'Elias isn't that much of a threat'

"It would be rude not to. After all, I was the one who forced this celebration upon you, Duchess." Augustine smiled at her as he made his way past the sapphire lion, who, in Amelia's opinion, looked like he'd pounce at the emperor any second and leave no scraps behind. But when he saw the duchess gauging him, Vernon cleared his throat discreetly and looked the other way.

"Where's Clement?" Augustine asked.

"He went to greet some acquaintances. I was caught up in a group of scholars earlier, so I told him to go without me."

"Has he been good to you?"

'Has he been good to me? Why do you care?' Amelia almost blurted out. She watched the emperor closely, observing, contemplating, what his agenda might be. It hasn't been long since they last saw each other, and the last time that the did, he sent her mixed signals which she was further confused because of Vernon's controlled actions. Like, he wanted to do or say something, but is trying to calm himself.

"He's been treating me well, your majesty. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering," he nodded as he took a sip of his wine.

"Well..." Amelia paused for a while, thinking if she should be straightforward or not. "I was wondering too, your majesty, and forgive me for being rude, but I've been itching to know why you insisted to host my birthday. I've politely rejected your offer a number of times already. Do you have some sort of—"

"It's my way of remembering—honoring—my friendship with your father. As you know, the three of us are childhood friends," he simply said. For some this seemed to be a plausible reason, yet Amelia doesn't think of it as such. There's more to this, she knows.

Of all her years, as much as she could remember, not once did the emperor ever showed her favor. Not once did he made her feel that he cared for her as much as Vernon and Vance did, considering how he claims to cherish the relationship he had with her father. So why now?

Her family's closest to Vernon. If anyone would want to honor her father by means of hosting a grand ball in his honor, it would be her Uncle Vernon. She didn't even get to see even fracture of the emperor's shadow during her parent's funeral—nor any of the royal family.

"By the way, when is your grandfather coming?" It was Vernon who finally spoke.

"Grandfather?" Augustine repeated in a faint voice as he tilted his head a little.

"He sent me a letter earlier that he had some things to attend to." Amelia turned to where Vernon was and walked towards him. The duke, being a second father to the duchess, naturally inspected if something was amiss on her—her hair, her cape, her dress, her sash. Eventually, complimenting her like every proud father would, then asked why Alexander let her wear something that showed too much of her chest.

Amelia covered her mouth and giggled, saying, "He said the same thing. We were a little late arriving at the banquet because we bickered about me wearing this sash so it would be covered at least. I told him I didn't want to wear the sash because I already have the cape with my House's crest on it." The duchess ranted on and on about what happened when Alexander arrived to pick her up, and Vernon eagerly listened; smiling and laughing occasionally, even teasing from time to time—both seemed to have forgotten that the emperor is in front of them, trying to time when he'd join in the conversation.

"Did Vance..." the emperor finally mentioned, taking the attention of the two rulers. "Did Vance told you that he's related to your mother?" The duchess studied his face for seconds before answering.

"He told me on my birthday," she said, but it was more of 'he was forced to tell' her that he's her grandfather—not that the emperor needed to know that, though.

"He did?" Augustine's voice was low as his eyes shifted from her to Vernon to his glass. He kept on twirling the contents of it while mumbling something. "Did he say where they're from?"

Why did the air around him suddenly changed?

"He said they're from Pradour."

"Did he also said that he's the—" Before he can finish his sentence, heavy hands fell on Amelia's shoulders.

"People are staring, your majesty. I don't think it's wise to keep the young lady with us old ones," Vernon was serious at first then he laughed lightly. "I think there are still a lot of people eager to talk with you, my dear. You should enjoy the night and widen your horizon even more."

Amelia looked at the duke with confusion, but seeing how he was eager to push her away, he must've had a good reason to. With a curtsy she left the two men with more questions than ever.

----- 

The remainder of the night was unexpectedly light. Amelia danced, laughed, shared ideas; she took a bite from the light snacks that her ladies-in-waiting never forgot to serve her with considering that they've also been all over the ballroom meeting new people and greeting old ones.

People from her council also arrived, and Sybil wasn't one to miss out on such an occasion. With almost every other lady knowing about her and her family, it didn't take her long to hold the reigns of what seemed to be the title of the new lady of high society. Her friend was all smiles even when the wind blew colder and the candles illuminating the ballroom was changed for the third time already.

The emperor excused himself midway and wished everyone a lovely evening—surprisingly enough, he didn't seek out Amelia like he did previously. After the conversation she had with Vernon and Augustine, she rarely saw the two. Even Elias who had asked her to dance didn't know where his father went.

"Cice," Amelia looked back like it's the most natural thing to do.

"Lex..." She said faintly, taking the attention of the ladies in front of her.

"Good evening, ladies." Of course, Alexander had to be so gracious and greet the others first; his hand slipping behind the duchess, just a little above her hips. "Aren't you tired?" he faced the duchess.

"With all these beauties around me, it never really crossed my mind," Amelia giggled. Alexander was so close to her she could almost give him a peck on the cheeks and sent him away merrily. Then what's stopping her?—she didn't know either.

A part of her wanted to show off; a part of her wanted to keep the play that they agreed to let people see, but a part of her also wanted these special moments just between the two of them.

'Special moments?' Amelia discreetly shook her head to blow away the thoughts. When did she saw her relationship with Alexander in such a light? But then again, it's hard not to—right?

"I'm afraid I have to take her away from you ladies—" Alexander was cut off by the slight shriek and wide smiles.

"Uhm..." one brave soul stepped forward and asked the question that everybody's been aching to know. "Before you leave, Duke Clement, we... uhm... would like to know that since you're calling the duchess in her nickname... does that mean you have a great relationship with her?" she had a certain sparkle in her eyes when she mentioned the word 'great'. Everyone who's within hearing stopped what they were doing just to listen in. Even Amelia held her breath waiting for the duke to answer.

"Yes, it's been great so far," he simply answered, and Amelia slightly lowered her head to hide her reddened face. "Now, if you'll excuse us. I haven't had the chance to dance with my love yet." Alexander continued before winking and whisking the duchess away from the love-struck bunch and into the middle of the ballroom.

In the middle of the dancefloor where they didn't care if people whispered or stared at them, Alexander and Amelia swayed their bodies in tune with the angelic voice of the singer and her accompaniments. The duke's hand was firmly placed on the small of her back, pulling her a little too close for comfort that she can feel his breath warming up the side of her neck when he leans in for a whisper.

'Why does this feel more like torture?' Amelia thought as she looked the other way because when she looked straight at the duke earlier, she had a whiff of the alcohol he had earlier. 'Is he already drunk?'

"Did you dance with anyone already?" he asked, looking past her.

"No. I was stuck talking to some knights I knew from Aclador, then I got invited to sit with the ladies from earlier. Oh! I did dance with Elias earlier."

"That's good. Elias isn't that much of a threat." he whispered, clearing his throat after. Amelia heard it clearly, but she, too, was too embarrassed to ask any further. Any more and she'll melt on the floor and evaporate--then the music changed.

Amelia gulped. At the corner of her eyes, she noted some dance partners leaving in exchange for actual couples who danced in the slow—almost sensual—tune. Their bodies so close together, making minimal movements, that they'd mend into one in a matter of seconds.

Amelia gulped again then froze. Her breathing hitched as a tingle ran down her spine when she realized Alexander's hand slowly inching down to her hips. With her cape behind her, no one would know where his hands were. 

Amelia stared back at him. Just a small inch and she'd be able to taste what he had earlier. Just a little bit... should she cross it? As these intrusive thoughts crowded her mind, Amelia didn't notice how she slowly took at least a millimeter closer every time they swayed, decreasing the gap between them.

She could feel him. His strong arms, his hard chest against her soft ones... the warmth emanating from him. The lust in his eyes as he stared at her lips. The lips that took hers possessively earlier... He muttered something with those lips and Amelia's brows furrowed, asking him to repeat it again.

"I said Constance is on her way to the both of us," he repeated closer to her ear this time with a slight smirk stamped across his face and as if she was slapped back to reality, Amelia placed a hand on Alexander's chest and pushed him lightly.

"I apologize for the interruption, your grace," her lady-in-waiting said with a faint blush as she smiled at them apologetically. "Someone handed me this note. He said it's from Ancel," she informed, and Amelia took it in a heartbeat. "And Sir Elias has a message for you as well, Duke Clement."

"For me?"

"He told me to tell you not to stay too close to his sister," Constance stifled a smile as she gestured to where the Mulford heir was standing looking at them with a grin on his face—a get-away-from-her-or-I'll-murder-you kind of grin. 

Seeing this, the duke cleared his throat and straightened himself. "Why don't we take a seat somewhere," he later suggested before Amelia opened the note and she nodded in agreement; her ears and cheeks warm--no, burning hot!