'Maybe I can teach you—love, that is'

There wasn't much time for sleep. The banquet ended past midnight and Amelia's scheduled to leave for Fayburgh before the sun rises. Traveling with her were Laila and Christa. She was supposed to ride her horse to the town but every single one of her knights that'll be escorting her begged her to ride the carriage instead. Even Ancel did, and Vance told her no too, so she had Arabella return it with her back to the palace.

During her stay in Aclador, she would get as little as an hour of sleep before the gong for training sounded. But back then she did it every single day, and she rarely had any good night's sleep anyway.

Things have changed now. She can sleep as much as she wanted and lazed around with as little care for time. Vance wasn't so strict with her compared to the Mulford brothers.

"Would you like to travel at a later time?" Laila came to ask her.

Amelia was sitting on a nearby stone bench near the stables watching the servants place her luggage on Vance's carriage. She packed light for Fayburgh since she's not staying the night. Tomorrow's her birthdate, and there's a mass for her parents followed by a private luncheon at her palace with only close friends and family. Then when night comes, the palace would be open to the townspeople for a feast and merrymaking.

For the past few years, they would sing a prayer together in front of a great bonfire in the western garden. For those who traveled far, there's a building next to the barracks built especially for these occasions. And when it's any other day, it's made into quarters for new trainees.

"I'll try and get a shut-eye in the carriage. I need to be back at the palace by nightfall. I can't afford to be late or spend the night."

"And you're traveling with just a handful of men to protect you?" Christa sat down beside the duchess, hiding her hands inside the warmth of her thick cloak.

"I can protect myself. You can protect yourself. Laila is staying for another day and will travel back with her mother. A handful is enough for us. Plus, we don't want to scare the children at the small villages we may come across."

"Mother said your perception of danger is as if it's just a speck of dust on your shoulder, so your security's lax."

"Why need a hundred men who'd stumble in the face of death, when I have six or seven men who'd lay their lives just to see me alive the next day?"

"Lia…" the old advisor took both ladies' attention. "I've already made arrangements so there would be men who'd look out for your carriage when you pass by towns on your way back. They won't join you, but they will ensure that there's no trouble on the road. They would be using messenger birds to let the other groups know that your carriage already passed. So do not delay. A minute or two is fine, but more than that, the other groups would be alerted, and they'd come looking." Amelia only managed to nod. There might be only a handful around her when she travels, but a hundred eyes follow them everywhere.

"Mr. Vance…" It was Arabella's turn to steal the attention. "We have to go," she said.

The advisor nodded and turned to look at the ladies and bowed his head before leaving. Arabella looked serious which made Amelia a little nervous. She didn't even leave a single sarcastic remark or insulted her brother as she always does. The duchess was told that there were some security details she needed to get done with the Felfords for her birthday and the bonfire. With Ancel coming with her to Fayburgh, the lady assassin's been tasked to take over in the meantime.

As Amelia looked at the leaving carriage of her advisor, she let out a sigh and waited until Ancel have gathered and instructed his men.

It only took a few minutes before the duchess and her ladies-in-waiting boarded their carriages. Laila was in a separate one that she came in from Fayburgh, so Amelia was with Christa.

The trip lasted two hours. Enough for the duchess to feel refreshed when they arrived. As their carriage came to a halt, Amelia pushed the window curtain aside to see the town. Inhaling the fresh air as deeply as she could, the duchess' eyes darted at the greenhouses all lined up at a distance.

Fayburgh's barely a town. It's more of an agricultural area. The only people living there were farmers and their families; several researchers from the Keep, then those who overlook the operations. No lords and they answer directly to the Keep which they then report to the duchess. Though there's only a number of people living there, it has the biggest land area in Osmea.

The fields stretched as far as the eyes could see, but most of them lay bare during winter. Livestock had been housed since late autumn as the winter started to unfold. The only movement that could be seen was at the greenhouses, and those tinkering at their equipment or rebuilding fences or their homes. Some have switched jobs from farming to bagging grains and other produce to be shipped out.

"Have you been in Fayburgh, Christa?" Amelia leaned back, waiting for them to make a full stop at the villa she uses when she's in town.

"This is my first time coming."

"It's barren now, but when spring comes, it's like a whole different place."

"I'd love to see that very much, duchess."

"Lia. I told you to call me Lia. And of course, we're coming back here. You're not going to leave me soon, right?" Amelia stifled a laugh at Christa's expression. The lady-in-waiting should learn a thing or two about controlling her emotions from Arabella.

"Of course not, duch—Lia." Christa lowered her head as her ears started to redden. The duchess was about to make another remark but as soon as she opened her mouth, the carriage door also opened.

"We're here, Lia…" A distasteful grin emerged from Amelia's face as her gaze fell on the same green eyes she tried to get away from last night.

"Why are you here?" she asked, refusing to take the gentleman's hand after Christa was guided out. "I don't remember telling you to call me so casually."

"I told you I work at the Keep. I came with Lady Laila yesterday." Now Laila is Lady Laila and she's just Lia? The guts of this man! If Arabella or Alexander's around, he would've received a death stare or two. Probably that'd be the time she sees her lady assassin and would-be husband on the same page.

"Is there a problem, Ossie?" Laila came up to them and Amelia's ears rang as her eyes widened—Laila called him Ossie!

'They're that close?' Amelia thought.

"Nothing. It's just Duchess Florence wasn't expecting that I'd be here too." He spoke like a meek little lamb with his hands behind his back.

"You two know each other?" Laila asked and the duchess' ladies-in-waiting, as well as Oswyn, turned to hear her answer. When she took a while to do so, the scholar answered for her.

"Oh, we just bumped into each other last night. Nothing much."

"Ossie is new at the Keep and came from a foreign empire. I apologize if he said anything inappropriate, Lia."

"It's oka—"

"So, everyone calls you, Lia," Oswyn's eyes shouted 'eureka', and the wide smile on his face made the duchess want to punch him somehow.

"You call her Duchess," Christa took a step in front of Amelia, and the foreigner was taken aback. He straightened his back and cleared his throat. The former smug on his face vanished. "Don't tell me you're scared of women who're not buying your sweet talks."

Oswyn cleared his throat again before he spoke, "Uhm… I was just kidding." Was his only response in a slightly low voice. "I apologize if I have somewhat offended you, ladies."

"I guess Ossie's a little intimidated by women who stand their ground," Laila made a playful remark, "Where he came from, women have little to no voice at all. He told Mother how amazed he was that Creador lets a woman rule over the people."

The duchess looked at the man beside Laila who now stood with his hands together in front of him. Gone was the air of roguishness.

"And where did you come from, Oswyn?" Amelia tilted her head slightly to the side. Her eyes ran from the man's head to his toes then back again. She thought that if she knew, she could ask him if silver hair was common where he came from.

"Empire of Pradour, Duchess…" he answered with a quick bow.

"You're a long way away from home."

"Yes, I am. Almost a week and a half if the sea's kind enough."

"Oh, I see." Amelia nodded, satisfied. The former thoughts of annoyance were already gone from her mind.

Pradour, she repeated.

She hasn't met anyone from Pradour. It's almost at the other side of the world, and an ostentatiously rich continent. The wealth of Thuenia wouldn't even compare to theirs. Pradour has a lot of mines, and they have their own oil reserve. Despite their overwhelming wealth, Pradour's the worst place for any lady—women—to live in. Amelia has heard rumors and news from other merchants who dealt with the empire, and they're not very good.

Just like Laila said, Oswyn must've been taken aback by a woman who's allowed to talk back to him—a man. Then her being a ruler must've been a ridiculous notion to him, but why come to her duchy?

"Welcome, Duchess Florence and Lady…" a man not older than Amelia's advisor spoke with a croaky voice.

"Christa Berdwell. Marchioness Maude Berdwell's daughter," the lady-in-waiting answered swiftly and with authority.

"Ah, yes. Welcome Lady Berdwell, I apologize for not recognizing sooner."

"Apology accepted," Christa answered with a nod.

After greetings and introductions were made, the man named Carhun guided them to the duchess' villa. Her advisor told her that the villa was a place special to her father who spent most of his days in Fayburgh. Amelia's father loved to work with his people. He got along well with others, and they found him easy to work with in return.

From what she could remember and the fragments of her dream from seven years ago, Amelia believed that she was exceptionally fond of her father. Though her mother seemed to keep her in the palace, the duchess was certain that the late duke might've snuck her out at least once. Going back to Fayburgh was a way for her to collect pieces of her memories that might just be around somewhere if she looked at the right places and asked the right people.

The villa was untouched. The decorations were the same as the last time she visited. The water reservoir has been filled too not knowing that Amelia wouldn't stay long.

Amelia's stomach grumbled and her eyes widened. She looked at her companions and was thankful that no one seemed to notice. Cake and wine were the only things that kept her full last night.

"I'm sure you're all famished from traveling. We have prepared some beef ribs slow-cooked with potatoes and some herbs and freshly baked bread," Carhun guided them to the dining area ahead.

When everybody has chosen a seat for themselves, the man took an earthen pot that hung over a nearby fire and placed it on a woven pot holder in the middle of the table. Then he turned his back towards them to fetch a basket of bread covered with cloth. He then proceeded to bring out the wooden plates and utensils.

"I apologize as these are the only wares available. The housekeeper said that these were the ones you used when you visited a few months ago. She went to Eblon for some urgent matters so she's not here now."

"It's okay Carhun. Thank you for the trouble." Carhun smiled earnestly. He bowed his head repeatedly until he left to tend to the water the duchess might want to use to freshen up.

Now, one thing bothered Amelia—no one's there to taste her food or someone who has an antidote ready with them. Ancel just asked permission to survey the area, and probably wouldn't be available until the next hour.

Laila's not immune to poison so it's out of the question to ask her. Christa's new and Amelia would rather give her only good experiences for now. And Oswyn—she's not expecting anything from him at all.

There's only herself to rely on.

Amelia gulped. The last time she was poisoned she didn't know about it. Since then, though she looked quite composed with the many possibilities after that, in her mind she was always aware of it—anxious even. But just as Amelia reached for the ladle, Oswyn beat her to it.

He gave her a soft, understanding smile and scooped some into his bowl. After a spoonful, he placed his utensil aside and handed the bowl to Amelia.

"I'm immune," he said with a wink, and everyone stared at the bowl in front of the duchess. "And I know you're hungry. Come on, eat up."

"How do we know you didn't poison it yourself?" Christa demanded.

"It's okay, Christa… I believe Oswyn," Amelia stared at Christa until she submitted. Amelia then turned to the man in front of him, "Thank you, Oswyn. I'll enjoy the food."

Christa wouldn't be able to see it from where she sat, but Amelia was sitting right across the scholar. Unless he's got a sleight of hand, he wouldn't be able to slip in anything suspicious. Even the duchess prides herself on her keen eyesight.

The stew was delicious. Everything, from the herbs, potatoes, the flour used for the bread, and the other condiments all produced by Fayburgh.

Amelia couldn't possibly ask Oswyn to drink from her cup too, but the man already had a refill, and the others already drank some too. If there's any chance that hers might be poisoned, it'd be one in a million.

When the filling breakfast ended, the duchess did not waste another second and asked Carhun to lead with Laila and Oswyn explaining things to her along the way.

"You're not asking much," the scholar came up to her side when Laila offered to take Christa on a quick tour. The new lady-in-waiting hesitated to leave but Amelia didn't want her to miss such an opportunity on her first visit, so she reassured her that it was okay.

"I'm listening well and internalizing everything. Questions will come later when there's something I don't understand."

"Well, I'm just here to answer if those questions arrive."

"Look, Oswyn…" Amelia stopped to face the scholar. "I'm grateful for your keen observation earlier, but don't think of it as something more."

The scholar shrugged his shoulders and put up his hands, "Ey, I'm not thinking of it as something more. You looked troubled and I somehow understood why. Nothing more, nothing less, 'kay?"

Amelia puffed some air. She looked to the side before taking a step forward. Their walk continued, and Amelia got to see some improvements in the new equipment that she proposed to be remodeled the last time. Then up ahead, some farmers were starting to till some plots for winter sowing.

"Say…" Oswyn sounded, both his hands behind him like some professor giving a lecture. "Are you looking for a husband in your coming ball?"

"A hus—Excuse me?" Amelia stopped in her tracks. Her heart raced and her cheeks warmed.

"Aren't debutante balls usually involved single folks looking for someone to partner with?"

"Is that how it is back in your empire?" Amelia scoffed.

"Oh no, don't get me wrong. My ancestors might be from Pradour and I have been there myself a few times, but I was born and raised in the east, in the Kingdom of Guvien. Then I tested my luck here when I was offered a job by one of the Keep's scholars that I happen to know."

The duchess' calmed down. She glanced at the man beside her and let out another sigh. She thought no one could tire her so fast other than Alexander but she thought wrong. Oswyn drains her of her energy faster than sparring with some knights.

"The ball is just… just a formality. I'm not looking for anyone in particular."

"Oh, I see. There's someone you already fancies, huh?" Oswyn's voice was teasing. Even without looking, Amelia could imagine the face he's making.

"How could you say so?" there's no way Amelia would let her emotions get the best of her. Another person knowing would only be another chance of the news spreading.

"Well, you're young, really pretty, and a duchess to boot. You're at an age where you'd want to have a lover or two. Your status does grant you some perks like that." the playful smirk emerged on the scholar's face again followed by another wink.

Amelia chuckled, "If you're presenting yourself to be my lover, I politely decline. I already have so much in my hands."

"Is he special? How long have you known each other? Do you love him?"

Though Amelia remained silent, her mind was answering loudly.

Special? Well, in a way, Alexander could be considered special indeed.

Have they known each other for long? If she added all the time they spent together, it won't even go past a day and a half. Whenever she's with Alexander, Amelia's bound to run into some trouble. What if it's a sign from the Heavens that they shouldn't be together? Even though it was already clear that the duke didn't have anything to do with what happened to her, the timing was still uncanny.

And does she love him?

Amelia walked slower to ask herself, 'Do I love him? What do I feel exactly?'

She has no answer for it. There was no love needed for them to be together. What they have was merely business, so to speak. It's a common thing—to marry for love is what's rare.

"I think you're still confused about him, huh?"

"Wha-what?" Amelia stuttered. "I… I don't know what you're aiming for in this conversation, bu-but I'm amazed by how imaginative you are about these things."

"It's okay. It's always like that at first. You'll eventually fall in love with each other." Amelia glared at Oswyn. She didn't know if she was mad at him for being such a know-it-all or annoyed by the thoughts that clouded her mind.

Once again, the duchess asked herself what made her agree to be engaged in the first place. What was the deciding point?

In what part of their conversation at her secret chamber convinced her that she should marry him? Surely it wasn't just about the revenge, the money—or the kiss. For sure, there was something else.

But what?

Amelia shook her head. She looked at the scholar nonchalantly walking beside her. Of all the people she had to be with why did it have to be someone talkative? Now, her head's full of more unnecessary thoughts than usual.

"You know what outsiders call Guvien?" Oswyn looked at Amelia which made her reciprocate.

"The kingdom of love?" the duchess chuckled. For one, rulers would want to seem strong to outsiders, but Guvien indulges in their name.

"Correct. Guvien, the Kingdom of Love. It's cringing to hear but it is what it is." The scholar laughed and Amelia found herself smiling soon after.

Oswyn stopped abruptly which made Amelia halt as well. Then all of a sudden, the hair on the duchess' nape stood in a wave pattern starting from her upper back to her forehead. The scholar leaned closer to the duchess so that her ear was warmed up by his breath.

"Maybe I can teach you—love, that is," he whispered.