'I can navigate the mountains with a blindfold'

A wooden floor creaked with even the slightest movement; a musty smell of unused furniture.

It was dark, and the wind entered through the small crevices on the wall. The windows were partially stuck open, wetting the floor from the rain that just passed.

Tight hands caged young Amelia's hand; it was cold and wrinkly. As she looked up at the boy who took her away, she noticed his shivering shoulders, yet she didn't have the voice to tell him to get rid of the wet cloak that must've become heavy. Amelia followed him all over the house, looking for a light source. The boy kept on muttering something, but the ringing in her ears stayed for a while.

Not long after, distracted, Amelia was surprised when the boy suddenly picked her up and sat her on the nearby wooden table. When he turned away from her, like her hand had a mind of its own, she quickly grabbed the hood of the boy's cloak and mumbled the word, "no," the best that her dried throat permitted her.

"I'm not going anywhere. You're safe here. I'm just going to search for matches or something I can use so I can lit up the fireplace. I think we're in the kitchen, so I'm just going to be searching around here." His voice cracked a little, but it soothed Amelia enough to let go. She wrapped her arms around her and kept her knees together.

Flinching at the slightest sound that came from the forest, young Amelia kept her mind occupied by following every movement the boy made the moment her eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness.

A few minutes more, the boy exclaimed and hurried to Amelia's side to pick her up from the table and brought her with him to the living room. There were no couches or chairs, so she had to sit on the floor with her arms around her folded knees.

The boy salvaged some leftover firewood stored in a metal basket at the side of the fireplace. The match didn't work a few times, and when it did, the wood was then a problem. And since it rained and mornings in the forest were cold, the wood barely reacted to the fire. But with a bit of patience and an endless huffing, the wood kindled, and soon enough, Amelia's eyes widened at the sight of warmth. She looked over the boy who triumphantly fisted the air. With the light illuminating enough, the boy looked back at young Amelia with a broad grin.

But as soon as Amelia's gaze trailed to look at his eyes, she woke up.

The duchess groaned and twisted in bed. She laid face down on her pillow and screamed, irritated. When she seemed satisfied, she kneeled on her bed and whipped her hair back. Amelia looked around, then at the nearby clock.

It had been three days since she went with Sybil to town. She wanted to go back again and visit the institutions she's supporting, but she was suddenly drowned with a mountain of reports from Ancel, Arabella, and others.

Amelia had been going to the training grounds to train the basics of close counter combat again, but it was no fun after a day or two since the new ones were too wary of her. The older knights couldn't do anything about it, and only they and Ancel sparred with her.

Inhaling deeply, Amelia cleared her thoughts as she let the air out slowly. She got out of bed and took an early cold bath. She always had water drawn after her evening bath just in case. By the time she was done changing into her casual dress, a knock had broken her peace.

"Duchess, we're coming in." It's Laila.

"Come in," Amelia said from her dresser as she brushed her slightly wavy hair due to the bun she's been wearing for days now. It's just so comfortable since her hair's not in the way of her work. Amelia couldn't imagine how other ladies could always keep their hair loose.

"Please excuse our intrusion. Oh, you're dressed so early," noted Laila.

"Aren't you going to train today?" Arabella asked as she helped Laila arrange Amelia's bed.

"They're no fun. Do you have any news on what happened to Esdras? I haven't seen him."

When Amelia went to the training grounds the next day, almost all the men behaved uncomfortably. Even the old ones barely talked to her and submitted to whatever she wanted. She asked what happened to Esdras, but no one dared to tell her. She also asked her old advisor about it during meals. He told her that he was punished and should not concern herself about it.

"I heard he was sent to the borders after receiving Mr. Vance's punishment." Amelia nodded at the reflection of Laila in her mirror.

'At least he's not dead,' Amelia thought. Then suddenly, the swollen cheeks and eyes of her former maid flashed in her mind; her disheveled hair and tied hands and feet still disturbed her.

Suspicious of the sudden silence from their duchess, the two ladies-in-waiting looked at each other. Arabella coaxed Laila to ask Amelia what bothered her, but the youngest one shook her head. The two kept pointing at each other for a while before the duchess spoke.

"I can see you; you know." the two ladies looked in the mirror where they saw Amelia's eyes directed at them. They showed an awkward smile, then Laila asked.

"Is Sir Esdras' punishment bothering you, Duchess? I can ask around if you want."

"Ah, no. It's nothing. Where is Constance, anyway?"

"Oh, she told us that she's leaving today to go home. Apparently, her fiancé is coming over. She's coming later to see you before she leaves."

Fiancé, huh? Amelia grew silent again. How long was it since she last met her own fiancé? The last letter she received was after her tea party. As a reply, she sent him a red ribbon then there was nothing after that. Maybe she should've sent a proper response.

The duchess shook her head. Before she thought of anything else, she better think of how to tell Arabella, and probably Ancel too, and her Uncle Vance about her engagement. And she has to do it fast, or they'd hear it from someone else—which would be the worst if it were to happen.

After their little talk, Constance knocked on the door.

"Good morning, duchess," the lady curtsied then proceeded to inform Amelia of her absence for a few days. "Before I came here, a messenger was at the door, so I brought over some letters intended for you."

"Thank you, Constance," Amelia said as the letters were handed to Laila to sort later.

"And this is from House Mulford."

"It's unc—I mean Duke Mulford's birthday soon!" the duchess took the blue envelope with the seal of a lion's head and carefully opened it.

"I'm afraid I couldn't come with you this time, duchess. As my visit to my parent's home would be of undetermined schedule." Constance lowered her head.

Amelia looked at her lady-in-waiting and forced a small smile. She's been with Constance the longest, and not having her around would be something she should get used to soon.

"Your would-be husband is more important now, Constance. You shouldn't feel sorry about it."

"Oh, duchess…" Amelia wasn't planning on being emotional so early in the morning, but her tears welled up before she knew it. Laila already started crying, and even the assassin Arabella had trouble keeping her emotions to herself.

The duchess chuckled, "This is not goodbye. We should be happily congratulating Constance, ladies." The others giggled too and wiped the side of their eyes and their cheeks.

As the clock stroke seven in the morning, Constance bade goodbye for the meantime and hugged the duchess, then her fellow ladies-in-waiting.

"I recommend having Lady Christa Berdwell to Aclador, Duchess. She would be able to give you practical pieces of advice just as well as her mother does."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Constance," with one last embrace, Amelia and the others watched as her carriage drove off through the garden and passed the palace gates.

Shortly after, Amelia and her ladies-in-waiting went down to have breakfast with Mr. Vance, where Amelia showed her advisor the invitation sent by Vernon. The advisor nodded and asked one servant to tell the messenger to have House Florence's seamstress come by later in the afternoon.

"But I don't need a new dress. I just had fittings, and they're already a lot." Amelia reasoned as soon as the servant was out. She doesn't want to go through another series of tedious and numbing fittings. Now that Constance left, no one would decide on the fabrics for her.

"Those dresses were for your outerwear and for your coming birthday. This is a different occasion. You don't want to dress so casually like some ordinary person now, do you?"

"But…" Amelia wanted to reason out some more, but her advisor was right. Aside from the Gathering and the tea party, she wasn't able to socialize with others because Mr. Vance attended all invitations sent to her. Plus, it's her first time again to Aclador since she came back from their care. "Alright..."

Soon after breakfast was over, Amelia excused herself to attend to the pile of paper left in her office at the eastern wing. Vance asked Laila to accompany him to a meeting since the duchess' youngest lady-in-waiting was quite insightful.

The set-up was perfect because then she would be alone with Arabella. Going through the reports would be much easier if the assassin reiterated it to her instead.

"Oh, it's good news coming from Brother Ayland," Arabella turned her head to her duchess, holding an opened letter with the seal of a snake dangling at the end of it. "It seems he's found the components in the poison I was given."

Arabella couldn't wait for the duchess to finish reading, so she got up and went around Amelia to take a look at the letter.

"It's something he couldn't say in writing, so that means we have to stop over to Bruiles to meet with him!"

"Aclador is at least two weeks worth of traveling, and Bruiles is about a week considering that we'd have to go through the capital."

"We'll use the mountain route and stop by nearby towns on the way. We have to be quick with the horses and might end up camping out, but—" Amelia spoke without a halt.

"Why do you have to make it sound so exciting? You don't even know if Mr. Vance would agree to let you go through the mountain."

"I can navigate the mountains with a blindfold. Remember, I used to camp out a lot when I was younger for my poison immunity?"

"Yes, when you were younger and guarded by the sword and shield of the empire."

The duchess huffed some air and placed the letter on the table. She leaned back on her chair and stared at the ceiling, considering all things.

Indeed, she's even more in danger now than she was a few years back. But she had to stop by Bruiles at all costs! And the only way to stay there for a couple of days was to leave earlier than the others. Going early's not a huge problem but telling her advisor would be. Even she didn't think that he'd allow her through the mountain route.

Or maybe she could request Ayland to come and get her, but then that defeats the purpose of going to Bruiles without being heavily guarded. In her mind, it should be an adventure.

"Are you saying that you siblings are no par with the sword and shield of the empire? You, a prodigal assassin?" Amelia knew that Arabella was very prideful of her stand as the prodigy of her family. For traditional Creador, though women were starting to gain recognition for their work recently, there were still some that believed women were inferior to men—fragile as a bubble, to be protected and housed—women like Arabella and herself had to work extra hard just to be recognized.

As the duchess thought, the lady assassin straightened her seat and scoffed, "I can take all of his men in one sweep."

"Then it's decided! I will talk to Uncle about it, and you back me up." Amelia clapped her hand and stood from her seat. "Let's go."

"Huh, what? Right now? To Mr. Vance?" Confused from the spur-of-the-moment decision of hers, Arabella partly stood up then went back to sit down, then up again. But her duchess was already at the door as she hesitated, so she had no choice but to follow her.

Reckless.

Reckless.

Reckless.

It's what ran through Amelia's head as she trailed her way to where Vance was. Knocking at the advisor's office door, she turned the knob around as she heard his permission to enter.

The room was minimally decorated. Expansive windows, thick dark red drapes, gold linings, and trimmings. A few small gold decorations, a portrait of her parents, her, Vance, and then one with all of them when the duchess was still little.

With a discreet inhale, Amelia swallowed and straightened her back. She had her hands together in front of her.

"Uncle Vance, we need to talk." The old advisor's expression turned serious as he adjusted his eyeglasses. He placed his pen on the table as his eyes went past the duchess and to Arabella, who was behind her as if asking what it was about. But Arabella gave him a shrugged shoulder.

"What's the matter, duchess?"

"Prince Ayland sent a letter inviting me to Bruiles. It seems he managed to identify the components of the poison used against me. I'd like to leave early and meet up with you at Aclador for the duke's birthday."

"As I have a lot of work to catch up on, I am afraid I cannot come with you to Bruiles. We could go there after."

"No… Uhm, I want to go there before Uncle Vernon's birthday. Arabella and Ancel will come with me. And… I'm also thinking of bringing Sir Lewis Grafton and trusted knights of his choosing."

Again, the advisor's eyes shifted from the duchess to the assassin, and Amelia's breathing hitched. Vance is a meticulous person, and mentioning Sir Lewis, her father's personal knight, might loosen him a bit.

"I am not… comfortable with this arrangement even with Sir Lewis with you."

Just as Amelia thought. However, she's not going to back down from this. She could be as stubborn if she wanted to.

"But Arabella…" she purposely let the sentence hang.

"I… uh… we, uh… Ancel and I would be there. I don't think the duchess would lack security with us around together with Sir Lewis."

Vance exhaled sharply. He took his glasses off and placed them on the table. As his eyes went from Amelia to Arabella and back to the duchess, he massaged his temples and let out a sigh.

"Send a messenger bird the moment you arrived there."

The duchess almost exclaimed from joy, yet she contained her triumphant glee. She tried too hard not to show it on her face so much, but the wide grin slowly surfaced, and there was no hiding it. She said her thanks with a wide smile and bright eyes even though there's a slight disappointment on her advisor's face.

As she turned around to leave, the duchess smile slowly faded as soon as Vance asked her something she had coming but was having trouble announcing.

"Is there something else you should tell me?" his voice was more hopeful than demanding, and it pricked Amelia's conscience.

"Ah… No, there's none, Uncle." She forced a smile and lightly bowed her head.

"I see…" Amelia's shoulders slumped when she heard her advisor's disappointed tone.

She swallowed a few times, her mind thinking of ways how to tell her advisor of her engagement to House Clement. He's probably aware of it for a while now, and prolonging the fact would either be at the duchess' advantage or disadvantage. But looking at it from a different perspective, there'd be a lot more disadvantages for her if she kept it to herself.

Arabella stopped halfway from opening the door when Amelia turned to face her advisor again and spoke, "Actually."

She fiddled with her fingertips to ease her shaking hands. Amelia's nervous, afraid, and embarrassed at the same time.

Nervous because it's such huge news that she should carefully choose her words for it. And afraid and embarrassed because what if Vance told her no? Or told her that she made a wrong decision and it will cost her more than what she bargained for? Or that Alexander might've just tricked her into agreeing, and now she can't back out of it?

"I—I said yes to House Clement's marriage proposal." She said with her head down and eyes closed.

"You did what?!" Amelia was expecting her advisor's voice to bounce off the wall, but it was Arabella's instead. Her quick steps towards her forced the duchess' eyes open, and by the time she did, Arabella was at arm's length, staring at her with bewildered eyes. "But why? When? Where? Did he force it on you when I left you both in the secret room? That basta—"

Amelia stayed quiet, and the lady assassin took it as a yes. Her mouth gaped, and the duchess felt sorry for Arabella too. She must've felt betrayed, but she wasn't there, and if she were, she'd tell her sooner too.

"Arabella, settle down." Vance leaned over to his desk and propped his clasped hands on the table by his elbows. "Thank you for telling me this, Lia."

'So he really knew,' Amelia thought as she stared at the unfazed expression of her old advisor.

"Do you like him?"

"It's not about me liking him. It's about how he could help us—help me."

"But do you like him?" Vance asked again, and Amelia was slightly caught off guard.

Does liking the duke mattered? She and her advisor had the same goal, to avenge House Florence, and she thought they were on the same page when she told about her decision to marry House Clement. But it seemed as if liking the man she promised to marry was equally important too.

"I don't… hate him."

"Yet." Vance threw a glare at her lady-in-waiting, but she didn't mind him. As expected of Arabella.

"Have you regained some of your memories when you were little?"

"I…" Amelia paused.

What does her memory have to do with her decision? With his approval? Everyone knew that she lost a part of it. So, why did Mr. Vance has to bring it up all a sudden?

"I don't think I've regained any of it." Vance nodded. He picked up his glasses again and placed them on himself.

"Thank you for being honest with me, duchess. And Arabella, make sure to take extra precautions for your trip. Duke Mulford's birthday is in a week and a half; I suggest you leave in a day or two. I will stop by Bruiles on the way to Aclador, so wait for us there."