Chương 15: 'Her birthday's coming'

It has been a month and two weeks, to be exact since the messenger bird came back that evening following the duke's letter. Amelia had been drowning with work for days after the poisoning happened. Word reached her that the incident that occurred in her palace already circulated throughout the capital.

Vance also made necessary arrangements to only mention the duchess and no one else—that the person responsible for such had not been captured yet. Hence, letters that Amelia needed to read and respond to fill her study, and some nobles flocked to Osmea for a visit. Even Piers and Osmund Mulford, Vernon Mulford's sons, came to visit, which she turned away eventually and had Vance explain to them the situation.

Messengers from the Imperial Palace also came with gifts and letters from the crown prince; they came almost a week apart to check on her. Amelia appreciated the thoughts, but some were outright excessive.

Her audience just finished, and she realized she was famished, and her throat was dry. For the past weeks, anyone who wanted an audience did so through a letter, and the duchess personally wrote her reply. Laila and Constance had been a significant help, while Arabella and Ancel were summoned again by their grandfather a few days after she regained consciousness. The lady assassin came back about two weeks after but soon left again, she didn't say what she was doing, but Amelia knew that it was still connected to her aunt's husband. The last time she heard about him, he dealt with some business at the neighboring kingdom and hasn't returned since—though he did send a letter asking for his niece's health.

"I can't believe he hasn't responded yet," Laila pouted when Amelia looked her way, breaking her train of thought. "We even wrote 'Cice' at the end. What's the deal with him?"

Constance lightly shook her head as she finished preparing the tea table on the Duchess' balcony. It's already mid-afternoon, and the weather was great for a cup of freshly brewed tea. Since the incident, Mr. Vance changed almost half of the maidservants, and only her ladies-in-waiting were allowed to prepare her tea. Her advisor also employed additional food tasters; even the emperor sent her one from his personal employ.

Ayland Robina, House Robina's youngest prince and a close friend of Amelia, also visited and stayed for three weeks to help widen the duchess' immunity as requested by Vernon.

"But he really did ask your hand, right? For marriage and not as a lover?" Constance whispered, blushing, and Amelia nodded, equally blushing. Laila almost shrieked, but she pursed her lips and giggled instead.

Amelia wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but the thought weighed on her heavily, so she confided with Constance. The lady was shocked as soon as she knew and suddenly blurted it out. Laila happened to be nearby, busy skimping on some financial documents and heard it.

"Arabella will be so mad about it," Laila said with a smile. The two knew Arabella's not-so-Arabella personality and have gotten used to it over time. "Oh, and there's Mr. Vance too…" Laila casually uttered while she read through report after report.

Most ladies-in-waiting were assigned to assist during social affairs and run small personal errands, but Amelia's help her even in the internal affair matters that her title came with—they're like assistant advisors, her own little council she could easily ask opinions from.

"Well, I didn't mean to hide it for so long. If only Alexander replied, I could—"

"And since when did anyone—a man—ever matter in your personal decisions?" Constance asked in a straight face. "Don't tell me you've been completely wooed?"

The duchess scoffed. How could she be head over heels for someone who drove her to kill a person? She hasn't forgotten that fateful night in the dungeon—she hasn't even touched her dagger again, which the other one Ancel found during his rounds.

"Are you going to wait for him to come here and tell Mr. Vance? It's already been past a mon—" Constance's lecture was cut short when Laila suddenly stood up, tipping the teacup Constance just served her.

"Laila!" Constance's voice rose as she hurriedly wiped the spilled tea.

"Yellow banners!" she stated, and both the duchess and her other lady-in-waiting turned to where Laila was pointing.

"What? They're not yellow; they're gold…."

"The imperial carriage!" Amelia stood from her seat and quickly headed for the door; her ladies-in-waiting followed her.

'What's the imperial carriage doing here? Is it Duncan again?'

By the time the duchess arrived at the foot of the stairs near the palace entrance, Amelia looked back at her ladies-in-waiting, who quickly straightened her dress and fixed her hair. They peeked at one of the posts—surely, the emperor wouldn't come himself, right?

Vance arrived not long after to welcome whoever was in the carriage. Much to the relief of the three ladies, it was just one of the emperor's secretaries. In his hands was a medium-sized box in white with golden ribbons wrapped around it. The advisor then extended his hand and guided the gentleman to the nearby drawing room.

Amelia looked once more at her ladies-in-waiting and took a deep breath before proceeding to where the guest was.

"Oh, duchess. Thank goodness you're here. This gentleman here is Mr. Jeoffrey Lahndun, one of the emperor's aides." Mr. Vance introduced.

The middle-aged man wore a dark green long-sleeved coat that was buttoned up high enough to reach his cravat with the imperial brooch attached to it. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled warmly after bowing his head.

"His majesty, the Great Dragon of the Empire, Emperor Augustine, sends his regards along with this gift and his wishes that you would consider using this for your coming birthday, Duchess Florence." The man carefully undid the ribbon and opened the box to reveal a ruby-studded double-rowed wishbone tiara that curved up and rose to a small point above the crown of the head.

Amelia's jaw dropped. It was stunning.

But why a tiara? A duchess couldn't wear a tiara on other occasions aside from her own wedding where she's expected to wear the family tiara that has been passed down from generations that followed—only royalty had the leisure to wear tiaras anytime and anywhere.

**********

"Have you seen it, your grace? We need those documents for today's meeting with the Elders." Symon couldn't be more frantic. The documents which he worked hard for days were missing. Alexander asked for it yesterday to review, but he fell asleep before knowing it and completely forgot where he placed it.

They've been at it for almost an hour, turning everything, they could turn.

"Check the drawer in my nightstand," the duke said as he rummaged through his desk's drawers.

As soon as his assistant opened the small drawer, a small, crumpled piece of parchment looked too suspicious. Curious, Symon couldn't help but unravel it.

"Cice? As in Cicely? As in Amelia Cicely? Amelia Cicely Florence? The duchess?" as soon as he muttered his thoughts, Alexander's eyes darted to his secretary's hands.

"Oh, shit," he said, his hand covering his mouth. He rushed to the side of his bed and took the paper from Symon.

"How long has it been since I got back?" Alexander's shoulders slumped as he sat down at the edge of his bed.

"Why?"

"Just answer my damn question, Symon!"

"We-well… since about a month and a couple of weeks?" Symon tilted his head, unsure of himself too. They're all too busy to count the days.

"Oh, shit." The duke muttered slowly, laying back on his bed. "I forgot." He brought his arm to his eyes and took a deep breath.

Since he announced his engagement with the duchess to the Council, they dismissed the meeting right away only to inform him that the lot of them would stay at the palace to talk and draft the conditions that Alexander mentioned. So, he held his audiences only in the morning, every other day, with the afternoon intended for the Council.

Alexander always thought of himself as a hardworking fellow, but sitting in the hall for hours, listening and thinking, and only standing up to use the bathroom made all his former hardships seem trivial.

"What do I do? I completely forgot." He whined some more. Alexander wanted to roll here and there, but just thinking about it depleted his energy.

To think that he neglected his fiancé for almost two months after the two of them shared the same ordeals was inexcusable—he remembered how he was so happy to receive the letter that he couldn't sleep that night. But the pile of papers regarding different duchy matters took his entire week. Moreover, they occupied the following weeks with his engagement conditions that he forgot he's yet to answer to the one he's actually engaged to. Not to mention, new pirate ships were spotted close to the port, some brave ones already docked at the rough waters of the north.

The sea was also Alexander's responsibility.

What frustrated him more was that he had to contact his sister who left him just a few months after he inherited the title to join their uncle's overseas expeditions. Of course, she probably enjoyed herself too much to even bother replying to him, but one of his Sea Commanders informed him that the issue was resolved.

"The thing that you should be doing right now is finding those documents that I worked so hard for, your grace, and go to the council hall and sign it, so you can merrily skip your way to the duchess after." Symon flinched when the duke glared at him with one eye before he covered it again.

"How can I skip my way merrily to the duchess when I forgot to write her back?"

Symon's at his wit's end. He looked like he'd pull the duke off his bed and bang his head on the floor, so he'd get his senses back.

"How about you head to the council hall, and after the documents are signed, I'll take care of the remaining work so you can go and be on your way to Osmea as soon as possible?" Symon said with the softest and most patient tone he could muster—and he doesn't have much patience remaining.

Alexander lifted his arm and peeked through his lashes, looking pitiful. He's aware that Symon's just as exhausted as he was, but it annoyed him that he sounded a little more sarcastic than usual. The duke closed his eyes again and sighed heavily. He looked at the ceiling; with another exhale, he got out of bed and shoved the letter in his pocket. Just as he was about to give up on the papers he lost, Alexander saw a part of it between the book pages he was reading last night. He must've placed it there, so he'd see it once he opened the book again—yet it completely slipped his mind.

"Finally!" Symon exclaimed as soon as he saw what was in the duke's hand. "You've read everything so far, right? Well, you made the conditions yourself and sat through the council—which was surprising—I know you'd do well. So don't be nervous." Symon said it because formal meetings were Alexander's weakness. He could lay in wait at a hideout for hours, sometimes days, but he didn't feel the same at meetings. That's why he's always left first or stayed at the far back or at some corner.

The duke's eyes followed his secretary, who hurriedly went over his desk and took his cape from his chair. As soon as he handed it over, Alexander's eyes focused on himself in front of the mirror. He adjusted his clasps and ran his fingers through his hair. And just when he was about to take a step, knocks interrupted him, then Sir Stanwinx came through the door.

"Alex," the man who could be on par with Vernon Mulford in size alone strode in the duke's private quarters and sat on one of the chairs in front of Alexander's desk. "Sit down, son."

The duke and his secretary exchanged looks before he signaled that Symon went ahead of them.

"I should be the one telling you that, but since you went ahead and did so—how may I help you, Sir Stanwinx?" Alex asked as he sat on the windowsill behind his desk, overlooking his luscious front garden.

The mercenary knight grunted. He clearly wasn't there to be friendly with the duke, so Alexander straightened himself.

"There was a lady who stormed the front of the gates earlier." He started, and Alexander couldn't help but arch his brow as the atmosphere turned cold.

"Hmm? Maybe that's because I kind of… broke things off with them."

"Which ya are never good at. At best, I'd bet ya told them to be happy with someone else. Bought them a hard-to-reject gift—expensive—as a farewell. Ya also sent that foreign girl with a promise of a decent living as a court lady. I know ya've been busy making arrangements for them, but ya, my son, is so bad at handling personal affairs I don't know how'd ya handle marriage. Hm?"

Alexander blinked. Only half of what Gustav Stanwinx registered in his mind.

Yes, he had Symon make arrangements with the best jewelers and seamstress in Thuenia. As for his brazen kitten, Adrianna, he asked one of his officers sent as his dignitary at Heodor to give a good word to the king so she could be accepted as a court lady. Adrianna was intelligent and witty—beautiful too—the duke thought she'd have no trouble getting her way around the palace—and maybe even around the king.

"I don't care about yer foreign plaything, but the ladies ya've been involved with here were not just mere cats you've picked from some back alley at town. They're nobles—daughters of counts and barons—this is without retaliation, I am warning ya."

Words fleeted through the duke's ear and out the other as his eyes darted at one of the gazebos scattered in his garden. He noted an exchange of one of the gardeners and a stable boy, and it struck him odd why someone from the other side of the palace grounds would make his way to the garden in broad daylight when Alexander has guests over.

Alexander frowned at the thought, but he quickly faced his father's friend enthusiastically.

"I am grateful for your concern, Stanwinx. But that's for me to handle." The duke smiled curtly and moved to grab a glass of water that his secretary left on his table.

"Ya don't even know that Osmea girl, and here ya are troubling us of—" Alexander glared at the old man.

"I've known her longe—this is nonsense, Stanwinx." The duke's voice was low, but it pierced the mercenary knight as he shifted on his seat. "I don't remember you being this picky on my decisions. I'll see you in the hall. You may take your leave now, Sir." Alexander immediately looked down at his table to take some things with him to the meeting, like a pen—he didn't really need it because he's sure that Symon had him covered. Still, it's the only way he could brush off the knight and return to what he wanted to do, and that's to have someone find out what business the stable boy has with a gardener.

Stanwinx waited a few minutes, tapping his knuckles lightly on the table before he shook his head and stood up. Then, he straightened his clothes and bowed to the duke, which Alexander received with a nod.

As soon as the knight was out the door, Symon came in. He must've been waiting for him outside.

"Is Barrett outside?" Alexander asked.

"Yes, your grace."

"Barrett, have someone call the stables master and the head gardener and bring them to me after the meeting." Alexander massaged his nape as he directed his personal knight.

A month already passed since the incident happened, and yet there's a feeling of discontent within Alexander. He often wondered how, if the poison was intended for the duchess, why does it have to happen on the day he arrived? There must be something more to it since the only people who knew he's coming to House Florence were his own because it was supposed to be a surprise.

The duke had let his guard down for a while because report after report came back to him with no other news about the poisoning. Even the people who looked for George Walton came out empty-handed, saying that he was doing business as usual.

He had thought about infiltrating Walton's home, but Jyver advised him otherwise since the Whitt siblings have been ordered to do just that. So instead, the knight assassin told Alexander to wait for House Florence's share of information. Though he didn't trust the old advisor to share any new information, the best he could do was to wait instead of going ahead and ruining their plans.

By the time the duke entered the council hall, everyone was already there. Alexander casually strode in and greeted them which they responded with light nods. Not much formalities were needed since they'd been seeing each other's faces every single day. And like the days that passed, the duke sat most of the time until such agreements were made concrete.

"All that needs to be done now is for the both of you to sign the contracts."

'Contract'

Alexander didn't like how it sounded. It was as if there were no feelings involved at all. Like it's some job the both of them had no choice but to do.

Well, there weren't many feelings involved, to begin with. Alexander just right up asked for the duchess' hand and laid out conditions that he knew Amelia wouldn't be able to turn away from. It was him that forced the both of them into a contract. At first, he was happy about the engagement, but as the council was held and all possibilities were made clear, Alexander felt terrible.

Well, there's no stopping now.

"Well then, I will leave for Osmea as soon as my schedule permits me. I can, right, Symon?" Alexander looked at his secretary, who was busy organizing the documents handed to him by the Elders. Then, before he could say another word, Lady Norrine spoke.

"Oh, on a different note, I received a word from one of the merchants that the emperor personally requested that the duchess allow him to host her coming-of-age celebration—as a sign of goodwill to the oldest friend of the crown."

"Her birthday's coming?"

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