'He turned me down as soon as he saw me'

Gasps and concerned whispers filled the hall as soon as the sound of shattered glass echoed throughout. When the luncheon was finished, the guests were guided to one of the smaller halls in House Clement's palace.

"Your grace!" Symon was quick on his feet to rush to Alexander's side to aid him. "Are you okay? Poison?" gasps were louder the second time as Symon couldn't control his voice. The poor overworked man must be panicking so much.

"No," Alexander grunted as he forced himself to stand, his arm around his secretary's shoulder. At a near distance, he saw his knights and a couple of servants as well as his guests waiting for a chance to help him. The duke raised a hand and told them that he's just sleep-deprived. That it was nothing to worry about.

There were relieved looks and as soon as they saw Alexander standing on his own again, they went back to their group and continued chattering.

"You've been like this since you came back from your meeting with the emperor. Are you sure things are alright?" Symon whispered as he followed the duke to his chair at a slightly elevated dais.

Alexander only rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. Then he leaned to the side and propped his elbow on his chair's arm. He massaged his temple while his eyes scanned the hall and those that happened to cross looks with him nodded lightly. At one corner, a group of young girls gathered and were looking at him, looking worried. Alexander wanted some entertainment, so he smiled playfully at them. Symon saw it and was the least happy.

"What are you? My wife glaring at my potential lovers?"

"You did say that you're a changed man because of—because of the duchess. So, why are you leading ladies to your way?"

"A man should acknowledge his past," the duke answered sarcastically after a sigh.

He's been sending letters to Amelia to check up on her, but Augustine's words still floated in his mind.

He questioned himself day in and day out if his proclaimed love for the duchess was but a simple obsession. To take his mind off of it, he worked nonstop. Traveling from one town to the other with only a little time for rest in between, reading papers till the break of dawn. He only stopped and breathed to exchange letters with Amelia.

"The Felfords are coming this evening with the duchess' advisor." Symon leaned closer again, "Should I reserve the usual place?" Alexander glanced at his secretary and shifted in his seat.

It has been a week since he came back from his meeting with the emperor. As soon as he was back in his duchy, Vance came knocking on his door to discuss the arrival of his men from Pradour, and not once did he ask about his meeting with the emperor. Alexander had an inkling that maybe the advisor already knew and that annoyed him even more.

The last thing he wanted from Vance was his pity. He couldn't bring it within himself the fact that he was all talk and no action. And not having the guts to tell it to Amelia's advisor felt even more vexing for Alexander. He wanted Vance out of his palace as soon as possible so he just sat there and listened to him, agreeing to everything the advisor proposed.

"Are you even listening?" Symon said irritatingly hidden by a smile.

"I am. Reserve one from the red street. The more people there are, the harder it's going to be for anyone to follow us."

"Are you sure you want to meet in the red street? You haven't been there for months."

The red street's the entertainment district of Thuenia. From games of luck to games of the flesh and everything in between, it's all there.

"Let's just say I'm done being a good duke and have returned to my old ways."

"But the Felfords… they're loyal to the duchess. Are you sure you want to be seen as someone frivolous? Vance is arriving too… and you know, that Felford lady assassin."

"They've known me as someone like that from the beginning. There's no use hiding now."

"I know, but—"

"No more buts, Symon. I'm not in the mood. Now leave and take care of that place. I only have a few hours before I meet them." Though reluctant, Alexander's secretary nodded his head and left mumbling words.

The duke returned his gaze to the hall. The girls have dispersed somewhere and now he's stuck greeting old people.

When the gathering ended, Alexander bade farewell and said that there were still some matters he needed to attend to. He thanked those who took their time to come and be a part of the charity drive that was the purpose of the small feast. The proceeds would go to institutions for both the poor and the abandoned.

Some left, and some stayed to indulge themselves with whatever entertainment was left for them to have.

On his way back to his office, Alexander came across Jyver. The knight was surprised to see him but looked like he had something to say.

"Walk with me," Alexander said so the assassin kept close behind. "Any word?"

"Lady Leticia's messenger bird arrived earlier informing where she's currently now. It seems like she's stranded on an island village. The current could be rough at this time of the year, so it was to be expected."

Alexander let out a long sigh. He knew how seas could be during winter season, so he expected the delay. But what was he to say to Vance? Leticia left just a day after he arrived at the Capital. She only went home to grab her things then she was out to sea by the next day.

"How long would it take?"

"With the recent weather, it might take Lady Leticia two days or so. Given that the current's a little calmer from where she is, she'd be able to set sail earlier. The Siren is a great ship. It's made to withstand even the harshest of storms."

Reassured, Alexander dismissed his knight after his report.

Contemplating on how to deal with his evening guests made the duke made his way to his private chamber to freshen up and rest. But no matter what he did his eyes remained wide open. His thoughts flew from place to place.

For the past few days, he's never been relaxed—didn't have the time to sit down and think. He was on a roll with traveling and making swift decisions. Even the charity luncheon was an abrupt idea. It was just an afternoon thought then by the next day he's got Symon calling everyone over.

Alexander groaned. He laid on his stomach and slowly closed his eyes; lying like so always helped him sleep.

**********

The sight of Alexander walking through the red street took everyone's attention. He was not only dashingly pleasant to the eyes, but he was also taller than the average man. Girls were trying to grab his attention, calling out to him. Store owners were out charming him to visit their shops, and the men greeted him with familiarity.

But Alexander wasn't in the mood to reciprocate anyone, though he had to, so he forced himself to at least smile a little.

It's the winter season. People from tropical regions and continents came to experience Thuenia's holiday festivities so the streets and entertainment houses were full. But there's an exception of one.

Lyca.

An entertainment house that caters to both games of luck and flesh. But it recently turned to an exclusive establishment that only catered to the rich and famous who couldn't care less of one another. Not everyone could afford Lyca, and the owner wouldn't want it any other way.

"Are they not here yet?" Alexander voiced out anxiously as he looked at the empty seats before him.

"They're coming. I told the sta—" Symon wasn't able to finish his sentence when he lifted his head to give attention to the knock on the door followed by a woman dressed in Thuenia's traditional clothes, informing them that his guests have arrived. "See? I told you they're coming. I'll go see that they're greeted properly."

With the closing door behind his secretary, Alexander fixed his clothes and straightened himself. He's met with a Felfords before, but not so many in one place. His knights stationed outside wouldn't be able to do a thing against them.

It's a thought that bugged the duke. It's like welcoming death for a drink. If all else fails, they could just easily kill him and be rid of his body the second.

The floorboard of the second floor creaked but not a footstep could be heard, and Alexander thought that it was so like them to be so; like how Arabella was before in the secret passageway.

"Greetings. I hope you had a safe trip," Alexander smiled broadly at the bunch of men all cloaked in black with their faces hidden by their hoods.

"It's them who needs to be safe around us," Reignold's chuckled with his bold voice as he pulled back his cloak. The other four he's with did the same. "Some kind of establishment you brought us in."

"Vance's not with you?" Alexander noted. He was told that the advisor's coming himself too.

"He's running late with my granddaughter. They'll be here soon. Where should we seat?" hearing that Vance was coming with Amelia's lady-in-waiting made Alexander clear his throat. He looked around the room and expected death glares to be thrown at him.

For once, he acknowledged his secretary. It now seemed like a bad idea to have the meeting here. If he could bring back time and choose differently, he would.

"Sit wherever."

"Are some girls coming over too?" the old Felfords head elbowed the man beside him, but he received no response.

"Oh, right... Symon!" the duke nodded to his secretary and Symon swiftly left the room and can be heard instructing someone outside.

Alexander wanted to ask the Felfords head who he was with, but he thought that if he wanted them to be known, he would've introduced them much earlier. Surely, as the head of a prominent family, manners, and discipline would've been a priority.

Symon came back smiling at the duke and not a moment longer, a knock interrupted them, and when his secretary opened the door, in came five women wearing the same traditional clothes as the one earlier. But this time the upper part of the dress was loosely fitted which made the shoulder fall, baring their neck and chest that showed a perfect cleavage—plump and full.

Every single one of them held a tall glass of aged ale that they served whilst flirting discreetly, but the men Reignold came with all had stoic faces—much to the women's disappointments when they were asked to leave.

One looked like an older version of Ancel so he must be related to them somehow—or maybe his grandson, and the other two might be his best available men around.

Sighing discreetly, Alexander looked out the window and saw the bustling street below and the many establishments that were opened the whole night, and then some knights on patrol duty trying to resist the urge. It was at that time that the duke remembered to make use of the time now and ask a few questions. Reignold's the type to answer no matter how sarcastic his answer might be.

"I don't know much about Vance," he started.

"There's not much to know about him." was the plain response. "One piece of advice though." Reignold drank half of his glass. "You don't want to get into his bad side."

"Is that why you're on good terms with him? Because you're afraid of him? Because he's the Grand Duke of Pradour?"

Cold eyes fell on Alexander, and he shuddered, but one thing was made clear—they knew who Vance really was.

"Vance is a monster lying in wait. Observing. Gathering as much strength to withstand a hundred nights. Stepping into his cave meant an immediate death."

"So, you are afraid of them?" even more intense gaze pinned Alexander on his seat. He's not sure if provoking the Felfords was the best course of action to get information, but he already started it. There's no turning back.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that one," Reignold smirked and placed his glass on the table.

"Why don't you come to me? I'm sure I have more than enough to give than you're already receiving." Alexander's mind wanted to get out of his body and stitch his mouth close.

"That's a good idea." The man that looked like Ancel spoke, "Or we could kill you now, right here, and take over your duchy."

"Heh, that's a good idea too." Alexander bluffed. The wine he sipped sat on his tongue, unable to pass through and he almost choked forcing it down.

"Now, now, Lewis. We've come here in peace. Don't go around spouting threats." Lewis just shrugged his shoulders before he took his glass and drank the remaining contents. "I'm sorry about that, boy—I mean, Duke Clement. My grandson here is a little of a hot-head," Reignold reached out to pat his grandson's shoulder. And just when Alexander thought nothing of it anymore, the Felfords head went and continued, saying, "He's not entirely wrong though." And the duke almost lost it.

If it was not for the speck of dignity left in him as a Clement and as the current ruler of his duchy, he would've been peeing his pants by now. For a moment his thoughts flew to his guards outside. How sure was he that there were only four that arrived? What if his knights were all taken down without him knowing?

Unwanted thoughts spiraled in his head.

"Well, since Thuenia will someday have a genuine connection with Osmea, we'll be allies soon enough. Let's put the threats aside for now." There we audible snickers from the others, and he saw them shaking their heads too.

"Did you manage to persuade the emperor?" the air around Reignold turned heavy. He's serious. Alexander knew that this was business. No sarcasm or underhanded comments are allowed.

"He turned me down as soon as he saw me."

"You told him about what Vance told you to say?"

"I did…"

"And?"

"And he told me to grow up," Alexander looked to the side, embarrassed. There wasn't a thing to be self-conscious about but repeating it out loud to other people was like the emperor drilling it to him again.

Reignold made a face and then let out a hearty laugh. "That was a good one," he said, wiping the corner of his eyes. "But I was sure that he'd soften a little once Vance's name was mentioned."

"Why is that? What did Vance to do the emperor?"

The Felfords' head looked him dead in the eyes, "Nothing… but somehow, I was sure that given their past, he'd listen just for a little. I thought wrong."

"By past you mean—them being friends, right? I heard the story of how they met from my sister."

"Well, you can say that." The short snicker at the end of Reignold's statement piqued Alexander's curiosity.

Was the emperor and Vance not on good terms then? Did something happen between them and now the emperor owed something to the advisor? Because if not, then why do Vance's words have more weight than the emperor's?

Was it about the fire that happened seven years ago?

Did Augustine know who did it? Was he really involved? Did he do it, and somehow Vance learned about it? And if he did, what was the cost of the advisor's silence? Surely, the emperor paid a great price.

"What are you thinking, boy?" Alexander blinked fast and he stuttered as he answered Reignold with another question. "Your eyes looked conflicted… and lost. What's in your mind?"

"Ah," the duke forced a small smile and played with his fingers under the table. "I was just thinking that this holiday season would either be a happy or sad one depending on how things proceed."

"I'll vouch for that," Reignold nodded lightly and looked at his companions then he fished his pocket watch to know the time. At the far end of the room, there's a clock. It displayed the long hand almost on the seventh, and the shorthand just five minutes away from the twelfth.

Another moment of silence fell upon them, and Alexander was already on his third glass. It's not good to be drunk in a room full of death-bringers, but his nerves wouldn't stay put. He kept on looking out the window saying that the wind has picked up or that he'd see from where he sat when Vance's carriage arrives; when the truth was, he was looking out to see if his knights were still outside.