Chapter 27

The decorations were different. It was different from the type that was used in the previous ball, even different from the one used in the Alpha’s birthday celebration—more glamorous, more detailed. The journey to the palace had been a quiet one, despite the fact Veronica had attempted to be chatty once in a while, asking questions like, ‘are you sure you’ll be fine seeing the prince?’

‘Are you alright?’

It was all so overwhelming, and she’d spent most of her time tucking her hand out, feeling the air sweep through it. The rumbling wheels of the carriage had made her feel sick in her stomach. And now, her stomach was churning, not from the ride, but from the fear of seeing Harry again.

He’d moved on quite fast. The whole mate revelation had meant nothing to him; not that she cared, but really why pull off a tantrum when he had another woman in his corner and—

“You’re back to your chattiness,” her wolf said, and Amelia pursed her lips trying to prevent a smile. “Well, you lost our mate, I don’t think you’re in a position to complain.”

Amelia grimaced. She was loving their whole new relationship, but it was extremely blunt in a hurtful way, not that she was hurt at the moment.

“Amelia!” She cocked her head, her eyes connecting with Meredith’s, she was looking so gorgeous in her red off-shoulder gown. Her lips were highlighted with red lipstick, bringing out the whole look.

“Are you sure you’re here to play detective or just to find your mate?” Amelia teased, wiggling her brows, “you look stunning.”

Meredith chortled, taking in the burgundy high-low gown Amelia had on, which from her angle the bodice seemed almost decently low.

“You look like you’re here to show the prince what he missed out on.”

Amelia felt her cheek flame up. Fine, she’d spent extra time picking out the perfect dress, but it didn’t still mean she had done it to impress anyone.

For a moment the ladies stood quiet, inhaling the air that was a mix of different fragrances in the room of swinging bodies. Amelia could smell him—her mate. He wasn’t in the room yet, but she could smell him close by.

“Sophia would have been whirling with Henry right now,” Meredith said out of the blue and sighed.

“Then she’d rant about the little argument they had or how her mother almost caught them together.”

“And her tail! Always revealing for the tiniest reasons.” They chortled for a second before breathing out. Amelia had come to realize it was okay to be happy despite the tragedy.

The pain was still so deep in their hearts, but there was a little relief, like a heavy weight off their shoulders, and they were certain it’d be complete after finding the murderer.

A servant was passing with a tray of glasses. They signaled for her attention, both reaching for a glass.

“To Sophia,” Amelia raised her cup.

“To Sophia,” Meredith echoed as they cheered and then sipped the whole wine.

“I saw her parents in the room earlier,” Meredith revealed, “we can pay our respects to them later.”

Amelia felt her heart tightening; if only they’d accepted her relationship with Henry, maybe it’d have been avoided, but Amelia knew better, they were probably feeling as guilty as she did.

“Sure,” she finally said.

A soothing guitar sound began to linger in the room, and Amelia wiggled her finger in rhythm with the beat.

“His royal highness, the crown prince!” A herald announced.

Amelia jerked her head, her heart racing.

There he was striding so elegantly with his hands behind him as he entered the room. His fresh fragrance lingered in her nostrils as she tightened her eyes to take it in.

Meredith had dragged her to the front, intending for the prince to see her, and when their eyes finally connected. Amelia held in her breath, she tried to read his expression, tried to know what was going to his mind, but nothing. He jerked his head, facing the other direction and sat on his throne. For some reason she couldn’t understand, her heart sank, deep into an ocean of confusion.

He hadn’t even glanced at her for a minute.

What was she thinking? She’d already chosen who she wanted, and there was no going back.

“His royal highness, the imperial duke!”

The shabby old man walked into the room, looking all smug and prideful in the robe he had on.

“The old man seems awful,” Meredith whispered sideways.

“Harry believes,” Amelia paused and instead said, “yes, he’s awful.”

“May the event begin!” The floor-manger bellowed as the people returned to the dance floor.

Amelia couldn’t help but watch the prince; he was standing up now and a lady was approaching—a gorgeous one. He held her hand like he’d once held hers and limped to the dance floor, flowing in rhythm with the music.

She felt a sting, turning her head to another direction.

“You don’t need him,” she continued to remind herself.

“My lady.”

She cocked her head, her gaze connecting with the gentleman in front of her. He was wearing a pleasant smile, but she hadn’t noticed.

“May I have this—”

“Sure,” Amelia sang, dragging him to the dance floor, her gaze sliding and landing on Harry. He caught her glimpse but whispered something to the lady he was dancing with who glanced back and began to chuckle.

Her heart sank. Was she mocking her?

“Are you alright, miss?” the gentleman asked. It was a logical question, of course. She was frowning.

Just before muttering a word, the music ended.

“Thank you,” she muttered to him, fleeing to Meredith’s side right after.

“Who’s the lady dancing with the prince?” she whispered curiously.

Meredith raised an amused brow. “She’s Francesca Flyer.”

Amelia blinked.

“Daughter of Maria Flyer?” she questioned abruptly, and Meredith nodded.

“Isn’t it strange though?” Meredith said, “the prince was clearly smitten with you and now…he’s suddenly getting engaged.”

“It is strange,” her wolf said, her eyes bulging.

Amelia turned. She needed to speak with Harry. There was definitely something amiss. He’d been suspecting his uncle, and now they were both chatting.

And the deaths…they’d suddenly stopped showing.

But Francesca, how was she connected to the whole theory?

Harry was now standing in front with her, his right hand up with a glass of wine. And the intent gaze of the congregation.

“This is to officially announce my engagement with Alpha Francesca Flyer,” he said blankly, and the people began to chant and celebrate.

“Congratulations, your highness!” They cheered in sync.

The duke strode to Harry’s side and patted his shoulder with an expression that seemed…feral.

Music began to play in the background, and Amelia remained still, trying to communicate with Harry.

“I’ll be back,” she whispered to Meredith, stalking to the front.

When she halted, she gazed at him, whispering and signaling for his attention, but Harry…he only gazed at her with no emotions.

He was acting like a mule.

She tightened her eyes contemplating on what to do. He’d shut his mind-link, hence no way to communicate.

But surely, he was her mate, there had to be a way through the blockage.

“Focus on him,” her wolf commanded. “You can do it, Amelia.”

She tightened her eyes trying to break the walls around them, her hands shivered as she fought her way in.

“Got you!” she said through the mind link.

And when Amelia gazed up at him, Harry heaved a sigh of defeat.