'But as they say, if you have it, flaunt it!'

When she entered the room prepared for her, Amelia hurriedly plopped on the couch.

"Are you alright?" Christa asked. "You look flushed. Did Duke Vernon scold you so bad? Mother said he has quite the temper."

Yes, the duke does have quite the temper, but his thoughts and his scolding were already miles away from Amelia's thoughts. And though she tried hard not to blush every time Alexander did something… cringey for her taste, she just couldn't!

Christa was about to hand her a glass of water when the door to the adjoining dressing room burst opened and out came Madame Camelia huffing and puffing. When she saw Amelia, she took in a deep breath and dramatically ran towards her, her hands clutching onto the fabrics of her skirt to prevent her from tripping.

"Duchess!" she called, and Amelia braced herself.

"Y-yes?" she half smiled, her arms around her as a shield. Past the seamstress were Laila and Constance's apologetic eyes, and a handful of Camelia's assistants all holding something in their hands.

"Where have you been? Oh, my heart…" she held the duchess's arm and played like she had been missing for ages. "The banquet is in two hours. There's so much to do! Come along now," she said in a hurry and before Amelia could utter another word, the seamstress had already whisked her to the dressing room. One thing led to another and now she's standing in front of a huge mirror with only her undergarments on. "Ah!" she exclaimed dramatically again, her palms on her cheeks. "The most beautiful canvas I have ever laid my eyes on."

"Madame, I…"

"Not skinny, not too meaty… a little muscular, but skin is still soft to the touch…" she started mumbling to herself, nodding, as she circled around Amelia, eyeing her closely from head to toe that, even though it's cold, the duchess felt like she's breaking into a sweat. "The front is a bit bigger for your body type, but as they say, if you have it, flaunt it! Most men like healthy bosoms, anyway," she smiled cheekily at Amelia's reddened face as she called her out.

"Madame!" almost everyone in the room spoke in unison.

Amelia wanted to crawl underneath the carpet and just hide there for the rest of the evening—heck, for the rest of her stay here in the capital. And as if there's a little mischievous devil whispering in her ear, her mind replayed the kiss she had with Alexander where the thing that shouldn't happen almost happened.

'Are my breasts big enough for him? Or are they smaller in comparison to the others he's had?' was what's in her mind and as soon as she realized where her thoughts have wandered, the duchess suddenly screamed, her fingers through her hair as she dropped down. Worried that the duchess might've had one of those episodes again, Constance was quick on her feet and grabbed a nearby robe to cover her.

Even though she should be glad and thankful that her lady-in-waiting was perceptive enough to know what to do, her face just reddened even more and her body scorching because she worried Constance for nothing but some lewd thoughts that she never thought she would ever have.

'I'm sorry Constance. I'm sorry too, Laila.' Amelia mentally kneeled in front of her ladies-in-waiting who looked like they're trying their hardest to hold back their tears. Then Christa burst through the door, asking what happened. 

"It's okay…" Amelia managed to stand with Laila's support. "I'm okay," she said, nodding at Christa. At a distance where the door to her room was, she could hear banging. "Tell Ancel I'm fine." The duchess took a deep breath and sat down on a cushion stool facing a golden vanity.

"Should we clear the room for a while?" Gone was the sparkle in the seamstress' eyes as her fingers played with her lace handkerchief.

The duchess shook her head with a smile and said, "Let's proceed. I don't want to be late, though I guess being fashionable late isn't such a crime." Amelia saw a smile and heard a number of giggles.

Amelia wore a long-sleeved dark red flared dress that went up to her neck with a triangular cut just above her chest, showing a little cleavage. Gold roses were embroidered on her sleeves, up to the shoulders and her neck, while the rest of her ballgown remained simple aside from the band studded with small rubies that cinched her waist. 

For this occasion, she decided to wear her father's signet on her left pinky finger that she had resized weeks ago, beside it, on her ring finger, was the ring Alexander gave. It's the first time she's wearing it on her ring finger, so everyone present in the room all looked at each other. Putting it there meant that she is indirectly confirming the rumors surrounding her and Alexander; to others, this can turn tables around. Amelia knew that this move will only fuel other rumors floating around that she chose to ignore before. But she's had enough causing ripples.

--------- 

"Phew!" Madame Camelia wiped an invisible sweat with her arm and took a few steps back to admire her work. Once they were finished, she excused herself and two of her assistants, leaving the other four behind to help Amelia's ladies-in-waiting get dressed, because she had others to attend to.

Alone in her sitting room, the duchess leaned back and lifted her hand. She's been staring at her rings since she finished dressing. With every minute that passed, her heart pounded louder than the latter. Thoughts—doubts—filled her mind.

Can she do it?

Since it's an imperial ball, everyone who's anyone in Creador will be in attendance. The paper said that it's going to be the ball of the century!

"Are you feeling okay?" It was Constance wearing her family jewels and an olive green ballgown.

"My mind's just a little preoccupied, is all," Amelia smiled at he faintly. "I've been engaged with him for a while now, but it just dawned upon me earlier the gravity of our actions after the Gathering and when he kissed me in the hallway where some servants were."

"Well, he kissed you the first time you two met. Just imagine it like it was that night again."

"I fainted after that, remember?" The duchess giggled in response.

"Well…" Constance paused trying to collect herself, "You sure did," until she, too, laughed at the recollection. It has been months since, yet it feels like it was just last month. "Did you not like it?"

Did she not like it? What kind of question was that?

Amelia tilted her head. "Not like what?"

"You know," Constance's voice was faint like a whisper. "Kissing the duke." 

Amelia felt a sudden gush of heat that reddened her cheeks and looked the other way, shifting in her seat as if there's something wring with the cushion.

"I mean…" she stared blankly at Constance. She wanted to say that she liked it, but she's too shy to admit it. "I… It's not bad, I guess?" she shrugged, "But I'd like to keep that between us both."

But that's the problem. It is a well-known fact that Alexander is not one to shy away from public displays of affection! It just so happened that a lot of things happened after agreeing to get engaged, plus they had their own duchies to prioritize to a point that it took them months to see each other again.

Would this even work between them? Amelia found herself sighing heavily as she leaned on the cushioned back of the couch they sat on.

Aside from their engagement, there's still the matter of their poisoning that has yet to be resolved; there's also the question of how the poisonous plant travelled across the sea. The succeeding unsuccessful attempts on her life was taken cared of by Reignold, but she never received any updates. Lastly, the matter of who her mother was and why did Vance hide the fact that he's her grandfather.

So many hanging questions, so little time to process it all.

Just when Amelia seemed to be drowning in her own thoughts, a knock sounded, and her lady-in-waiting was quick on her feet to stand and reach for the door's handle.

"Who is it?" the duchess asked when she noted Constance's slightly furrowed brows.

"It's a letter from Mister Vance. I thought he'd be here by now."

Amelia reached out her hand to receive the rolled-up piece of parchment with a crest she gave Vance to use.

"I thought he'd be here before the banquet started," she said. It's unusual for her advisor—grandfather. She just can't get used to calling him for what he is to her—to keep on delaying his arrival. "How about Arabella? She's with him, right?"

"I haven't received any letters from Bella, but Ancel did mention that Sir Reignold told her to accompany him for the ball. I'm not sure if she stayed with Mister Vance until her grandfather arrives."

Vance won't just disappear on her right? He's not planning on leaving her behind to go back to Pradour, right?

Amelia's heart started racing and her dress felt suffocating all of a sudden. As she stared at Vance's handwriting saying, 'I'll meet you back at the mansion, my dear,' all the duchess wanted to do was storm outside and wait for her grandfather at home. Because what if he's on his way to Pradour by now and after the banquet will be too late to catch up to him?

Unnecessary worries pooled the duchess' mind, however, even if all she wanted to do was to get this night done and over with, the duchess also knows how monumental this banquet is for her. Not only will this secure a foothold for her, but this is also her formal--grand--introduction to the world.

After some time convincing herself, three knocks were heard and all their eyes darted at the door. Ancel who was on the other side, announced that Alexander is outside, waiting to escort her to the banquet hall.