'While I'm still polite'

Alexander arched his brow. He knew that the families affiliated with the Order of the Void were all over the empire, but to meet one as the duchess' lady-in-waiting was somewhat unexpected.

The Order of the Void is a covert organization of esteemed knights, researchers, mercenaries, and assassin families. To get into the Order, one must possess a great skill set deemed beneficial to the empire, whether swordsmanship, wisdom, or even the art of poisoning. They're founded to ensure that the empire doesn't go into another senseless war that took the lives of many. It's the empire's backbone; though the emperor knew of its existence, he held no power within the Order. The only way to get in was through invitations and recommendations; some even trained members of their families to gain the Order's attention.

Alexander believed that he was the youngest to be invited by the order at the age of twelve for his significant contributions to Thuenia's current state. At that time, he only did what he was supposed to as the heir of House Clement, so he didn't understand its significance.

"Who knows?" he asked in a muffled voice as he wandered through the patches of budding flowers.

"The Sapphire Lion." came the short reply.

"Does the rose--"

"No, she doesn't." there was a short pause before Arabella sighed and continued, "She doesn't know I am a member of the Order but what she does know is that I am from--"

"An assassin family." Alexander continued. "I couldn't even hear your footsteps, and yet she knew you were coming. And what's the use of overly panting when there's not a single bead of sweat on you?" He smiled to himself.

Arabella remained silent with her hands together.

"The Eagle needs to find a rat," Arabella flinched.

In the Order, a rat meant a traitor. Alexander doesn't know how skilled the lady standing in front of him was or how many capable and trustworthy people were in the palace. Still, they weren't wise enough—they must've been so agitated by the fact that he proposed marriage to the oldest family in the empire who can very well overthrow the imperial family. With House Florence's supporters and House Clement's wealth—nothing seemed impossible.

Alexander scoffed, "They must belittle me so much," he paused for a second and walked past the lady assassin, "the rat infected the tea," he whispered, and Arabella's face twisted.

Alexander watched as she lost her perfect composure and ran towards the table. She lifted layers of her skirt and yanked the small purse secured by a silk band tied around her thigh. Arabella lifted the teapot and poured the white powder inside. When she didn't find what she hoped for, she lifted the cups and inspected them.

"Those damned rats!" she cursed between clenched teeth. "It was the freaking cups!" She was about to storm off the garden, but the duke grabbed her hand. "Get your fucking hand off of me!" She hissed, but the duke only tightened his grip with a blank stare.

"How dare a mere butterfly go against the Eagle?" he stared her down, but she equally glared at him.

"Butterfl—huh?!"

"Compose yourself and bring the tray with you when you leave. Go about your ways and look for the rat discreetly," he ordered. "And if you're aware, tell a Leaf to see me."

Arabella pulled her arm away when he loosened his grip. She kept on cursing as she cleared the table and glared at him again before leaving.

As furious as he was, Alexander couldn't let his emotions get better from his judgment. Especially not to an assassin that was comfortably placed beside the duchess. But the Sapphire Lion was the crest of House Mulford, and as a swordmaster, Duke Vernon Mulford held the highest rank in the Order. As a long-time friend of House Florence, he took Amelia while the palace was being rebuilt—words circulated that his House favored the Florence's over the imperial family.

'Could it be that he ordered the poison so he could frame me for harming the duchess and sever our connection?' Alexander shook his head. No matter how much of a hot-head Duke Mulford was, he's not so childish as doing something that could possibly lead to a grave conflict within the empire. And Amelia's like a daughter to him; it's impossible for Duke Mulford to hurt her.

"Jyver," Alexander called, and as if a wind suddenly came in from the opened windows, a slender man about the same height as the duke appeared. "There seems to be a rat around here. I've come acquainted with a butterfly, and it will flutter inside the palace. Scatter the critters among the servants that came with the carriage. I won't leave Osmea empty-handed."

The ranking in the Order depended on the crest of the House they're affiliated with. It was started by House Mulford and House Florence as they were the first two duchies for decades before House Robina was established during the fifth emperor's reign as a gift to his twin sister when he took the throne.

The Sapphire Lion referred to House Mulford, and he called his subordinates Cubs. Eagle for House Clement, and Critters for his aides. Python belonged to House Robina—it wasn't the duke—but his youngest son, who became well-versed with poison and antidote-making after his intense research on different floras. Other Order members in Bruiles, House Robina's duchy, were called Weeds. The former Duke Florence was referred to as Bloom, and his people were called Butterflies, but then there were people they called Leaves, who have spent a considerable number of years in the Order.

But since Arabella said that the duchess wasn't part of the Order, they have someone they call Root, who was recommended by Duke Mulford seven years ago. Alexander has some suspicions of who it might be, but since he never spoke to him directly and rarely attended meetings, he couldn't put his doubts to rest.

When Jyver left, Alexander was too angry to just sit idly in the garden. He took his cape from his seat and proceeded to head out the door.

The first thing on his agenda was to check the servants, but as he peeked through the windows that he walked past through, everyone was busy going back and forth at the Crown Prince's unexpected visit. His visit was sudden enough, but for the Crown Prince to interfere at such a time—Alexander scowled.

Aside from that, it's been quite some time since he sent Arabella out, but no one approached him yet. He thought he'd sneak into the duchess' study, but that would only make looking for the Leaf even harder.

'What if there's no Leaf here in the Palace?' He thought.

Alexander closed his eyes for a second and kept telling himself to focus. He couldn't wait to strangle whoever tried to poison them. Whoever wanted to frame him will not leave the world with his body intact.

Then he stopped in his tracks. He suddenly realized that there's no way the duchess wasn't affected. Her lady-in-waiting specifically tested her cup, and not his—could it be that she could also tolerate poison like him?

Alexander walked through where they came from earlier, and with much looking around, he finally found the drawing room where the duchess kept her esteemed visitor entertained. At the entrance of the closed doors, one of the knights guarding it greeted him and was about to announce him, but he raised his hand and shook his head. He leaned against the wall beside one of them with folded arms. The knights peeked at the side of their eyes as they shifted uncomfortably in their posts. They're worried of what news the duke might hear if he kept on lingering around the drawing room, but they couldn't order a duke to stay away either.

**********

"I can't understand any of this, Lia." Crown Prince to the Creador Empire, Duncan Rosenburg, waved his hand all over the place.

He kept talking about traveling for days just to see Amelia and even brought gifts. But the duchess didn't want to trouble herself with him. He's but a naïve prince that no matter how Amelia tried to find it in her to hate him, she couldn't—though his very presence annoyed the duchess greatly. Also, the scandal that circulated throughout the empire about him being played by a trickster and losing all his jewelry that day was the talk for weeks. It was hilarious and pitiful at the same time.

The duchess couldn't help but be ashamed thinking that they're practically equal in status; she almost rolled her eyes at him just thinking about it.

"What are you here for really?"

At some point years ago, Amelia was convinced that the imperial family had something to do with what happened to her family. Whether they didn't like the idea that some nobles and aristocrats supported House Florence or the fact that her family had been a constant thorn that they need to be wary of until they die—both seemed reason enough to extinguish her House.

Then like a flash of lightning, Alexander's charming smile and lovely amber eyes struck the duchess' mind. The more she listened to the prince's gibberish, the more that the duke's conditions replayed in her mind. And it annoyed her that she's seriously considering marriage.

In short, Amelia wasn't in her best mood.

"I'm not really in the right mindset right now, Crown Prin—"

"Dun," he butted. "I know that you have lost your memory, but you used to come running towards me when you were younger, calling me Dun. You would even cling onto me and—"

"Enough!" she hit the arm of the chair she was sitting on with her palm. The more she stayed in the room, the more suffocating she felt. If only this darn prince hasn't stopped by, she would have already had Arabella fetch her an antidote.

Amelia massaged her temple to ease the discomfort in the pits of her stomach; she's also feeling a little cold. She's only able to endure because it must be a plant-based poison—those kinds of poison travel slower, and the effects were felt much later.

When Amelia was under House Mulford's care, she pestered the duke to let her strengthen her immunity to poison. She saw that his sons have gone through this while she was wandering around the castle. The duke was against it initially, but Amelia was pretty convincing when she laid out her reasons for doing so.

'And this is one of the reasons.' She thought. 'Could it be the duke? No. That can't be. He wouldn't propose any of his conditions if he plans to kill me after.'

Amelia looked at her ladies-in-waiting, who was staying at one corner of the room. Their brows furrowed, and their eyes begged for her to call them so they can come to her. But she didn't want to unnecessarily alert anyone—not when the Crown Prince's around. He would only make things worse!

Arabella hasn't come back yet. 'Could she have noticed?' The only reason she could think of why her lady-in-waiting wouldn't be in the room was if she somehow got wind of what happened and pursued the culprit. She then looked at Sir Ancel, her personal knight and Arabella's older brother, who, to her satisfaction, was already looking at her. She quickly glanced at the door and back to him to tell him to leave the room and find her sister.

Sir Ancel Whitt got the message and gestured to another knight in the room. Before he left, he bowed his head to the duchess, and she flicked her wrist.

"Leave." She spoke.

"What do you even like about him?" the Crown Prince pestered, leaning back with his arms folded. "You barely even know the man, and you let him take your first kiss!"

Laila and Constance were baffled. They covered their mouth with their fans to hide their unfavorable expression.

"What a childish reason, isn't it, Lady Constance?" Laila whispered.

"Shh, someone might hear you." Constance wasn't wrong, as even the slightest sound reached Amelia's ears.

"That's none of your business, Crown Prince." The duchess said between gritted teeth and a forced smile, and the people in the room felt uneasy except for the one person who should be.

"Tell me what you like about him, and I might consider actually shutting up."

Amelia leaned to the side and propped her head with her hand supported by her elbow on the armchair. She felt like any minute from now, she's going to fall unconscious.

"What I like about him?" she repeated with her eyes closed. "Well, I like his striking amber eyes that looked like the sun. I like that he's taller than me and probably much stronger. I like his serious face more than his smiling face. I find it adorable that he tilts his head slightly to the side when he's thinking—" Amelia stopped. She couldn't believe what she's hearing from her own mouth.

'Must be the poison talking,' she thought as she slowly opened her eyes. Her chest felt heavy again, but both her knight and Arabella were out of sight. They're two of the people who knew what to do.

"Ha!" Duncan exclaimed, and Amelia almost rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure if you remember this, Lia, but I am sure your father's secretary remembers. When we were younger, there was a talk between our fathers that you will be betrothed to me and—"

The door opened, and Alexander's smirking face came into sight, much to Amelia's surprise. The prince looked back at the intruder and immediately stood up.

"You have no permission to enter, Duke Clement." Duncan glared, but the duke just walked past him.

"I was passing by the room when I overheard the conversation," Alexander didn't even look back to greet the crown prince. "I don't think it's proper to bring up something that the other person doesn't have any recollection of." He sat beside the duchess and extended his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

Laila gasped, "Oh my," she whispered, forgetting to cover her face.

"Get your hand off her!" Duncan looked furious, but the smile on Alexander's face didn't falter.

Amelia closed her eyes. The commotion made her even more dizzy and nauseous; she didn't realize that she had leaned against the duke for support.

"Cice, are you okay?" all eyes turned to the duke as his hand went down to the duchess' waist. Using nicknames was common for close friends and acquaintances, but personal nicknames were only intended for family and intimate relationships.

Even the ever-so-composed Lady Constance couldn't help her fan from falling off her hands and onto her lap.

Amelia could barely keep up anymore with the voices around her. She didn't even have the strength to slap away the hand that held her. Or even talk back when she was called 'Cice.'

"I will have to excuse ourselves, Crown Prince," Alexander stood up and bowed his head. "Cice—I mean, Duchess Florence had just recovered from a cold. Today must've put a great toll on her still-recovering health. I apologize that your visit will need to be cut short."

"Wha—This is ridiculous! How dare you?!" Duncan shouted. "Get your hands off, Lia!"

"Though you are the Crown Prince," Alexander glared, "It is best not to get on my bad side. And please refrain from being overly familiar with my fiancée from now on, Crown Prince Duncan Rosenburg—while I'm still polite."

Amelia managed to force her eyes open to see Duncan's round face as red as a tomato. She looked at the duke, and her hand tugged the end of his coat as if it has a mind of its own and mouthed the word, "No.".

Alexander immediately looked back with widened eyes, but as if he could read her mind, he bent over to pick her up from her seat. There were gasps around them, but Amelia's starting to lose her consciousness to even care.