'Leave. Now.'

"Lia—Duchess…" Vance placed a hand on top of hers, "I think it would be best to tell us in detail why you decided as such once your council is complete. How about we decide who will replace the others this morning, and then resume after luncheon?" Amelia turned to her advisor and then to the others who nodded in agreement.

It's a sound suggestion from Vance and a practical one. She wouldn't want to repeat the same thing twice when she could just say it at once.

Amelia leaned closer to the table; her fingers intertwined together on top of a small pile of documents in front of her. With another deep inhale, she faced her council and started taking in suggestions of who to replace who.

"I'm thinking of Mister Beauchant as Master of Trades… His connection to the Kingdom of Toutis will be helpful to us in the future." Amelia noted after some time.

"Wouldn't Count Whitt be a better candidate? Trading is their family's business." Count Royfield noted after looking at his roster of names jotted down.

"Hmm… I don't want their family to be overly—I don't know, connected? I mean, his father was a former Knight's Commander—a celebrated one with a tongue that can ascend any knight he took interest into a higher rank. His son who will be his heir is my knight, and his daughter my lady-in-waiting. I don't want them hogging the power too widely."

"It does seem like so now that you've put it in that way," he replied before slashing the name from his list. The others didn't much protest her suggestion, so it didn't take long before the position was filled. Lycken Beauchant has traveled and managed businesses as much as Arabella's family; and with a strong desire to belong, he is motivated by it alone.

As for the so-called Border Guardians, Amelia thought of reinstating Reignold, but she just blurted out something about giving their family too many connections and she can't possibly take it back. She'll have Maude decide on it.

"Marchioness Berdwell, any suggestions for the remaining two positions?" Maud was too occupied tapping the side of her thumb against the paper to answer Amelia. Traditionally, only titled individuals were allowed to join House Florence's council. Jude Colt doesn't have a title, but his father was ennobled as a Baron for his contributions, and ennobled individuals can't pass the title to their heirs.

With Amelia appointing Lycken Beauchant as part of the council, Maud had been brooding since. She must be thinking about how it will affect the people's perception of the council and shift the balance of power. Marquess Charlis and Marquess Farbton's families have been guarding the borders for generations since the earliest rulers that the position became their birthright. Stripping them of it would be equal to stripping them of their titles. But since they chose to stray from the path that their ancestors paved with the duchess' ancestors, there's certainly no telling why she should still accommodate them.

"Maybe… we should hear them out first why they decided to skip this meeting?" Maud lifted her head.

Amelia thought of that too, but there have been too many incidents that the three of them—all on good terms with her aunt's husband—have been questioning her authority and plastering right in her face the so-called 'good deeds' of Baron Walton that she should see as an example, and this was the last straw.

They've enjoyed far too much of their privilege—something that her ancestors paved the way to achieve.

"I am giving them a chance by not stripping them of their titles. They were given the position because House Florence trusts them. And what did they do?" Amelia decided and there's no way she's retracting her words. "If none of you will recommend anyone, then I recommend Sir Lewis Grafton. He's my father's knight and now commander of the Third Division. He knows the deepest parts of the forests and has a good footing with the other commanders and has great leadership skills. I am sure you're already aware of his capabilities seeing that you've known about him longer than I do."

"Lewis is… Lewis is a good candidate, Duchess. But guarding the borders—knowing the deepest of Osmea's forests—isn't the only thing the Border Guardians do. Crafting relations to the neighboring duchies is but a small part as well." Maud sighed heavily. Usually, things like these would make Amelia retrace her steps and compromise with a better one where everyone agreed. And though it made her feel guilty, she swallowed it and went ahead. It's how a ruler should be.

"If it's crafting relations you're worried about, Maud, then that shouldn't be a problem. And as someone knowledgeable enough, I'd leave you the task of choosing someone for the southern borders." Maud opened her mouth but quickly closed it too before she nodded slowly, staring at the piece of parchment and ink in front of her. Then, Amelia continued, "Also, I want to add another member to the council."

"Another member? Why the need to? The positions are already filled." It was Jude Colt, and everyone's eyes fell on Amelia, waiting for her answer.

"Uncle Vance may be away for some time so he wouldn't be able to address his duties as much."

"You're replacing your advisor?" Count Royfield leaned over for a whisper. They didn't know why he was whispering but the opinions and replies came in low voices too.

"It's not that I'm replacing him. Uncle Vance is still my advisor. It's just that… with his future absence, this might affect the decisions of the Council and delay some things."

"You're going about it in a roundabout way, but the point is, you're still replacing him with someone."

"It's… I… Well, if that's how it seems." Amelia almost rolled her eyes as she shook her head. She talked about this matter with her advisor some nights ago, and though there was a bit of reluctance on his side, she managed to talk him through it.

"What is this matter that you have to be absent about anyway?" the Keep's head couldn't help but be curious.

"I just have some… familial matters that needed overseeing."

"Uncle Vance's family is in Pradour. This brings me to our second agenda." Amelia sounded so absolute while the other's eyes fell sympathetically, and if not, stunned, at the revelation.

"You're from Pradour? Heavens, Pradour's on their way to hell as we speak. Who knows when it'll all blow up?" Maud leaned over from the other side of the table before she leaned back and waved her hand all over, murmuring things that not everyone understood.

"And…" Amelia emphasized taking the Marchioness' attention. "Since Uncle Vance and my mother, the late Duchess Priscilla, came here as entourage for that empire's princess, I feel obligated to help the family I might have there. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner when I've been hearing—and reading—news about their internal disputes. But now that things have slowly escalated, I want to help as much as I can."

"No, Lia…" Vance's hand lay on top of Amelia's arm.

"It's okay, Uncle," she whispered, placing her hand on top of his. "A part of my family is there too, somewhere. I want to do this." As Vance slowly took his hand back, Amelia hinted at a small glint of conflict in her advisor's eyes that he brushed off with one of his understanding smiles. Something is bothering him, she's just so sure about it.

"And how are you going to do this? I mean, how are you going to offer help? It's not like we can keep refugees from Pradour nor can we aid them financially—we don't even know what kind of help we can offer when we already have our hands full keeping afloat this season."

"Mister Colt, your worries are unnecessary. There is still plenty of time for us to gather enough to help significantly, but I do wish that we can help the one who's already with us," Amelia looked at Vance again. "I recently made a friend with someone whose family once was from Pradour and has agreed to help me track down my mother's. I know it's their tradition to cut all familial ties once married, but I can't fathom to think that they may be suffering too."

"Priscilla?" Vance spoke for the first time since she mentioned helping his family.

"Yes. It has come to mind recently, that I didn't know much about my mother. And the Keep's records seemed a bit lacking it despite every duke and duchess of Osmea's lives recorded in detail." The duchess looked straight at Count Royfield who shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

"The late duchess was…" the Count cleared his throat, "was a commoner and from a different empire—one that's a whole ocean away. That's a first for our history books. She's not one to talk of herself either, so she only told us enough. And unfortunately," Amelia noted that the Count made a glance at the advisor beside her, "the fire took that from us as well."

"As Uncle Vance told me. It is quite unfortunate," Amelia sighed, slightly contented with the Keep's head's answer for now. "Anyway, Uncle…" she turned to face her advisor, "House Florence will help you throughout all this. Your service to our family—to me—cannot even begin to be repaid by just this."

"Even just the thought is enough, Lia. Thank you." Vance slowly bobbed his head and flashed another one of his usual smiles and after that was settled, Amelia advised everyone that the guestrooms and the eastern drawing room have been prepared for them.

"Spend your time however you like, everyone. We will resume the talk once everyone's present," she said and was the first one out of the hall followed by Vance then her ladies-in-waiting who were waiting outside, seated on a long-cushioned bench across the hall.

With servants and whoever came and went from the palace, it didn't take half a yawn before someone was banging on Amelia's doors.

"Just who in their hecking mind is banging at the door and how could my brother allow this?!" Arabella's eyes shot to where the sound came from as she gathered her skirt, thumping her way to the door's knob. "Hey!" she shouted before she hit the broad chest of the so-called Guardian of the North.

"Marquis Charlis, wa-wait. Y-you can't go inside," stammered a knight who had his hand on the Marquis' arm.

"Take your hands off me!" Charlis grunted, forcefully pulling his arm away. He then looked in front of him to find Amelia's lady assassin glaring. "And mind your manners, young lady!" He snarled and Arabella was about to reciprocate his kindness with one of her own when the duchess' voice echoed through the room.

"Arabella, manners," she ordered, and like a tamed beast, with one last harrumph, went back to where she sat earlier.

"What is this that I hear, duchess?" he asked, bewilderment and madness all muddled into one expression. "You're giving our seats as guardians to… to a measly knight? Who—what? — guarded you on few of your trips?"

"Oh, I thought you were somewhere very far away as stated in your letter of absence for today's council, Marquis. Seeing how put together you look, it seemed you're not that far from the palace at all."

"Stop these childish games and act like you're a duchess!"

"I am acting like a duchess. And for your information, Marquis, I've stopped being a child the very moment I stood in front of my burning home years ago." An awkward silence filled the room. Even Charlis took a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions again. "And the last time I checked; I wasn't a duchess good enough for the lot of you to respect so you didn't show up at the council meeting. And just to be clear, Marquis Charlis, Sir Lewis Grafton is a trusted knight of my father's. And I'd bet that he knows his way around the borders better than you'd ever be. Have you been to the outskirts of Osmea? Have you befriended the tribes that live close to our borders? As far as I know, you're too busy dealing with the border's affairs 'internally' that all you do is drink and gamble and drink some more. Wasting your people's taxes." Charlis' face twisted. "Care to tell me otherwise?"

"How dare you—this is tyranny!" The marquis pointed a finger and threatened to step forward when Christa and Arabella got in his way. It was then that Ancel came through the door. With a slight nod and an apologizing face, he walked towards the furious marquis and told him that he needed to leave right away, or he would be forced to drag him out.

"After all these years I helped your father run this duchy, this is how you'd repay me?" Amelia felt her eye twitch a little. It took all her self-control not to slam her hands on the table and shout back at the marquis.

Breathing deeply to calm herself, Amelia leaned towards her table and with a cool voice, said, "My father is dead, and the duchy paid you handsomely for your services—more than you ever deserved, to be honest." She emphasized the word 'paid', "You and your family wouldn't be in any position if my ancestors didn't put you there in the first place. Now, how dare you question my authority?"

The marquis' mouth slightly gapped. When he turned around to see that the duchess' ladies-in-waiting were looking at him, he clenched his fists and exhaled sharply. On the verge of his anger, he suddenly lurched towards Amelia, but he wasn't fast enough since Ancel was able to grab his arm before he reached the table.

Without even flinching, the duchess looked Charlis dead in the eyes and said in an eerily calm tone, "Leave. Now." When he resisted, Amelia turned to her knight assassin. "Ancel, escort the Marquis out. He seemed to have lost his way."

"Let me go!" he exclaimed, and when the assassin knight didn't heed, he turned to him, and between gritted teeth, he said, "How dare you drag me out? Your family's but a mercenary who sucked up to the late duke's wife."

"I am asking you nicely, Marquis Charlis," Ancel was taller, so he leaned to whisper but it was clear in both the sibling's eyes that all they want to do is devour Charlis until all that was left of him are pickings of his bones. "You wouldn't want to cause a scandal here and be the topic of much, much, worst rumors. With everyone here against you, you know nothing will come good from your rage." Charlis glared at him once more and then looked back to Amelia and back to the knight.

"Get your filthy hands off me!" he swatted the knight's hand when he reached for his arm. And though he ordered Ancel with a softer tone, one look at the duchess again and he's all in rage. "You—!" he pointed at the duchess without finishing his sentence. "This will not be the end of me, I'm telling you. When your uncle hears about this, you'd be wanting me back in an instant."

"Looking forward to it."

Amelia stared long and hard at the man in front of him. If the room wasn't tense enough from their quarrel, it's even more so now that no one's talking. Even breathing seemed inappropriate; breaking the silence seemed like a sin.

Finally, with one last tug from Ancel, the marquis exhaled sharply, fixing his clothes. Amelia gave him a side-eye before bringing her attention back to her table. From where he was heading, the duchess could hear him yapping nonsense. And with all the commotion he made, the servants walking through the hall couldn't help but take a peek at the opened doors.

"Phew," Laila was the one to break her composure first. "That was—I didn't expect that one," she said, leaning back on the couch.

"Are you alright, Lia?"

"That was nothing, Constance. I've always known him to be that kind of man. I'm thankful that he's off my back now." Amelia went back to reading the now slightly crumpled paper she was holding.

"Do you think this is the right way to do this kind of thing? His anger is understandable given that being a Guardian is his family's pride. Lia, it's…"

"I don't think there's a right way to do this kind of thing at all," Amelia butted in. The last thing she wanted to hear right now is a lecture on how she should deal with things. "It's whether how extreme the measure is taken. I can't be the soft-hearted duchess hiding behind my advisor's back forever. They've had enough liberty to do their bidding, and now is the end of it for them. They've chosen their sides and I've chosen mine. It wasn't their call to make." Without knowing, Amelia was looking fiercely at Constance and the others went meek at the sight of it. The lady-in-waiting smiled courteously at her, bowing her head a little.

"I understand…" she said, and the duchess went back to her reading.

When the silence was too much to bear even for her, she sighed and told her ladies-in-waiting to leave her be for a moment. She said she was tired and will need all the energy for her afternoon affairs. There wasn't an objection like there used to be, and the ladies stood one by one. They curtsied and turned round to head to the door in a line.

Just as Christa opened the door, a man was about to knock.

"Is the Duchess here?" he asked shyly.

Perfect, Amelia thought when she knew who it was, a distraction.