Chapter 16

Veronica had willingly agreed to Amelia's request to stay home that day. That meant no embroidery class, no sewing class, no Beth, and most of all, no Madame Collins.

Veronica Flower had never in her years permitted Amelia to miss a class. One time, she had painted her face with some colors, pretending she was ill, but Veronica saw past the trick. There was another time she had just arrived from a journey from visiting her cousins in another region, and she pleaded for a day off, but Veronica did not agree.

That auspicious morning, there was nothing amiss; all it took was a prince—and some flowers. The house was blooming and highlighted with flowers. Harry had sent several bundles to the Flowers' residence that morning.

Veronica had sprinted to Amelia's room in the morning, murmuring and smiling as though she'd won a lottery. After she vacated the room, Amelia drew her blanket closer to her body, limping to the window to pull the drapes. The snow had stained the window and landscape with a foggy appearance. Seconds later, she strode to the hall down to the living room, her gaze locking with her mother's.

It'd been two weeks since the prince twirled with her at the ball, and suddenly, she'd become the talk of the town. Harry had been sending gifts and truly, she was grateful, but material things weren't exactly her priority. He had visited her briefly twice in a row, and just the other day, he'd told her that the king’s condition was getting worse.

Then there was the gunshot. Three dead bodies had shown up the previous week.

"You have never left my mind for once, Miss flower." Veronica read out the note that had been attached to one of the bouquets.

There was Amelia, in her long white morning wear, her cheeks flamed in pink, yawning and squeezing her eyes as she took in the pile of flowers all over the room.

"Why so many flowers?" Amelia muttered as she stood to sniff the bouquet that was perched on the center table.

"He is totally smitten!" Veronica said emphatically, "you'll make a handsome couple."

Amelia suppressed a sigh, not surprised about her mother's attitude. "What if I'm not smitten?" She couldn't help but point out as she slumped onto a chair.

Not that she didn't fancy the prince. He was a good man—handsome, a good listener…and most of all, royal. Then there was his scent, she was drawn to his scent—her wolf was drawn to his scent. Any woman would want his attention. But the problem was, she wasn't just any woman.

There was someone else in mind—she had the human in mind…somehow, she couldn't seem to keep him off it. He'd shown her what she'd always wanted to see. She couldn't help but wonder how it'd feel like to live in the human country.

It was beautiful there, with advanced equipment, beautiful landscapes and glorious hangouts—and then there was the candy she'd tasted, the way it'd melted so warmly in her mouth. She'd never tasted anything like it. Last time they met, they'd ridden a roller coaster, and for the first time, she felt alive.

The country felt like…home. But Amelia knew better; her love for the country and perhaps…the human was forbidden. The Lycans were her real family—the wolves were her people, and they were in danger.

Veronica opened her mouth, but Amelia beat her to it. "What if I'm not smitten, eh mother?"

For a moment, Veronica fell silent.

"Then one day, you'll learn to love him," she peered at her sideways. "There’s a way he looks at you—also, he’s so good looking, he respects this family, and he’s royal! What more could you want?" She said hotly, not really intending for an answer.

Amelia shook her head, her eyes rolling to Emily. She had limped into the room earlier, twirling and arranging the same flowers for the past five minute.

There was something amiss about her.

"Are you alright?" Amelia questioned worriedly, and she nodded her head.

Suddenly, Rose bounded down the stairs, half awake, squeezing and rubbing her eyes.

"Why so many flowers?" She suppressed a yawn.

"Flowers should reside with the Flowers, don't you think so, Roselyn?" Veronica guffawed at her joke, and Amelia shook her head.

"I think there's another note here," Veronica paused, and Amelia raised her head.

"He wants you to visit the palace!" Veronica cocked her head, her eyes glittering and clear.

Amelia couldn't help but miss her old hot-headed mother, lately, she’d been acting like a ten-year-old.

"I should have guessed it!” It was Rose beaming this time, “my favorite prince sent the flowers,” Amelia jerked her head, watching as Rose bent to sniff a bouquet.

Even the little girl was mesmerized by Harry; it'd be better if she married him instead. Somehow, Harry had managed to steal their hearts. Well, everyone except Troy.

Amelia limped to her mother, snatched the letter from her, and skimmed through the note.

"Where's Troy?" She questioned abruptly.

"He went to town," Veronica countered, her eyes trailing the maid that'd just strode into the room with an envelope.

Amelia watched intensely as her mother skimmed the mysterious note.

"What's in the envelope, mother?" She asked curiously.

Veronica hissed, and crossed her arms, "it's one Alpha Maria Flyer, she's inviting all women for a banquet…” she rolled her eyes, flinging the envelope in Amelia's direction. She could swear there had been a hint of jealousy in her voice. "She's an affluent widow that advocates for the freedom and rights of women. Good heavens! She reminds me of—" Veronica paused, all heads swinging round in Amelia's direction.

"This is wonderful!" Amelia's eyes widened, oblivious of their stares, "we must attend."

Veronica gazed at her sardonically. "What are we supposed to do there?" She demanded, her eyes narrowing. "Last I heard, she hates men. Rumors have it that—'' Veronica ducked to whisper.

"There's no traitor here, mother," Amelia leaned and whispered.

"The walls have ears," Veronica whispered back, then she opened her mouth, "rumors have it that she poisoned her late husband," she grimaced. "I don't want us associating with such a woman."

Why malign the poor woman? She was probably a victim of the country's system. If it were the other way around, and a man loses a wife, such rumors would never live to see a day!

She couldn't help but wonder about the event; a room filled with purposeful women. How glorious it'd be. She knew damn well that Veronica would never allow her to attend. Still, she picked the invitation from the floor, smoothed it on her lap and skimmed through the address. The event was on the next third night, and the prince had mentioned in his letter that she could visit the palace any day she desired. It wasn't going to be difficult to sneak to the event before moving to the palace.

It was like killing two birds with just one stone.

"Very well, mother,” she fibbed.

"Good," Veronica countered in a tone that hinted she wasn't too convinced. She glanced at her closely before humming and dancing into the kitchen.

"Emily," Amelia called out, making her flinch abruptly. She gestured at her to follow her behind.

They both plodded into her room and Amelia shut the door before swinging and opening her mouth.

"What is going on between you and my brother?"

Emily shifted, her eyes widening. "How did you…" she paused.

"That's not what's important now," Amelia scurried to her front, clamping her hand on her shoulder, "I know there's something going on between you two, but I fear there's something more to this."

Emily bowed her head, her hands shaking. "I…I"

Amelia suppressed a sigh. She raised Emily's head and took her hands. "It's okay," she said in a soothing voice.

"I…I am with child."

Amelia held her breath. She never imagined she was going to be an aunt so soon. She didn't know how to carry a baby just yet; it was going—

What was she thinking?

She paused and thought. It was surely going to be a scandal, and they'd have to wed soon to erase suspicions, but Veronica…how would she take the news?

"That's wonderful!" Amelia cleared her throat, trying to erase any doubt. "You found your mate…which is my brother. This is great." She smiled nervously, hoping she was handling the situation well.

Emily withdrew herself, tears welling from her eyes. Amelia could feel the bleakness—her struggles, and pain.

What was making her feel so worked up?

The worst that could happen was Veronica's chiding, and society’s judgement.

"What's wrong, Emily?" She questioned worriedly.

Instantly, Emily jerked her head. "I am not his mate."