'Princesses are priced commodities'

Riding all night from the Capital to Aclador was what Alexander exactly planned. Though he lacked sleep, reminding himself of what he was hurrying to House Mulford for kept him awake. He doesn't have the luxury of delaying his arrival for even a second because the only way his mind would be put at ease was to talk to Vernon. He only took small stops to eat what he brought with him and relieve himself—rest his horse a little—then he's off again to the northern part of the empire.

Just like any other duchy, Aclador's stoned fortress-like walls were lined with heavy defenses and manned with knights and on-duty military troops in their battle clothes. Aside from that, the ominous-looking snowy mountains of the north stood majestically at a distance. There were reports of people not getting back alive after challenging the mountain, not even their bones—stories, and legends came about because of those disappearances. Still, none was confirmed or denied by House Mulford.

"Name and state your purpose," a gnarly-looking man with a girth almost twice that of an average person snarled at Alexander. His scarred and hairy arms placed about his waist.

"I need to speak to Duke Verno—"

"Huh? Speak with the duke? Just who do you think you are?" the man came closer and tilted his head to see the duke's face partly hidden by his hood's shadow. But just when Alexander lifted his hand to pull his hood back, the man shouted at him to stop.

Alexander glared, but he just looked even more suspicious. Even the men at the nearby battlements went on defensive and drew their bows at the duke. As he changed his cloak to a common one, the only proof he's got of his identity was the crest on his belt, but making any sudden movements might bring even more misunderstandings.

"Name and state your purpose." The man repeated even louder than the first one. Alexander looked at the man directly as his jaw visibly tensed, trying to control himself. A few seconds more, and he would explode.

"Do you seriously not have a fucking idea who you're pointing your weapon at?" the duke said between gritted teeth as the guy raised his spear towards the duke to push his hood out of his face's way. But just as Alexander was about to push away the spear, a voice interrupted them.

"Duke Clement!" Everyone looked back immediately at the man mounted on a white stallion—a breed known to be bred by the Mulfords. "What brings you here?"

It's Piers Mulford, second son of Duke Vernon Mulford and three years younger than Alexander. He met him a few times on several occasions and has a reputation of being mischievous and willful.

"Du-duke Clement?" the man's voice trembled as he stared anxiously at Alexander after he was able to pull his hood off.

"Seems like you're having trouble. Need some help?" Piers teasingly asked.

Alexander annoyingly stared at him before turning his attention back to the vermin of a man cowering beneath him. The man forced an awkward smile as he apologized unendingly, bowing his head a tad deeper than the latter. The duke imagined him on the ground with his nose broken and mouth dripping with blood, but he didn't have time to waste on a nobody.

"Du-duke Clement… I apo-ap-apologize for my r-r-rudeness."

"You'd have your fucking eyeballs bulging the next time this happens again," Alexander said in an imposing voice loud enough that everyone who dared to point a weapon towards him broke their stance and looked at each other, nervous of what might happen to them since Piers witnessed it himself, then they walked back to their posts, some scratching the back of their heads. "Piers, don't you teach your gatekeepers some manners?" the man lowered his head even more. For a knight to be called a gatekeeper was one the most degrading insults.

"I apologize, Duke Clement. It seemed that some men forgot the moral code of House Mulford. Must be slacking off during training," Piers grinned with a menacing aura. "I'll make sure that they're properly trained this time."

Alexander nodded as he walked through the massive gates, whisking his cloak aside, giving the anxious men guarding it a glimpse of his House's crest clasped securely about the leather belt that shone faintly against the sun.

The second Mulford son loved to go around towns wearing commoner's clothing even if the sword that hung about his hips, and the horse he usually brought with him, proved otherwise. And just like Alexander, he also has his fair share of small fights here and there, calling it bringing forth justice; there's little to no humor about him and various ladies, so that makes him a little less like the duke of House Clement. Duke Mulford has brought down his iron fists on Piers, but just like his father, he's but one tenacious lion cub.

"I presume you would like to speak with my father?" Piers said when Alexander finally reached him.

"Yes. I'd like to talk to him. It's urgent."

"Oh, good. I thought you were here for the ladies," Alexander glared at the man, and he held both his hands up in defense, chuckling, "Just kidding. Don't get too hot.

Annoyed and tired, the duke ignored Piers on their way back to the palace. Only looking back to glare or nod. The sooner he got to see Vernon, the calmer he'd become—hopefully.

On their way to the palace, the last time Alexander checked his pocket watch, it was already past nine in the morning. No wonder he's already famished. But his hunger could wait. He wouldn't be able to digest his food either way unless he talked to House Mulford's duke.

When they arrived, Vernon's second son handed his sword and sword belt to an attendant who came towards them. Alexander also undid his cloak and gave it to the attendant who bowed before he left; their horses were taken care of by another.

"Tell Father that the Duke of House Clement is here for an urgent matter," Piers ordered the maidservant after serving them some refreshments as Alexander was asked to wait in the drawing room.

The Mulford son was curious about what brought the duke to their duchy days before his father's birthday, and Alexander skimped on the details of his intentions. Piers laughed at his disinterest, but he knew better not to probe further.

Not long after, the maidservant who went to inform the duke returned to escort Alexander to Vernon's private study. Piers then excused himself as his presence wouldn't be needed in their meeting.

"Thank you for keeping me company, Piers." The second son reciprocated Alexander's gratitude with a nod and a smile, then he was off to somewhere again.

Alexander wasn't able to take in or notice any of the things as he passed by the palace's hallways filled with paintings of all sorts and art pieces—sculptures: wood, clay, and there's probably one made of marble or stone somewhere. A side of the duke no one would probably think of—until they finally reached Vernon's study. The maidservant knocked and informed of his presence. As soon as permission was granted, the knob twisted, and the servant pushed the door.

"To what honor do I owe your visit ahead of my birthday, Clement? I hope you brought some interesting gifts." Alexander looked back at the door that closed behind him before he answered the duke.

"Vance Salwyn, Grand Duke of Pradour. How about that for a gift?" the young duke replied as he sat on the settee in the middle of the room.

Vernon's gaze narrowed at the young duke as he leaned back and set the papers he was reading aside. Though they both have the positions of a duke, and ruler of their own duchies, Alexander still felt slightly intimidated by the shield and sword of the empire. Those sharp steel grey eyes gave the impression that Vernon could see right inside a person's thoughts.

"I see that your sister did her research well."

"You don't have any idea how I lowered myself to have it." Alexander shook his head slowly, massaging his temples, remembering how he begged Leticia to give him the information. Knowing how hard he could be most of the time, the lady knew exactly what to make him do. He hated every second of it, but she didn't disappoint when she formerly told him that whatever she found out was definitely worth it.

"Oh, a little loving and your sister's bound to tell you anyway. She always has a soft spot for you." Vernon humored, but Alexander wasn't buying any of it. He knew full well that the duke was trying to curve the conversation toward his advantage.

"A few months ago, I chatted with some seafarers during my rounds and learned that Pradour's currently having a power struggle between their empire and its grand duchy after news of the current Grand Duke being at death's door was made public. A relative of the Salwyns has started to gather supporters and was vocal about planning a coup to overthrow the emperor. On the grounds of unsatisfaction of the people, and some other grounds."

"Yes, we also received news about that. The emperor reached out to me for a consult, but I'm still considering the advantages of helping them. First, sending thousands of men overseas is very risky. They could be stranded elsewhere or have their ships seized on the way; it's a lot to take into account. Also, there's the treaty; the best we could do is send them supplies and monetary support should they need it."

As a duke and simply out of habit, Alexander felt obligated to give his thoughts about the options that Vernon mentioned. But then again, it's just the bear-like duke's tactics to change the topic. So, before he's completely swayed away, the young duke inhaled sharply and turned to face Vernon.

"And I also learned that Amelia's grandmother was a mistress of the emperor—ah, no, scratch that," Alexander waved a finger, "Lover. I was told the Pradour's emperor doesn't have mistresses, but instead he has lovers whom he shares his big heart full of love with." the young duke gave emphasis to the words 'big heart' while making a big circular motion with both his hands. "And Vance, Amelia's Uncle Vance Thomson, her current guardian and trusted advisor—not to mention her father's former secretary—swore to protect her at all costs, but she died of childbirth, and the advisor didn't take it too well."

Silence fell between them. Vernon glowered at him as he extended one of his hands on the table and the other stroking his chin.

"If…" Alexander continued, trying to look as assured as he'd like to believe in front of the duke. "Vance Thomson is the brother of her grandmother, then Amelia would be his granddaughter, right?" the young duke stared at Vernon, silent, and the duke stared at him back, also without a word. No one made a peep—only their ragged breathing could be heard—let alone move an inch from their seats. Until Vernon cleared his throat and broke his gaze.

"In blood, yes, but not in paper." Vernon sighed. He stood up from his seat and walked to his nearby liquor table, "Anything I can get you?"

"None for me. I'd like to keep my wits with me this whole time." Alexander answered, raising a hand. Walking behind the young duke, Vernon then sat across him with a glass of perfectly aged liquor in his hand. The aroma alone traveled to tickle Alexander's nose.

Vernon looked at the drink as he seemed to mull over the topic and the Duke of Thuenia let him. They've got the rest of the day for it.

"The Salwyn family is very… patriarchal, so to say. By the time their women turned to marrying age, they're stripped of their right to inherit. They're sent to court to find an eligible husband, but most of the time, there's already a husband waiting for them by the time their debut ends. And you know what, Clement?" The duke took a sip from his glass before continuing. His eyes darted past the young duke, full of ire, "Salwyn's are very cunning," Vernon chuckled.

"And why is that?"

"Well," Vernon smacked his mouth after he had another sip of liquor, " For one, to keep their power in check and make sure that they'd have a strong relationship with the emperor, they'd groom and train their daughters to perfection—training fit for an empress, then she'd be 'gifted' to the emperor," the duke said the word 'gifted' between gritted teeth. Whether she gives birth to a prince or princess, it didn't matter. The princes would be sent to train and lead platoons. They'd probably be killed on the battlefield, but who cares? There are plenty of other princes to replace them. If not, they'll kill each other in the process in hopes of being the heir. But the princesses… the princesses are the emperor's jewels." Vernon gulped the remaining liquor in his glass and placed it on the small table between them, saying, "Princesses are considered priced commodities for other aristocrats and nobles. They're priceless collaterals for treaties and other negotiations."

'Commodities,' Alexander repeated to himself. Leticia indeed told him about how she didn't like going to Pradour because of how men perceived her like she was a kind of mutation. They stared at her with a heightened level of mockery than she received elsewhere. Their whispered insults and judgmental stares made his sister's blood boil. Though she liked to play around overseas, his sister always took her status and her job seriously. She met with the emperor of Pradour once as ordered by Emperor Augustine, and she hated every moment of it.

"I heard from my sister that she was mocked at the emperor's court for appearing as the emperor's representative. They said something about Creador letting a woman represent the empire showed how the emperor's judgments were clouded. That he might be intoxicated when he decided on it. His court, as well as others who were there, laughed at the emperor of Pradour remarks."

The duke laughed, "I heard about that. My youngest was with her then. It was a good thing my son has a good head on his shoulders and was able to keep her rage in check." Alexander already opened his mouth when Vernon continued, "Well, with the exemption of war sprouting almost anywhere in Pradour, our empire, especially old families and some new aristocrats, also have the same thoughts about female rulers. Take what happened to Amelia at the Gathering as an example."

"Well, that's true…." Alexander nodded in agreement but later denied part of it, saying, "Even though most nobles think, our emperor has already embraced the role of women in bettering the empire. And there are a lot of people fully supporting the notion. And Amelia's a prime example of that." Alexander cleared his throat as he realized that the duke was trying to change the topic again. "I don't get why there's a need to hide it from everyone—from Amelia. She lost her family already, knowing that she actually has one, a blood relative, would reassure her."

"You don't get it, do you, Clement?" Alexander tilted his head. Was there something he missed? "How do you think Vance got here? What do you think Priscilla was here for? A vacation?" The young duke's jaw almost dropped. And as if Duke Mulford read his mind, he repeated himself, "Princesses are priced commodities, Clement. They don't do vacations to other empires."