victory surrounded the apse at the main altar. With the virtue and wisdom of the High Priest, the church has always been a haven for those who wanted to get away from the troubles of daily life and reflect.

But honestly, Amelia's not really fond of the High Priest—or the church in general. Setting aside the fact that they were the first ones to go against her ruling, there also have been reports of misusing funds within the church. Whether the High Priest knew about it or not would depend on the ongoing investigations for now. Aside from funds House Florence allocated to the church, still, a huge part of the church's treasury came from the generous donations and tithes from people in the duchy. And since most of Amelia's sponsored institutions were closely connected with them, the funds for these institutions were all sent to the church to be managed according. If they, in any way, misused any of it, they would be answerable to the duchess.

Compared to the opulent church, the villa where the priests reside looked too ordinary. Not even a speck of grandness in its design. And on its doorstep was a rather ominous person talking to the High Priest in all smiles.

"Greetings to the messenger of Lyzato, High Priest Kirgim," both Amelia and Arabella curtsied low, and they remained so until Kirgim waved a hand and blessed them.

The church has its own small council consisting of three former High Priests but the only function their council have was to choose the next in line through a series of tests that gauges their faith and belief in the Heavens. Then, it was said, that by whatever miracle there was to it, the one that Lyzato visits in his dream was to be declared blessed and will be the next High Priest. The council will continue these tests to those who wished to take them until one comes forth and reiterate their dream. They said they all have the same dream when they became High Priests, then they leave behind their first name and take the one Lyzato have given them.

But looking at Kirgim, one wouldn't think that a man with such great looks would want to be a High Priest. His deep-seated grey eyes were soft, and sort of twinkled when he smiles. His skin glowed like he's been bathing in milk and petals every day and his hair went down to his hips with three gold bands clasping it together starting from his shoulders. Also, despite the long white dress shirt with a band of braided golden thread tied around his waist with its end that fell just below his knees, Amelia knew that his body was toned in all the right places. She's seen far too many toned bodies to be able to discern one even in the baggiest of clothes.

That's also one of the things that didn't sit well with Amelia—he looked too vain in her eyes. Though she's not thinking that he should wear beggar clothes. It's just what's in the back of her mind every time she came to visit.

"Isn't this a lovely afternoon for a family reunion?" Kirgim said with a smile, gesturing at the man that Amelia refused to address earlier.

"And greetings to you too, Uncle," Amelia said curtly, slightly nodding her head.

"How you've grown so much, niece!" Arabella almost switched to her assassin mode when the man suddenly lurched himself to hug the duchess. Amelia was reluctant to wrap her arms around him, but the High Priest was there, and she didn't want to appear rude. Tapping his back exactly three times, Amelia distanced herself naturally, straightening her dress and pulling her cloak tighter around her.

Walton was surprisingly light on his feet despite being a man of considerable girth. He's nearly twice the size of the Kirgim beside him. His dull brown eyes were not his only odious qualities. Though he's not unsightly, he's not striking either. And standing beside Kirgim only made the High Priest seem godlier. His protruding belly, proof of his ill drinking habits, was unbecoming as a member of House Florence.

"I didn't think you'd be in Osmea at this time of the year."

"I've been missing your birthday these past few years, I couldn't miss this one of all. It's your debut and we're the only family left of each other in this duchy after all."

"Oh, I see…"

**********

Modest chandeliers hung from the high ceiling intricately painted with a depiction of Creador and the first war it fought and won. With the setting sun giving the room a mantle of warm yellows, the many gems and crystals embedded on some of the large pieces of artwork and sophisticated tapestries plastered on the wall glimmered and dance in the flickering lights.

A grandiose throne of gold sat in the center of an elevated baldachin with carmine overlapping draperies cascading to the side and tied together with a golden clasp in the shape of a dragon's head. The matching rug ran from the throne to the doors. On the left, not far from the emperor's seat were two less grander seats meant for the empress and the crown prince.

Those seeking wisdom from the emperor can do so on the many long and rather bulky oak benches, all of which faced the center of the hall. The many advisors and other nobles and aristocrats who would come to witness the emperor's audience and sometimes to provide added council occupied the luxurious balustrade that overlooked the entire hall.

"Duke Clement, I didn't know you were coming. Is this a surprise or did I just miss something from this morning's list of worries I have to sit through?" Augustine Rosenburg went down from his seat, wiping his hand on the fresh cloth handed to him by his secretary.

"Greetings to the Great Dragon of the Empire," Alexander greeted, his fist on his heart while his other fisted and remained at his side as he bowed low. "I come here… unannounced but I still seek your words despite it."

The emperor looked at him for a moment, and Alexander tried his best to reciprocate. With green eyes like that of a dragon's, anyone would lay motionless beneath Augustine's cold stare.

"Let's walk, Duke Clement. I've been in this hall far too long. I need some fresh air."

Keeping a safe distance from the emperor, Alexander followed him out of the throne hall and into the open hallways that overlooked the garden and the many barracks, and the spacious training ground.

"It's about—" Alexander's voice trailed off as he glanced at two massive men standing guard at the emperor's private study.

"You're not here to join me for dinner, are you? The empress is not feeling well, and my son's off somewhere further embarrassing himself. With a lack of company, the food has been quite stale as of late," the duke's eyes followed the emperor's until he was able to take a seat again. Clasping his hands over his table, he leaned forward and narrowed his already daunting gaze to Alexander. "What is it you're here for, Duke Clement?" his voice was commanding now. For a second the young duke almost trembled but he stood his ground.

There's no turning back. It's now or never.

With the rising curtain of the night, the wind that came from the slightly opened windows of the balcony was chilling enough to keep some refreshment cold, but the beads of sweat trickling from the side of Alexander's face and his now damped palms were proving otherwise.

Alexander was about to utter his first word when the emperor raised a hand to stop him. Blinking confusedly, the young duke's brows furrowed then panic started to settle on the pits of his stomach.

'Did the emperor already know what I came here for?' Alexander asked himself.

But well, of course! A part of himself agreed. If Vance had all the means to gather information, why won't the emperor have one—or some? It's not a surprise for Augustine to know of his plans to marry Amelia. In fact, he's dragged the rumor too long when he should've asked for them when it started. The balance of power between nobles and aristocrats has been nervously balancing on a single rock these past few months waiting for an announcement to be publicized.

"I'll get to the point. I'm here to ask for your—" Again, Alexander was interrupted by a raised hand from the emperor.

"No," he plainly answered.

"You haven't heard me yet."

"I don't need to. I already know."

"If you do, then I won't have any trouble explaining it then." Alexander looked back and saw a comfortable enough cushioned high-back seat slightly facing the emperor's table. "And your answer?"

"My answer is still no. End of discussion."

"Why? Are you so eager to keep your throne afloat that you wouldn't want us to get married? I—We—know that you might feel threatened once our duchies unite by our marriage. But I assure you that that won't be the case."

"Oh? And how certain are you that none of your constituents or whoever with the devil's tongue will not persuade you in any case?" the emperor looked the other way. He shuffled the pile of paper at one side of his table, looking for something but finding nothing.

Alexander sat silently. He's thought everything through before coming. He even had a script written on a piece of paper that's now crumpled in his pocket. But words failed him, and his mind went on a hike somewhere far and high. The young duke tried to look every bit confident, crossing his legs, his back against the chair with his arms on top of the chair's arm.

How should he answer? How should he assure the emperor that what he's thinking would not come to fruition?

"Thuenia will draft a treaty to maintain the current status of the duchy—that Thuenia will answer to the emperor as it always has. You can place whatever conditions you wish to put in. I won't reject it as long as it's within the means and will not be taken advantage of. I can assure you that much."

"You," the emperor lifted his gaze and tore a hole at Alexander's being, "Why do you want to marry her?"

Why exactly? Alexander tried to grapple with the remaining reasoning he could think of but before any entered his mind. He heard the emperor let out a long sigh followed by a slow shaking of his head.

"Why are you so against it?"

"Are you hearing yourself, boy?" the emperor asked back in a half chuckle that irked Alexander. "Can't you really think of something why I'm against it?"

"If it's the current rule you're worried about, as the emperor you can always amend it. That's why I'm asking for your blessing."

"The duchess was here a few days ago," Augustine started, "I asked about the recent assaults on her person, and she didn't mention anything about this. I thought she would, but she didn't. Why was it?"

Of course, Amelia wouldn't say anything to the emperor. Alexander said he'd handle everything from start to finish. Would it have been better if she asked for his blessing too?

"Was it because you forced her into marrying you?" Alexander's eyes darted violently at the emperor.

"I'm not so low as to use such underhanded tricks on the duchess. She's far too guarded and smart to be fooled by such." Augustine nodded his head and Alexander wondered if he somehow satisfied him with his answer.

The long silence was deafening. Alexander didn't want to use that one thing Vance told him to say since his pride wouldn't let him. Winning this voiceless war with the emperor would only be satisfying if he won it with his strategy—that's what Alexander thought.

"I stand firm by my answer. I've been far too lenient on you, but you won't have it your way this time Duke Clement." Augustine leaned back, looking as if triumphant over the duke. Alexander was about to prove him wrong but a sudden knock against the door behind him drew both their attention.

"You're majesty. It is I, Morne." Alexander glared at the man that entered after the emperor permitted him. He was Augustine's secretary and have been in charge of the emperor's overall health as he came from a family of doctors and researchers. "You have some…" he looked passively at Alexander before returning his eyes to the emperor ahead, "things that needed to be dealt with before dinner. Also, the empress' want your presence in her chamber."

"Alright." Augustine pushed back his chair and stood up. Straightening his clothes. Alexander was perplexed. They're not finished talking yet. He hasn't even said half of what he came to say.

"Wait. We're not done talking yet."

"We're done talking. You can leave, Duke. It's unfortunate that you've wasted your time, but it was a good… try." Augustine placed a hand on his shoulder, "You can see yourself out, boy." He said rather sarcastically.

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