AMELIA, Duchess of House Florence

CHAPTER ONE

"Don't let the stares drag your feet. Keep up with me." Duke Mulford said in a low voice.

Amelia cleared her throat and straightened her back. With wide strides she kept close to the duke's side. It was just recently that she started attending engagements and meeting people outside of her duchy. The stares still got the better of her; she couldn't just get used to it no matter how much she thought she prepared for this day.

She kept on thinking about trivial things like if the ruffles on her blouse were too much or if she should have worn a few more jewelry? Should she smile at everyone? Was the imperial palace usually packed with so many people? Why was the hall too long? At their pace, would they even arrive on time?

Thoughts after thoughts came to her mind like waves on a stormy night; she could barely keep it to herself as people's whispers filled the hall when they passed by.

'Who's that?'

'Is she Duke Mulford's daughter? But it can't be; he doesn't have one.'

'Look, she's even got a sword. Is she a female knight? That's impossible, right? Female knights are rare. But that sigil on her cape—'

The halls of Creador's imperial palace went abuzz at the sight of a young lady accompanying the sword and shield of the empire. She was taller than ordinary and dressed in a knight's uniform with an elegant leather sword belt that held her glistening sword close to her side. But the cape! No one wears a bold red other than—

'That silver hair. Where did I see that again? Wait—silver hair, a knight's brooch, a golden rose on her cape… it's the young duchess from 'that' fallen House!'

'What fallen House?' Amelia wanted to look back at the man and pound in him the fact that her House is nowhere near fallen. Sure, things happened before, but that was only a temporary setback. Her House is still standing strong and proud—powerful and influential just as it did since the beginning of this empire.

"It's the Duchess of House Florence! No way!" another particular young official whispered a little too loud that the others who were avoiding eye contact had no choice but to lower their heads.

"Look strong, my child. We're not here to gain favors from small fries. Remember you're giving them the official first glimpse of the new duchess of Osmea. A small sense of weakness and your predators will come tearing you apart."

Amelia's hand tightened on her sword's pommel as she gave the duke a glance before saying, "Address me accordingly when in public, Duke Mulford."

"My apologies, Duchess Florence," the duke had a smirk on his face that he tried to conceal but couldn't and it took every spare energy Amelia has been saving not to do the same.

She must appear strong—like any male counterpart of her title is.

------

Every three months, the four ducal houses of Creador gather for a meeting with the emperor and was simply called the Gathering. But with House Florence attending for the first time after years of absence, they moved to a small banquet hall. This time, aristocrats and nobles were invited for the occasion.

"Ready?" Duke Mulford reached for the lady beside him and inquired with a fatherly gaze.

The duchess inhaled deeply, straightening her back. Her sweaty hand tightly gripped her sword's pommel in hopes of easing her nervousness.

"I won't know unless I'm inside." She took a few more deep breaths and when she looked back at her companions—her old adviser and one of her ladies-in-waiting—they gave her a reassuring smile that urged her to take a step forward as soon as the doors opened.

"Greetings, Duchess Florence of Osmea and Duke Mulford of Aclador." the knights guarding the banquet hall entrance chanted in unison with their fists on their chests. And as if it was a magical chant, all heads turned towards their direction immediately. Amelia slightly flinched at the overwhelming crowd when she looked ahead.

The crowd's eyes and the overly decorated room looked suffocating, but when she looked over to the duke, he was a few steps behind her. Close as their families are, House Florence, being as old as the imperial family, outranked House Mulford and the other Houses. It's a given that she needed to give her greetings first.

"Greetings to the Great Dragon of the Empire, Emperor Augustine Rosenburg," Her cape fluttered, displaying her family's crest embroidered in gold thread, as she kneeled in front of the dais with her fist on her chest. "It is I, Amelia Cicely Florence, Duchess of House Florence."

"The Great Dragon of the Empire greets you, Duchess Florence." Though Amelia kept her head low and perfectly delivered her greetings as she practiced a thousand times already, her hands trembled at the dagger-like stares that seemed to bore a hole in her back.

Why wouldn't they? Kneeling in front of the emperor as the duchess of the oldest house in the empire was a mere seventeen years old who was hidden from the public's eyes, thought dead by others, and who seemed to pop out of nowhere looking all capable and ready to take what's rightfully hers.

**********

It was one hell of a kneel.

Amelia didn't know how long she kneeled, but it seemed like an eternity. When the Emperor allowed her to rise, she struggled to lift herself up, curtsied and proceeded to House Florence's designated seat.

Her Governess, Miss Carmen, taught her to always hold her head high no matter the situation. House Florence might have fallen—as other people call it—since the incident a few years ago, but it still proudly sits in the mountains Osmea, overlooking its land. With the duchy's economy only on the rise for the years that she managed, the 'fallen' remark on her House would slowly fade.

As Duke Mulford gave his greetings to the Emperor, Amelia's trembling hands found its way back to her sword for comfort. It was given to her by the duke when she finished training and said that it belonged to her late father. It has an intricately decorated scabbard and an outline of roses was carved carefully on the hilt with a huge ruby setting at the pommel.

"You did well, Duchess," the warm hand that laid on her arm were soft and calming, and so was her lady-in-waiting's voice who whispered behind her. It relieved her to have them close, especially her father's trusted secretary, at the same time her current advisor and guardian, Vance Thomson.

She scanned the room that also scanned her like a hawk on a hunt. There were some people she knew, but most were entire strangers. Greetings needed to finish first and since Amelia and Duke Mulford were the last people of importance to enter the hall, the Gathering started once the duke took his seat.

"As you all know, this was supposed to be the gathering of the four Houses," the emperor stood from his throne, "however, since Duchess Florence accepted the invitation for the first time, I could not just welcome her simply. So, I prepared a small feast and decided to hold a special audience to anyone who wishes to be heard."

Amelia showed a curt smile when the emperor looked her way. She hinted at a speck of sarcasm in the his speech but she couldn't sense the same emanating. He looked rather glad. But then again, it must be the nerves making Amelia expect the worse from people—she's itching to get out and go home.

A few minutes passed, as whispers increased among the attendees, the servants entered bringing trays of food and fruits, and drinks in a straight line. After another few minutes, one by one, people started standing to air out their concerns and it didn't take long until the time Amelia was waiting for arrived.

"Greetings to the Great Dragon of the Empire, Emperor Augustine—" a short and stout man walked in front of the dais, "It is I, Earl Levi from the Capital."

"Ah, yes. Earl Levi," the emperor waved his hand to tell the man to come closer so he could hear him amidst all the chatter.

"It's the Earl that kept on sending you marriage proposals for his eldest son," Lady Constance, Amelia's lady-in-waiting, leaned over, holding a fan over her mouth. No wonder his name sounded familiar.

Amelia smirked. It became a habit of hers to smile in even the most unpleasant situations.

"I would like to ask about something, though this might seem impetuous of me; however, it is my—our—concern as well," the man leaked oil from his face as he fiddled with his fingers while looking around for people to support him.

"The nerve of this vile man," murmured Vance behind Amelia who didn't even care to hide his expression.

"Out with it, Earl Levi. Others are waiting for their turn." Even the Emperor had gone impatient. Everyone knew that Earl Levi looked for even the tiniest bit to take advantage of. And the thing was, he didn't hide that fact, which made him even more of an eyesore to most.

"Excuse me, your highness, Great Dragon of the Empire, but–" he glanced at Amelia's way. "Isn't the daughter of House Florence too young to lead? I'm—we're—concerned that she could easily be tricked, misled, or targeted by the people around her. Take advantage of her status and make regrettable decisions that may do more harm than good to her, her house, and possibly the empire." His claim seemed plausible even to the Duchess, and looking around, a few heads bobbed in agreement.

"As the one closest to House Florence, are you telling me that I might trick an innocent lady whom I treated like my own daughter in place of my self-interest?" The room grew quiet as the bear-like Duke of Aclador slammed his palm heavy on the table.

Everyone knew that the Mulfords were not to mess with, especially the duke who earned the title of Swordmaster, the highest recognition for any swordsman—and there's only one of that in the empire.

House Mulford has a strong sense of duty and justice. They have been the sword and shield of the imperial family since the first emperor. There were even rumors that all sorts of things happen at House Mulford's dungeons–and those things were best not known to the delicate ears of the capital's high society. Even the Emperor knew best not to trample with the proud lion.

"Oh, no. N-n-no, Duke Mulford. Th-that is not what I meant," his hands were all over, trying to explain himself as more bits of his fat trickled down his round face. "Bu-but we can't ignore this fact, your highness." He turned again to face the emperor, who earnestly listened to him.

"I agree… This matter needs to be addressed." Another chimed in from the other side of the room, followed by a few more agreements.

Before the Duke of House Mulford refuted, the emperor raised his hand to stop him. He looked intently at the Earl and sighed. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and with his elbow resting on the arm of his chair, he massaged his chin and addressed Amelia.

"What do you have to say about this, duchess?"

Amelia was more determined than ever. Gone was the presence of a seventeen-year-old playing dress-up as a knight.

"May I know your name again, sir?" she feigned, and someone from the crowd was heard chuckling.

Embarrassed, the Earl exclaimed, "Ha! This brat doesn't even know who I am. Does she even know who's who in this hall? It just shows how lacking she is as a duchess!"

"You dare call our duchess a brat?" came the sudden outburst of Vance from behind Amelia.

Amelia extended her hand to warn the old advisor, then she looked back to the Earl and asked, "Do I have to know you?"

Eyes widened, and gasps could be heard all over; the emperor didn't do well hiding his amusement with his fingers. By that time, Lady Constance already managed to force Vance to sit down.

Amelia already conditioned herself to handle such a situation when she received an invitation from the emperor that demanded her presence at the Gathering. For years, she downplayed her achievements and gave all the credit to the people who helped her. She wanted as little attention as possible so she could move freely, away from the scrutinizing eyes of other nobles and aristocrats, as well as potential people who wanted her dead just like her parents.

Earl Levi swallowed. It took him a while to answer as his fingers stumbled to take his handkerchief from his pocket to dry his face with, "Tell me… Sir, is there a need to know you?"

"You bra—"

"Call me a brat one more time and I might—" Amelia paused. All the time staying with the Mulfords during her developing years gained her a bit of their temper. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and gathered her scattered patience together. "A Florence doesn't need to know everybody; however, everybody needs to be aware of House Florence—" Amelia's eyes wandered across the crowd, "—and that is me, not 'brat' but Amelia Cicely Florence. You can call me Duchess from now on."

The emperor, who was then sipping wine, almost choked at the young lady's remarks against the Earl. This time, his eyes pierced Amelia with a seriousness she couldn't understand. He was sarcastic and smiling just a while ago. But, despite that, he was obviously amused.

Amelia stood her ground. There's no way she's going to be embarrassed on her first public appearance. She must be true to her House—a beautiful red rose with her thorns.

Augustine's eyes wandered Amelia's entirety, and he couldn't look more satisfied. The interest was evident that stares were exchanged amongst those who noticed.

Why wouldn't he be? The duchess was about the right age—beautiful, intelligent, and ripe for the picking. And with her name behind her, any practical family in power would want to take her as a bride.

"Stand your ground, Cice," she reminded herself.

There was a deafening silence, followed by whispers that got louder by the second. Amelia looked around and felt relieved to see approving nods from the other families.

"Thi-this is ridiculous!" The earl's face looked like a ripe tomato.

Amelia remained still, not saying a word, staring at the flustered Earl intently just like how Elias Mulford, Duke Mulford's eldest son, taught her in case someone tried to talk her down. While she was in the care of House Mulford, the duke's sons treated her like a stubborn little sister who always got her way and parries with her whenever they're back from border patrol.

"Silence is deafening," Elias used to say.

'Okay, for the final touches,' Amelia thought. She began tapping the pommel of her sword with her forefinger. It may not be noticeable to some but to the people closely watching her, they considered it a nice touch and smiled at its sight.

The air throughout the banquet hall drastically changed. The whispers died down, and only silence remained. The stares exchanged and thrown were more piercing than before. And while Duke Mulford couldn't be any prouder as he sat next to the duchess, the Earl tempted to push his worst luck a little further.

"Y-you–I mean Duchess," he emphasized the duchess part so much that Amelia wanted to punch him in the face instead so they can be done with it.

To hell with the views of other people. House Florence belonged to no one, not even the emperor. So why should she be subjected to this kind of mockery and judgment? It wasn't as if she laid unproductive for years—she met with people and connected with them. She rebuilt her duchy. And from what Amelia knew, it wasn't like the emperor to make entertainment out of her.

"To carry such an unladylike thing with you. How do you expect to marry and bear heirs with that attitude of yours? You would be lucky if someone voluntarily wishes to marry you."

Amelia almost let out a laugh.

"Is a woman only useful when she spreads her legs and pushes out another person? And this thing that you so-called unladylike is an insult to every knight in here."

"Ha! Maybe you, Duchess, are an insult to the knights. Carrying that sword around like you know the meaning of it."

Amelia opened her mouth, but the emperor beat her to it.

"Have you been living under a rock? I knighted the Duchess years ago, Earl Levi, at Duke Mulford's castle, in recognition of her great swordsmanship and contribution to the steady growth of her duchy. It might be a hereditary knighthood but it was well-deserved nonetheless." The emperor smiled auspiciously. "Do you think, perhaps, that this was a wrong decision of mine?"

"Ah, of course not, Your Highness." The Earl looked down at his sweaty hands to think of his way out. It must've dawned upon him that arguing further was futile. The emperor clearly favored the duchess, and the duchess seemed to enjoy playing with him and embarrassing him and his family to others.

Earl Levi loathed the feeling, but he won't be satisfied until he returned the same shame the brat of a duchess dawned upon him. "What I meant was, to be a duchess is no ordinary responsibility, but to be a knight as well? It's commendable but not practical. She needs to be able to serve her husband and look after the welfare of her children to ensure that House Florence continues its legacy."

"So, you are saying?" the emperor coaxed. It's common knowledge that the Earl sent marriage proposals to marry off his sons to families way beyond his reach. Even Emperor Augustine could not grasp the Earl's need for power, as he had no means to acquire it or enough motive to rebel against the throne.

Was it just pure greed or something—someone—else?

"So wh-what I'm saying is that she should find a husband who wouldn't mind her absence and—" he was cut off by the emperor saying,

"There's no need for that. Tonight I have decided to announce that the Duchess is the most suitable lady to become the next Empr—"

"I—" someone's voice rose from the crowd, and everyone looked around to see who it was, "—volunteer to be the duchess' husband." The emperor's eyes widened when he recognized who was walking from the other side of the hall.

Amelia looked bewildered, and her mouth gaped. Her poise destroyed in a blink of an eye. With the number of people present and the growing murmurs, she could not distinguish where the voice was coming from.

"WHO SAID THAT?!" Duke Mulford roared as he slammed his hand on the table again, his wine glass tipped over.

The duchess flinched at the sudden uproar. It was a rare sight to see the duke so mad in public. But even the emperor stood from the absurdity.

"Oh, my…" she heard her lady-in-waiting whispered, and Amelia followed to where Constance's eyes pointed her.

Heads turned, and scrutinizing eyes followed the tall, slightly rugged, slightly tanned man with the most beautiful amber eyes Amelia ever stared at—they look almost… nolstalgic—that passed through the enormous crowd that gathered since the Earl made his accusations.

"Clement! You bastard!" Duke Mulford's secretary and three of his personal knights had trouble containing the massive duke.

"Duke Clement! What is the meaning of this?!" The emperor questioned with clenched teeth and a tighter grip on his sword, but the Duke of House Clement seemed to have a world of his own as he continued to shorten the space between him and the Duchess.

'What is this feeling? Why is this happening?' Amelia felt nauseous all of a sudden.

It might be the noise, the heat that this whole commotion ended up with, the built-up rage from the confrontation, or the man that hasn't taken his alluring eyes off of her. And on her side was the duke of House Mulford, ready to slice the man in half then the emperor whose hand just landed on the handle of his sword—still, this man's smile remained unfazed.

All she wanted was to introduce herself properly to the other dukes and take her seat as the legal duchess of her House, but little did she know the emperor had other motives for inviting her. And what was the emperor about to say before this man interrupted him?

"The Earl here said that the duchess needs a husband who will not mind her work and responsibilities even if she couldn't tend to him—I might be that kind of person you're looking for, duchess." Duke Clement was just a few feet away from the frozen and stiff Amelia.

Amelia didn't know what happened in the next few seconds that quickly went by, but by the time she came to her senses, the duke's arm already slithered its way around her waist with the other hand cupping her face.

"I am Alexander Clement, my duchess, Duke of House Clement of Thuenia," he whispered as he finally closed the gap between their lips.

Everyone gasped and sounds of unsheathed swords sounded everywhere. But before Duke Mulford's knights and the others could get close to Alexander and Amelia, a group of men all garbed in black uniform quickly surrounded them. They were Alexander's so-called Shadow Knights.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He distanced himself with a smug look on his face that made the young duchess stiffen. "I'll come and visit you soon in Osmea, my duchess," Amelia blinked fast as his breath warmed her ears. Still stiff like a log, her mind went blank. With the sudden twists and turns of events, her consciousness left her no choice but to slowly creep out of her as she watched the back of the man who took her first slowly vanished from her sight.