'I’ll just call you Lex then'

The door to young Amelia's room flung open, and Vance and Nathaniel entered. They had just returned from their travel to the Capital, and the moment they went past the threshold, the young lady ran up to them, pouting. She ranted about how she was mad because she thought that the two gentlemen would be late for her birthday.

The duke laughed, apologizing, as he reached out to young Amelia and carried her. Vance was behind them, holding a box wrapped in black with the symbol of the Capital's best seamstress. Amelia pointed it to the secretary, and he smiled, bringing his forefinger against his smirking mouth.

Amelia giggled in excitement. In a few hours, the ball would start in celebration of her tenth birthday. Most of her guests have already arrived. She wanted to go and greet them, but her mother told her otherwise.

"Mother, look! Father brought me a gift!" she said as she squirmed out of the duke's arm and into her mother's lap. The duke had promised her a dress specially made for her to wear on her birthday as a present.

"Why don't you have Ms. Carmen open it for you and try it on? I want to see it too," Priscilla smiled, caressing her protruding belly.

Ms. Carmen was Amelia's governess who came early to help with preparing young Amelia for the party. It's her first time being out in public as Priscilla always kept her within the palace grounds and out of the public's eyes. For an heir of a great House, introducing her early to society would've been ideal. The earlier she knew about society's ways, the more it would be easier for her to navigate through it when she's older. But the duchess insisted that there's plenty of that in the future.

Young Amelia went around her bed and tugged on her governess' sleeve to let her see what was inside the box when Ms. Carmen received to open it at the small table nearby.

Lifting the lady up for a quick look, Amelia gasped. She looked back at her expectant father and flashed a wide smile. Inside the box was the most beautiful dress Amelia has laid her eyes upon. It's full of frills and pleats and ribbons in a lighter hue of red. It's the dress Amelia's been dreaming of wearing for her birthday.

Overjoyed, young Amelia ran to her father and gave him a hug.

"I'm glad you like it," tight arms wrapped around the little lady, and she closed her eyes, comforted by her father's warm embrace. "What a birthday present for the lady. The ----- sure is a vile woman." Young Amelia's eyes slowly opened. The familiar voice of her father suddenly turned croaky, and there were a bunch of other small whispers around. Confused, Amelia looked up, and as soon as she did, she pushed herself away, screaming, her face horror-struck.

In front of her was her father, smiling, burning, then his smile vanished when she didn't reply. Worried, he asks her what's wrong. He reached out to young Amelia, but she kept on backing away until she felt the solid wood of her dresser; the lady winced, yelling the words 'no' again and again. Her head low, with both her hands protecting it.

She could hear a commotion and doors opening and closing. There were also people shouting. She felt someone's hands on her even though she was alone.

Alone and about to be devoured by the monster that came to her house.

No—it's not a monster. It's her father!

Her sweet and dear father reached out to her. His burning face wondered why she wouldn't come to him, asking what was wrong with his little princess.

"No, no, no," Amelia said almost in a whisper now, tears welled up in her eyes, but the heat of the fire dried it in seconds. "Father, please, no," she shook her head, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked away, hiding her face, her eyes shut tightly.

Quick seconds passed, and the whispers died down. Thinking that it was all over once she opened her eyes again, Amelia was proved wrong.

Her father was still burning, smiling this time. His hands still reaching out for her. Amelia sobbed again as she shook her head. She curled into a ball and tried to peek at where she remembered her mother was. But as soon as she looked at the side of her bed, she screamed her lungs out. Sitting there was her beloved mother, smiling at her, still stroking her belly, also burning.

"No!" she cried louder. "No, no, no, Mother. No…" Amelia tried to crawl towards her, but she kept on going back to where she initially was, afraid of burning herself too.

Then she heard the words, "It's okay. It's okay. I'm here."

Young Amelia looked around, whimpering, trying to find where the gentle, soothing voice that seemed reassuring came from. She scampered away from where she was and tried to reach out her hand at nothingness. "Don't leave me, please," she sobbed again, tearless. "Get me out of here. Please, please, please. I don't want to die. Please."

"I'm here. It's okay, Cice. I'm here, I'm here…."

As if a hole opened in the seemingly dark, dark room, light shone, and Amelia saw the same bright and clear amber eyes that kept close to her that night in the forest.

"It's you." Amelia said in a breathy voice with half-opened eyes. She reached out to touch his face, "The boy in the fore—" but they weren't in the forest since past the boy were the worried face of Arabella and the crying faces of Laila and Christa.

And then her uncle Vance came when he should be back at the palace. Followed by Ayland, who hurriedly went beside her, still in his robe, clutching his medicine bag. Lastly, Duke Mulford and Elias—but they should be arriving in a few days.

"Cice?" Amelia felt a trembling hand against her cheek, "Are you awake? It's okay now. You were just dreaming. I'm here," he whispered as he pulled her closer to him, rocking back and forth slowly. But as soon as the duchess looked back to who spoke, her head suddenly started hurting.

Her heart raced, and so was her breath. The throbbing pain in her head was second to none. Amelia screamed with his eyes shut tightly. She wanted to yank her hair, thinking that it might help ease the feeling, but strong arms restrained her. When everything was too much, her surrounding darkened again, and with the last cry of 'no,' the duchess fainted.

**********

With a tensed jaw, Alexander stormed out of the duchess' room. It hurt him to see her so vulnerable. To hear her scream her heart out. He knew that the bottled-up agony she felt that night would someday explode, and it would break her into pieces and the duke wanted to be the one to pick her up. But he couldn't do that just by simply looking out for her anymore, for simply observing at a distance.

That night seven years ago, he was there. He was invited to her party, but he didn't care because he thought it was stupid.

Buttering up to the other nobles when he's already a duke was ridiculous. Why should he try and please them when it should be them trying to please him?

His sister just left him a few weeks ago, and all he got was the Council of Elders to guide him, and they nitpicked everything.

It was annoying.

When the party started, he looked at the young heir happily smiling at the dais with an irritated look. He wondered why she got to be an heir when his sister left not to be one? She was just a few years younger than him, but why did he have to shoulder everything? Alexander wanted to stay at Thuenia. He was feeling exhausted from all the cramming and training he had to do to be a good ruler—not to mention all the pressure—and he didn't find joy in traveling.

It was really annoying.

The duke and his lovely wife went around greeting people, showing young Amelia off. At some point, the young lady whined and asked that her father pick her up, and he did.

But by the time the duke and her daughter came to greet the young duke and his council, the duchess crouched so they could meet eye to eye. At first, Alexander hated the closeness, but when the duchess patted his head and told him how proud his parents would be for doing great as a young duke, Alexander's expression changed.

Everyone pressured him to be a duke worthy of his House, but no one ever told him that he was good enough.

Priscilla, the duchess, had crystal blue eyes like the sparkling sea. Her long lashes fluttered like gentle waves, and he stared at her in awe. He swallowed once and shyly turned his head to the side.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Duke Clement." the duchess pulled her hand to her chest and straightened herself. "I shouldn't have done that, should I?" She apologized when he ignored her the first time. He was so taken aback by the sudden motherly gesture that he didn't notice young Amelia already beside him.

She tugged the sleeves of his coat and said, "I also apologize if Mother offended you, uhm…." Young Amelia trailed off, not knowing his name.

Speechless, the young duke stared at the young lady without blinking. Young Amelia was prettier up close than he thought. She has bow-shaped lips and long lashes that fluttered with every blink. It should be impossible to have silky-looking hair in the winter air, but hers were striking silver in color. Her soft curls that fell just past her shoulders looked even better because of her ruby-studded hair ornament. Alexander wanted to feel the softness of it, but he was so stunned he couldn't move a muscle.

And her eyes—she has the same eyes as the duchess. Compared to his, Amelia's was as bright as the blue sky on a cloudless morning. And though he's older by years, she stood only a tad shorter than he was without wearing heeled shoes.

Caught in the moment, Alexander flashed an awkward smile and softly said, "It's Alexander."

"Lexander?" Amelia repeated, tilting her head in confusion. The loud music behind them drowned the young duke's voice. "That's a little mouthful," she said, covering her mouth for a giggle. "I'll just call you Lex then." The young heir continued with her hand still tugging on his sleeve.

"That's Duke Clement, my dear," her father corrected softly, squeezing her shoulders a little. Immediately, young Amelia took back her hand, apologized, and curtsied, saying that she didn't know.

"No, it's alri—" the young duke wasn't able to finish what he was about to say when another noble took the attention of the couple. Amelia looked back at who spoke, and she bowed her head lightly, turning back only to wave at him goodbye.

Alexander sighed, then he felt annoyed again. He shook his head, scowled, and stormed out of the hall. He shouldn't be enjoying himself. He should be furious because he didn't want to be there in the first place.

One of the council members called him irritatedly. He even locked eyes with Amelia on his way out, and for a moment, he wished that she would call out to him and maybe he'd stop and listen. She's the celebrant, after all. But she didn't. Amelia only looked at him, which ticked him even more.

It was extra annoying!

Everything annoyed Alexander.

Since he didn't know where to go, Alexander went out of the hall through the balcony at the far end. He wandered around the expansive garden decorated with lights. The winter air engulfed him, and he hugged himself, shivering a little. He forgot to grab his cloak from Symon, who's fondly going around talking to other people with his father.

He couldn't wait for them to leave.

Alexander remembered finding the stables and checking his horse, the one that he was so insistent on bringing when a supply carriage arrived. It was somewhat late into the night, and considering how the duke's young daughter was going around greeting well-wishers, she might already be exhausted sooner than later, so the celebration's bound to end anytime soon.

Some crates were taken to the kitchen, and some were kept outside. Alexander didn't pay any attention to it because food supply came and went to the kitchen regularly. He also didn't mind the men who came out last from the carriage that kept their heads low, pulling their oversized hoods, hiding half of their faces. They wore thick cloaks and gloved hands but didn't carry anything with them and just stayed in a dark corner, sitting on the grass, talking. A servant then came out to give them something to eat, then they were left alone again.

They must be laborers or something so the young duke continued with his ways.

Listening to the last dance of the night, Alexander went around the stables and back to the grand hall. By the time Duke Nathaniel announced the end of their daughter's celebration and thanked everyone who came and offered their wishes and brought gifts, Alexander was one of the few people who immediately left.

Alone in his carriage, Alexander took off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt as he sat comfortably, bringing his feet up on the seat and leaning back at the carriage wall. Looking at House Florence's palace through the window, the young duke was thankful that his ordeal was over. Alexander tried to get some shut-eye, and the rocking carriage lulled him to deep sleep. But Alexander's supposedly peaceful night was broken when the carriage came to a sudden halt and threw him off his seat. He cursed and opened his window to see what the deal was. He didn't know what time it was or how long he'd been out.

Shouting at the coachman, Alexander was surprised at the number of horses that passed by like a gust of wind, almost hitting him. He also saw his men looking frantic and his Council out of their carriages with horrified looks. He called out to them, asking, but everyone was preoccupied. When he finally turned his back, his shoulders slumped, and his jaws dropped. There were cries everywhere then a bell echoed throughout.

Thick smoke went up the sky and covered the glimmering stars fast. Hairs on his nape stood in attention as a shiver ran throughout his body. And as if the atmosphere weren't enough to be disheartened about, thunder roared, and lightning followed on a chilly winter night. The duke's council were all shouting at their knights, ordering them to go back and help.

It was only then that Alexander realized what could cause such a massive fire.

The only structure big and tall enough to create such a single towering fire would be the palace since the church was in a different direction—

The duchess—Amelia!