The Amorous Mate

Chapter 26: The Eyes of Judgement

“Oh, look, sister. It’s Lord Burglesse!” Cassiopeia whispered to Princess Demeter with excitement as they walked in the Chesterfield square.

Curious of what Cassiopeia was pointing at, she looked at the gentleman standing beside the statue of the late king before her supposed father. She saw a blonde man that was tightly looking at them. When he realized that they were looking at him too, he pulled off his cap and bowed his head as a sign for recognition and respect.

“That, sister, is one of your suitors. Have you forgot?” Cassiopeia giggled.

“What? He is one of my suitors?” Demeter asked, shocked. “That middle-aged, fat man who have his suit about to burst from his ballooning belly? That’s gross!” she complained, knowing that if by any chance, the man would be his husband, she would curse the life she has had in this world.

Cassiopeia once again giggled, she clung to her arms to mock her sister more.

“Perhaps you must know that he is the most sought after eligible bachelor of the season today,” she said, raising her brows up and down. Demeter looked back at her sister curiously.

“He is the heir of a powerful viscount in the city. Do you know what that means? He is powerful and rich.” She looked above the sky, and stared dreamily at the blueness of the shade above. “And oh what power could be more than the power of the visionary love, but money,” she poetically casted.

“What do you mean, Cassiopeia?”

At their path of walk, two perfectly matched pairs was about to cross their path. They smiled at them and bowed as respect.

“What I mean is, once you have the power, many will approach and look after you. For the sake of money. For the sake of power,” Cassiopeia cleared.

“Like that fat viscount?” she asked.

“Indeed. Heaven knows how many elite women was chasing after him. Not because they love him, but because they love his wealth and power.”

“But then why is he a suitor of mine?” Demeter asked. She casted a glimpse at the big gentleman, and saw him still staring at her. Shiver ran down her spine.

“Apparently, he has the vision of getting all the power he thought he can have. I have heard that he always spend his night on a far cabaret outside the city, f*****g every woman who presents naked on his front. One of our servants, the assistant head baker saw him at that place. He was talking to his boastful and full of air in their heads friends. Do you know what the assistant baker heard?”

“What?”

“That he only need few more efforts, and you, the second princess of the Nightingales will now finally fall in love with him,” Cassiopeia gossiped.

Hearing that, Chelsea fumed in anger. “Whatever that Burglesse plan was, he will never get me. He will fall from his power, you will see,” she said.

Again, Cassiopeia giggled. “Oh, the confidence is divine, sister! I would like to witness one day a woman beating a gentleman’s butt without any worry or fear.” Cassiopeia wiggled her eyebrows. Demeter did the same as well, and because both of them found their actions humoring, both of them laughed.

“Must you not become shameful ladies Demeter? Cassiopeia?” without expecting, First Princess Andromeda interfered their conversation.

Andromeda was in their front, ever show-off, flaunting her beauty to their promenade, while deliberately covering her sisters with her presence. She has brought unbelievably huge number of servants and because of that, the other princesses, Demeter and Cassiopeia were covered from her parade-like promenade. Blooming white gown, huge umbrella made of feathers, and big numbers of servants—those were the things that she brought, compared to Demeter and Cassiopeia who only wore a simple dress, and brought no servants—not even Venida nor Vennett. The First Princess intended to bring such, because she wants to be in the spotlight of this promenade, simply because if she dressed the same way as the two princess, she was afraid that she will be left behind. Demeter and Cassiopeia has effortless beauty and presence—unlike her, sadly.

From Andromeda’s interruption, Chelsea saw Cassiopeia rolling her eyes, irritated. She laughed. “Why are you so triggered to her, Cassiopeia?”

“Who would not be? She’s such a showoff,” Cassiopeia answered.

“Well, perhaps it was because she was just showing her urge and desire to be the kingdom’s future Queen.”

“Or maybe she was just threatened to you, for apparently, people dreamt of you being the next queen. Not her,” Cassiopeia pointed out.

Chelsea saw through the mischief done by her sister. She intently louden her voice after saying her assumptions about their older sister’s actions. Because of that, Andromeda glared at them. Her face smoldered with glittering powder was fuming in red shades, as if she was a tomato.

“I heard that, sister. However, I have to burst your bubbles. I am not—never— threatened to this woman. Never.” She pointed Demeter to add more impact in her claim. However, instead Chelsea being threatened or feeling scared from Andromeda’s act, she found herself trying so hard to hide her laugh.

Yet, a small amount of it escaped. “Pfft!”

Andromeda looked at her, both shocked and furious. “To what are you laughing at, Demeter?!” she said, mad.

“Sorry. It was just, uhm, I just remember something funny. But that doesn’t mean I was laughing at you. I’m not, swear.” Chelsea half-raised her hand, as if promising that her intention of laughing was not about Andromeda. However, she intended to have a mischievous look still plastered on her face. She was smiling, gazing at her with an innocent, foolish-looking stare, but Andromeda knew that she was just acting—and that she intently made it obvious that she was only but acting.

Seeing that, Andromeda became more irritated. But knowing that she could not do anything (now that they were in public) she grunted, irritated. She stomped her feet, and turned her back to them.

“This is madness!” she complained, but she continued walking in the Chesterfield square, still wearing her fake smile.

Chelsea looked at Cassiopeia. She winked at her. Both of them giggled because they have successfully ruined the day of their sister. They were walking at Chesterfield square, fulfilling their weekly routine of promenade.

The Chesterfield square is a lively place. It has beautiful sceneries, with groups of trees sturdily standing at perfect distances with each other, just beside the walkway, serving as people’s shade. There was a crystal-clear lake, enjoined with the patterns of waves made by the calm wind. Everyday, there were full of noble men and women walking in the square, talking and catching up with each other. This was a place for the noble people to spend amd waste their time over socializing.

It maybe entertaining to others, but it was utterly boring for Chelsea. Yet she has to endure it because this was the norm. Besides, it was somehow bearable, knowing that Cassiopeia was around, ready to talk to her and give her gossips.

As they continued walking, they heard Andromeda suddenly exclaiming, calling someone’s name.

“Oh, my Prince Nigel!” she yelled.

Prince Nigel was on their far front, walking towards them with charm. His smile was every woman’s haven, for it was ethereal. His copper-blonde hair was shining along with the sun. By the way he walk, his well-toned body was flaunting even without his effort. He is a perfect prince.

“I did not expect you will be promenading here as well! It was a bit thick-faced for me to assume, but perhaps it was because of me why you decided to spend time in the square?” Princess Andromeda asked, unashamed. The way how she acted in front of the Prince was surely a form of flirting.

“Well, a good morning to you, Princess Andromeda. Indeed, I came here in the square, expecting you to promenade. But, to be precise, I came here for . . .” His eyes travelled to its searching, and when it reached Demeter’s gazes, it stopped. “. . . someone,” he continued.

“Ow!” Chelsea complained when she felt a painful pinching at her belly. It was from Cassiopeia. She glared at her, but Cassiopeia only wiggled her eyebrows, as if mocking her. They did not realize that Prince Nigel already walked towards them.

“Why, even this early morning, your beauty is as dashing as the admirable moonlight, your highness?” he said, and then he bowed at her front.

“Oh, hi. Good morning Prince Nigel.”

“A pleasant morning too, Princess Demeter.” He smiled.

Cassiopeia coughed. Their attentions went towards her.

“Perhaps the two of you shall promenade on your own pair. Never worry about me, or us, or my older sister who is apparently screaming inside her head because of jealousy, rage, and embarrassment she herself has made. Everything’s fine here,” she said, smiling. She pushed their servants, ordering to continue their walk and leave the prince and the princess behind.

“B-But . . .”

“Have your delightful day, sister!” Cassiopeia exclaimed, winking at the both of them. From that, Prince Nigel chuckled.

“Your Sister, Princess Cassiopeia, she’s a lovely young lady,” he started the conversation once again.

Chelsea awkwardly nodded. But then, just for the sake of not ruining the mood, she smiled at him and answered. “She is. But if you are planning to have more conversation with her, you will feel dry when she started talking about books—and the romance found in those books.”

As they talked, they continued their walking—a paired walk.

Again, Prince Nigel chuckled. “Well, I do understand her for that part. Apparently, I love books too, and even wished that someday, I will have my own romantic story I could write as a book,” he said, looking at her.

Chelsea awkwardly laughed. She averted her gaze at other place.

“That’s . . . that’s good for you,” she said, not knowing how she will be complimenting the Prince.

Chelsea noticed how they were being watched by the awed stares of the noblemen and women present in the square while she and the prince was talking. She does not know what the people was thinking about them, but seeing how they smiled while chatting, Chelsea somehow assumed that they were talking about her and the prince in a good way.

“Why, do you not love reading books?” Prince Nigel asked.

“I do. Yes, I do. But I don’t binge read unlike my sister,” she said. “That would make my head crack open.”

Prince Nigel smiled as he looked down the ground, thinking of something.

“What’s the matter, Prince Nigel?” Chelsea asked.

“Nothing. I was just pondering about what you said.”

Chelsea stared at him, curious.

“About your head going to crack open. It triggered a familiar story I have been reading when I was a child.”

“Wow, you’re crazy if as a child, you have already read a brutal murder-themed book where the murderer likes to crack open the victims' heads.”

For a moment, Prince Nigel’s eyes widened in shock. Then after, he laughed so loud that everyone in the square has heard him.

“That is not what I mean, your highness,” the Prince said. “The one I read was about a goddess. She was just like you. Strong, beautiful, full of wits, and knew how to fight for the right. It was said she was the goddess of wisdom. She was born from her father’s head. Cutting the story, her father had headaches until one time, his head cracked open. From the opened space, that goddess emerged.”

“Oh,” Chelsea was surprised. She was not expecting that such story also exists in this world. “That must be Athena, the goddess of wisdom, you are telling.”

“Indeed, she is,” the Prince agreed.

From afar, Chelsea saw Princess Cassiopeia waving her hand towards them. She called one among the servants, and whispered something. The servant quickly ran towards Princess Demeter.

“Your Highness, Princess Cassiopeia wants to tell you that it was about time for you to visit the Modiste,” the servant brought.

“How unfortunate it was, Prince Nigel, but I think it is time for me to go. We are to go to the Modiste for our gown fitting,” she said, talking like how the noblewomen speaks. She pretended that she was sad from the servant’s news, for she will left the Prince. Little did he know, she was actually glad to get rid of him.

“Do not worry, your highness. I do not have any plans for now. Perhaps, I can accompany you to the Modiste. That is if that is what you like.”

“Oh,” she awkwardly chuckled, not expecting that the prince could be this annoying. “That . . . that would be delightful,” she said. Apparently, she had no choice but to let him be with them, because his face and stares tells her that he wanted to.

Prince Nigel smiled after hearing Princess Demeter. He was glad the Princess let him accompany her.

The two of them, along with the other princesses, rode the royal carriage, and they all travelled towards the Modiste. They chatted, talked about random things, and laughed about random jokes. Of course, Andromeda being a show-off, she has been telling jokes to the Prince. However, it would only end into an awkward silence with only Princess Andromeda trying hard to laugh at her own jokes.

Reaching the Modiste’s shop, the Princesses and Prince Nigel all went out from the carriage. They were still laughing and throwing jokes at each other.

Chelsea could not stop from laughing because of Cassiopeia’s recall of the humorous scene she read on a book. She only stopped when she saw someone sitting on a bench, in front of the Modiste’s shop. He was pale and seemingly weak, but no one could deny the still handsome features he possesses.

“Lord Matthew?” Princess Demeter asked.

The gentleman stood. With a grim face, she walked towards her. “Princess Demeter,” he said. “May I have a bit of your time?”

The silence in the surrounding was defeaning. “I . . . uhm . . .”

“I fear she does not have time, Baron Lord,” suddenly, Prince Nigel interrupted. His face was serious and his voice was deep. By the way how he talked, it seemed he had attempted to demean Lord Matthew’s lowly Baron rank. “She has to fit her gown to the Modiste.”

“Then what must a Prince that does not belong to this kingdom doing beside the princess?”

“Accompanying her,” Prince Nigel reasoned.

“Then I too wants to accompany Princess Demeter.”

“You cannot. A man could not enter the shop.”

“Hence you could not enter as well. You seem to forget you are a man as well.”

“I am a prince, you are a lowly Baron. Know the difference, Matthew,” Prince Nigel challenged.

“Enough!” from the friction that was forming, Chelsea stood between them, raging. “None of you will go to the Modiste. Wait here, outside, if you want.”

“No!” It was then the time when Princess Cassiopeia interrupted. She was looking at them, amused and smiling. “That is a wrong decision, sister. Don’t you know that a man’s taste in fashion is impeccable?”

Chelsea looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Let them join us inside. They will be our eyes of judgement.”

Chelsea’s face queried. “Eyes of . . . what?”

“Since we dress to impress, and mostly, we dress to attract gentlemen for a dance in the ball, let them be our jury. A judge to what gown suits us better. That would be exciting, isn’t it?”