'It's about Walton and Ragalla's Crown Prince'

Unlike the previous sleepless nights, Alexander slept like a log. When he woke up, he ran his thumb across his lower lip. Feeling the small wound Amelia left him with last night drew a smile on his face. The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity. When he looked down at Amelia last night trying her hardest to stop her tears from falling, he couldn't help but make her his. He had told himself to stray away from lustful thoughts, but the duchess' vulnerability right before his eyes ticked something inside him that lead to one thing then another.

If Amelia didn't bite his lips and just let him be, he would've gone further—and he would've coaxed the duchess to let him. He's rather persuasive, and with how things were last night, it's not far from impossible. Thinking of what could've happened between them had things progressed—the feel of Amelia's firm and smooth thighs against his hand made him think how it would feel like to be straddled by her. To have her above him, his hand caressing the length of her legs, her long hair let loose with a disheveled loo—Alexander stopped himself. He turned to his side and growled at the growing tension between his own thighs. 

"Fuck," he said between gritting teeth. Grabbing one end of the duvet, he tossed it aside and stood up. He went straight to the bathroom and relieved himself—moaning, groaning, and growling. 

He was in the bathroom one minute, then he was out the next minute or two. The shortest he's held out.

"Must be the pent-up frustrations. Yes, that must be it." He murmured as he washed his hand with the cold water in the washbasin, then his face.

When that didn't seem to take away his pent-up frustrations, he grabbed the bucket full of now freezing water and dumped it on himself.

It's winter now, and with the capital closer to the northern mountains than Thuenia, Alexander cursed beneath his icy breath. He quickly got out of the bath and grabbed a nearby towel then tiptoed to grab his fur coat before even thinking of rummaging through his belongings for something to wear.

Tomorrow is the day of the Gathering. He had some meetings to attend to outside, so he's expecting Symon to knock on his door any minute now. But rather than see his secretary, the duke wondered if he'd be able to meet with Amelia this morning. Maybe have breakfast... or morning tea sound nice. 

A smile drew on his face, but he quickly shook off the giddiness as remembering last night will definitely end up with another pail of ice-cold water over his head. The temperature piercing through his muscles. 

After he had some change of clothes, Alexander left his room and walked through the hallway then down the stairs to where breakfast was told to be served. When he got there, he asked a servant where Amelia was, but she only timidly answered him that the duchess will be dining in her study with her ladies-in-waiting and Oswyn. Seeing how she tried to avoid his gaze, he proceeded to ask, "Answer me honestly," he started, showcasing his undeniable charm, "Did someone see me with the duchess last night?"

The girl stiffened and she clutched on the tray she was holding. "We-well... It's winter, so there's not much greenery to hide the gazebo plus there were torches nearby, and--" Alexander raised his hand.

"That's enough," he said with a warm smile. "That is all. You may leave." The servant nodded her head and scurried out the next minute.

Alexander couldn't help but smile as he sipped from his glass. The smile stayed even as he helped himself with the assortment of meats and fruits laid on the table. News travel faster through servants' mouth. It wouldn't be long until everyone's eyes are on them--and that attention is something Alexander will greatly accept.

"You..." When he looked up, he saw his secretary's appalled look. "That look you got on... That's not a good look." 

"And why is that?" He asked back, smiling sheepishly at Symon as he drank the remainder of his glass. Symon only made a face then hurried to finish his meal. They have business deals they have to close before they go back to their duchy.

***** 

While Constance busied herself with preparing Amelia's dress and her jewelry, Laila, Christa, and Oswyn were busy going through the topics that the duchess will be opening up during the Gathering.

"Wait. Isn't this too much of a topic to discuss for your first time on a closed-door Gathering?" Christa waved the paper Amelia wrote last night because she couldn't sleep after that... thing with the duke.

"They did say that if your dream doesn't scare you, it's not big enough." Oswyn answered on her behalf. "Plus, this isn't something major, to be honest. I've seen this where I'm from. Guvien might be a small kingdom but it's rich in culture and art. They have a road that connects it to Toutis. 

"Now, compare to Guvien, Toutis is larger, half dessert and half not. A land full of crystals and gems, the richest of the three southern kingdoms. They don't have much business in conservative Ragalla, and Guvien doesn't bring much to the table either, so Toutis' nearest chances of doing business is Creador with its extravagant aristocrats and nobles. And to get to Thuenia, the very heart of extravagance, they have to board a ship from Guvien's small port."

"And…" it was Laila who spoke, "If I was from Toutis, I would very much prefer to travel by land. Traveling by sea requires extra men, extra security, a certain schedule, and not to mention the sea's mood and some other troubles along the way. Going by land, however, gives them more chances to visit other places that may want to buy their goods. Security is still necessary, but they can travel anytime. Isn't that a good deal?"

Amelia looked at the bunch in front of her. They do have a point. She has thought about this before when she received some reports of harassment and robberies to merchants travelling through Osmea's borders that's why merchants opted to travel by sea nowadays. But the question is, how do they fund these projects? Taking into consideration the fact that they need to tear down a part of their mountains to make way for the trade routes, this also poses security threats. And for a duchy with little military powers, and not much in their treasury for such an expensive idea, this is a big—very, very big—hurdle to cross. 

But it's not impossible, right? If this all goes well, not only will her duchy regain its former glory, but it will also change the course of everybody's lives—including hers. 

Amelia stared hard at the scattered paper in front of her.

"We'll see about that later." she said, then they were onto the next agenda. The remainder of the day were spent considering one idea after another and by lunch time, they were done. Since she didn't have much sleep, she agreed when Constance said that she should rest so she can be the best self of herself tomorrow.

***** 

Calser is a little town for the rich and the privileged. It is located far from the bustle and hustle of the Capital's center, and nearer to the borders of Bruiles and Osmea. It's also a fact that only the best shops and stores can be found here. One particular shop that was on Alexander's list was, Cenwe. A humble-looking jewelry store ran by none other than Millicent Rouwe, or who they fondly call Milly.

"Welcome to Cenwe!" a slim, brown-eyed girl turned around to greet them, her long hair following behind her with a certain grace as it fell just above the arch of her back. "May I know what you're looking or who am I'm serving?" she smiled shyly but her tone was upbeat. When Alexander last saw her at Amelia's celebration, clinging onto George Walton, she had this seductive air around her. But this time around, she acted like some innocent shopkeeper with only the best interests of her clients in mind. Even her voluptuous figure was hidden underneath thick layers of fabric, and a shawl over her shoulders that covered her front, with a large topaz brooch keeping it together.

"I'd like to see your special collection." The duke demanded, and Milly bowed her head before turning to open a door hidden behind a glass display shelf. "I apologize but these are highly precious crystals. I'm afraid I only have space for one person at a time for the viewing."

"Is it now?" Symon retracted his step and stood where he once was. "Well, I guess he'd want to keep his fiancée's gift a secret even to me, his childhood friend and right-hand man." His statement was both a warning and a complaint and Alexander can only chuckle which he later cleared with a short cough.

As the door's lock behind him clicked, the lady changed her demeanor from the innocent to the Milly that he first met. Demanding, assertive; her cunning eyes always smiling, inviting, always looking for bits of dust in every crevice no matter how small.

"I thought you'd invite me for some tea and cake. I guess you being all too loyal to the duchess is true after all." Despite her former statement, the room she brought him into was spacious enough for three more people. Like outside, glass shelves lined by the wall with all sorts of accessories displayed on velvet cushions. But unlike the ones outside, these looked equally beautiful but with lesser crystals. At the far back of the room, there's a worktable with all sorts of tools for tinkering. 

"Your table looks awfully full. Are you making more of your devices?"

"I've been seeing old man Whitt while I was toying with Walton." Millicent shrugged with disgust at the mention of Amelia's late aunt's husband. "I'd rather have Whitt in my bed than Walton. I know he'd treat me how I wanted it. I wonder how the duchess' aunt was able to tolerate that kind of man." The lady made a face and spat whatever disgust was there left in her mouth just mentioning his name twice already.

"And Reignold ordered some pieces from you? Straying from traditional assassins now, are we?" Alexander changed the subject. He didn't want to dwell, or rather think, on who's better in bed or not.

"They're not all that happy, though. I think Reignold was the only one excited to use my devices. Must be the old age." She huffed a stray hair off her face.

"His grandchildren?"

"One wanted to get inside my skirt, one only asked questions, one didn't even bat an eye towards me, and the girl only glared at me the whole time." Alexander let out a hearty laugh when the lady finished counting her fingers. It was so like Arabella and her brothers, he thought, though he expected Ancel to at least be the accommodating type. But then again, back at the dungeon in Amelia's garden, the knight was like a different person void of any emotions.

"So? Why did you send me a letter? What's this important thing you wanted to tell me?" the duke looked around and found a small wooden stool near her worktable. He made himself comfortable, his legs crossed as he leaned back against the wall.

"It's about Walton and... Ragalla's crown prince."