The Amorous Mate

Chapter 23: The Princess' Seek For Truth

“I believe you have some troubles stirring your mind, your Highness.”

Chelsea jolted from her seat when in the sheathed silence, Gwynneth broke and asked her attention. They were riding in the canoe they were using to sail, to reach the hidden Silver Feather Mansion.

Amidst her shock, Chelsea answered her question. “No, No … I am okay, Gwynneth. It’s just that . . . I was occupied about the ball.”

She rearranged the hood blanketing her head. She also cleared her throat in hope that she could get rid of the awkwardness filling in their tight spaces.

“Ah, the ball! I have heard lots of people in the city talking about that. Seems they were both enthralled and excited.” Gwyneth smiled as she continued paddling for the canoe to move.

“I am just bothered, Gwynneth. I don’t know a thing. You see, the reason why I am going to the Silver Feather Mansion is that because—”

“Because you seemed having an unexplainable ill, forgetting most of the things you’ve had known in your entire life. All of that was because of the trauma made from your father and brother’s passing—at the very least, that was what Lord Matthew explained to me.” Gwynneth cut.

Chelsea’s forehead creased. She did not expect that Lord Matthew already made a feasible excuse for her sake, so that she would worry no more while wandering on the mansion, troubled explaining, or inventing reasons to the mansion's residents, just for the sake of her being trusted. She was a foreign object in the mansion, so she knew she was not easily welcomed by the people around. But when she heard Gwynneth, she had the impression that there was nothing to be worried anymore, because everything will be fine.

“Yes, that’s it. That is why I am wondering how shall I act on that ball. I was told I’m not allowed to ditch it, damn it. You see, I don’t even know how to f*****g dance.”

Chelsea took the liberty of abusing the situation. However, she forgot controlling her rage, making her spat crisp of curses. She was irritated because even though she have been imagining fantastical things in the event (such as dancing with Lord Matthew), it would be instantly ruined when she would remember the truth of her inability to partake a royal dance. Her perfect, enchanting imaginations for the ball would be quickly damaged by some imaginative, embarrassing scenes. Stepping on a gentleman’s feet, getting laughed at by other women for being a bad dancer, or worse . . . ruining the whole event—these were the things that kept Chelsea doubting for her attendance in the ball.

“That is the reason why we are off to the mansion, isn’t it?” Gwynneth asked. Still, her sweet smile was plastering on her face. “Beatrix can help you with that.”

“I hope so.” She sighed. “But knowing that her first impression to me is utterly bad—which, uhm, I mirrored to her as well—I don’t think we’ll have a good chemistry. She might perhaps even wish for me to be embarrassed in the ball rather than helping me.” Her worries were vivid on her troubled face.

“Oh, never say that, your Highness. Yesterday, when you courageously stood on your feet, all for the sake of saving her husband, of Jullian, you have no idea how she was more than thankful to you.”

“I doubt that, Gwynneth. She did not even went near me for a talk. I don’t even know if I would get a proper training from her. Maybe today, just like yesterday, I will only waste my time.”

Hearing Chelsea’s troubles, Gwynneth only shrugged and smiled. She continued paddling until they reached the mansion’s territory. When they finally set their feet back on the ground, the first thing Chelsea noticed was Beatrix. Standing alone at their far front, she was smiling hospitably, as if she was a steward who was joyously welcoming their guests. Of course, Chelsea was stunned soon as she saw the unexpected curve on Beatrix’s lips. She stood at the riverbank, awkward, unsure of what she must do next. She almost had the urge to take few steps back when she realized Beatrix was now running towards her. Still, her beautiful smile—which seemed horrible for Chelsea—was plastered on her face.

“Oh, heavens! I have been waiting for you, Princess Demeter.” Finally reaching near Princess Demeter, Beatrix expressed her longing. To add another element of surprise into the unexpected, Beatrix took Chelsea’s hand. She gently entwined her fingers to her, and when done, she pulled Chelsea for a run.

“Make haste. We’ll have a full day of training to bring you back as a princess! Heaven knows how excited I am.” Running with Beatrix towards the mansion, Chelsea scanned and looked at where Gwynneth was standing. The woman was still beside the river bank, sweetly smiling at her, watching her being dragged by Beatrix. She confidently shrugged her shoulders as if saying, “I told you, your Highness. Beatrix will definitely help you.”

Chelsea soon realized that they were already inside the Silver Feather Mansion. Had the front door did not slap a close, she would not notice she was already inside.

Past the living area, Chelsea immediately saw Lord Matthew sitting. He was busy over something. She almost wanted to slap her own face when a thought of realization passed through her: that it seemed her eyes were a magnet by the Lord’s physique. Because, there were different things that could possibly steal her attention in the living area. There were antiques and brightly-colored furniture that was displayed. In a natural case, the first thing she should notice must be those sparkling items.

But damn all the luck, for her eyes went to him. And his body. His well-toned, divine-sculptured body.

Beside Lord Matthew was Jullian. Chelsea also recognized him. Compared to his bloody, paled face yesterday, Jullian is much better today. In fact, he was lively. She too realized how Beatrix would justify her one-among-many-reasons why she married the man: because he too was handsome—though Chelsea has to admit that it was Lord Matthew who dominates the mien and made Jullian look like only an average guy.

“The Princess is here.” Beatrix disturbed the squealing silence in between the two working men.

Matthew and Jullian simultaneously flipped down the papers they were holding, reading, just so they could only recognize the Princess' presence.

“Uhm, hello,” with all the awkwardness glaring at her, she waved her hand as a sign of greeting for the two men.

Chelsea’s stare once again landed at Lord Matthew’s face. It was a relief for her that when she stared, the Lord Matthew’s attention was not in her—instead in the entwined hands of her and Beatrix.

“Y-Your Highness!” Beside Lord Matthew, Jullian hastily stood up. In discomposure, he bowed in front of Princess Demeter. “It is a pleasant morning today, isn’t it, your Highness?” Jullian added.

Chelsea chuckled. “Yeah, it was a pleasant morning. The sun’s not abnormally hot today, and the nipping morning breeze are just fine to me,” she said.

Beatrix and the Lord Matthew were doing nothing, but observing the two newly met individuals. Though the fact that Princess Demeter has seen Jullian yesterday, they haven’t had a formal introduction yet—bearing the condition and circumstances that has happened to Jullian, indeed, it was deadly impossible. Hence, this might be the most suited time for them to properly introduce each other.

When silence stirred in the surrounding, Chelsea saw Jullian peeking at her while he was still locked with his gentlemanly bowing. Yet, when their stares clashed, Jullian anxiously retrieved his gaze, pressed it on the ground, and admit submission.

“Hey, Jullian, you don’t need to get awkward to me, you kn—”

“T-The day before today,” Jullian intervened from Princess Demeter's supposed-to-be suggestion. He was stammering. “I . . . I am beyond thankful, your Highness. If . . . If not because of your help, I would have . . . I would have been . . . dead by now.”

Hearing his words, Chelsea felt the tightening of Beatrix’s hands entwined with her. That simple act, that simple move, Chelsea already knew how much Jullian meant for Beatrix.

In hope that she should be calmed, Chelsea glanced at Beatrix. The woman replied to her stare. From their gazes, Chelsea gave a warm, genuine smile at her, as if she was trying to comfort the anxiety that was attempting to cripple her mind.

Soon after, her gaze went back to Jullian. “What happened is what had happened, dude. Everything is now okay, isn’t it? Besides, I will always be glad to offer help to someone who needs it.”

Hearing her assurance, Jullian smiled. Slowly, he stood up. He stared at the Princess with a satisfied, gratifying gaze.

“Heaven knows how thankful I am to you, your Highness,” Jullian again addressed.

“It’s not a problem.” Chelsea gave her one final beam before her attention went back to the Baron Lord.

“By the way, Matthew, what happened to the people who helped surveying the woods yesterday? Are they fine?” she asked.

Lord Matthew’s attention were now back on the pieces of paper he was holding. It seemed he was busy reading clerical papers, for Chelsea could see some sheets scattered around all about accounts and transactions. Seemed that it was a business matter.

However, to adhere at the Princess’ question, he nodded his head. “They are fine. Strong as wolf,” he answered.

Hearing Lord Matthew’s answer, Jullian and Beatrix chuckled. They tried suppressing their small chortles but the inside humor from Lord Matthew’s answer was too strong. Because of that, Princess Demeter was left nothing but confused.

“That’s good to hear.” Chelsea answered awkwardly. Her stares were ping-ponged from Beatrix, to Jullian, then to the Lord Matthew.

“We must move, your Highness. I doubt today’s time would suffice us from so much lessons we have to learn today. First off, the elegance of a lady in a ball.”

Admitting a temporary farewell, Beatrix pulled Princess Demeter upstairs. In a specific room on the mansion’s second floor, they find themselves about to inhabit, spending the whole day’s time in doing nothing but learning about the basics and how to’s of a noble lady.

When in the room, Chelsea remembered something: “I remember, Beatrix. Your legs were badly broken yesterday, isn’t it? How did it become fixed in just one day?”

Beatrix was smoothening the creases of the sofa’s cover cloth when she received the question. From that, she chuckled.

“I must say, I have a peculiar physique, your Highness. I can quickly heal my wounds and broken bones in only a short period of time.”

Her reasoning has what made Chelsea look at her with a disbelieving stare. From that, Beatrix challenged her and stared back at the Princess. However, after few seconds, she could not hold her bursting laugh anymore.

“What is it, your Highness?” she asked as she laughed. “Would you not believe my sole reason?”

Chelsea shook her head as an answer.

“I can't buy your excuse. That’s a badly broken leg yesterday. I personally saw it. And, I don’t think that will be a ‘quick to heal’ type of injury, as you claim.”

Again, Beatrix laughed.

“Indeed, indeed, it is not,” she finally claimed. “But yesterday, you have witnessed yourself how my husband rose from its . . . near death, haven’t you? It was you who have brought the Moon Flower to him.”

“Uhuh . . . then that means, you were healed by the Moon Flower as well?”

Beatrix nodded with a smile.

“A single Moon Flower can heal three people at most, your Highness. One drop of juice from a Moon Flower’s petal is enough to cure any forms of pain or illness one wol—” she stopped, remembering something she should not tell “—person was experiencing.”

“So that means Gwyneth cured your injury as well?”

Again, Beatrix nodded.

“She cured me that night after she safely escorted you back to the Chesterfield City.”

“That Moon Flower . . . it is a mystery, you know?” Chelsea walked towards the sofa and sat on it, wondering about the bearing power of that glowing flower.

“It is not a mystery for us, your Highness. It was a blessing,” Beatrix explained.

“But still, it is a mystery for me. And maybe to the rest of the Nightingale Kingdom. I mean, I don’t see anyone in the city using Moon Flower’s power to cure illnesses.”

“Because Moon Flower only works for . . . special people.”

“Special people? You mean, you’re kind’a . . . special in one way or another?”

Beatrix sighed. Trying to calculate everything that she must explain, she sat beside Chelsea. “I am certain, there is a right time for you to know everything. But for now, it is better for you if at the very least, you would stay ignorant still. One says, ‘ignorance is a bliss’, isn’t it?”

“Hey, I’ve heard that line before. That ‘she who must know everything in the right time’ thing. Damn, I’m not inside a movie, right?”

“Movie?” Beatrix asked.

Chelsea waved her hand. “Nevermind,” she said, realizing that movies does not exist in this world.

Beatrix sighed. “For now, what we must do is the thing that you actually intend here for. Have you forgot about the coming Wetherby’s first ball of Spring?”

Chelsea admitted defeat.

“Alright. Let’s just set aside that Moon Flower thing for now. I have to keep my focus and learn about ‘how to be a real princess’ f****d up thing first. You’re going to teach me, right?”

“Indeed, your highness. Much obliged.”

**

From the piles of account papers that was spread on the small table arranged in the living area, Jullian was feeling uncomfortable. He twitched left and right, forehead is creased and worried.

Lord Matthew, who was beside Jullian, scornfully stared at him. It is a warning for Jullian, because he was disturbing the Lord. Yet, Jullian’s worries has lead him to form a query.

“Alpha, is she really that true?”

“What truth?” Lord Matthew asked.

“That it is true she is not the once notable second Princess of Nightingale Kingdom, but an impostor?”

Lord Matthew sighed. His stare went back again to the paper he was holding and reading.

“I have told you once, Beta. Yet, for the sake of your seemingly failing recollection, that woman is neither true nor an impostor. Her soul was trapped inside the body of the Princess. At least, that is what I know.”

“But then, why are we helping her? Well, aside from the fact that you are romantically connected to the real Princess, but—”

When Lord Matthew’s glare seemingly became a glowing fire, Jullian decided to zip his mouth. One more word, and sure, he will be facing the judgement of death. Inside him is a long howl of his wolf that translates his correct action of not being a stupid inquisitor.

“It is a task destined to us, Beta. Someone powerful asked us to help her.”

“I . . . I see,” Jullian nervously replied. “But who must that be? That someone powerful, as you say?”

Again, Matthew sighed. His stare at the account of papers lying in the table seemed it would start a fire any minute from now.

“You know we never considered someone more powerful than us, unless it is the one who blessed us the power in our blood. From that, you would know.”

Jullian’s eyes widened. He swallowed the lump on his throat.