The Amorous Mate

Chapter 13: Craving Wolf

“Why have you not said that the dreamy Baron Lord was in the Chesterfield City?”

While Cassiopeia was dragging her sister’s hand, she unhesitatingly asked her question. They were to enter through the mausoleum’s door once again, but before they could, Cassiopeia made her stop. Then Chelsea noticed the spark of glimmering excitement feasting on her sister’s ocean-colored gazes.

Seeing Cassiopeia’s excitement, Chelsea panicked. She was panicking more than how she have reacted when Cassiopeia called her earlier while she and Lord Matthew was . . . well . . . talking.

“W-Well, maybe because he has also paid respect to the death of the King and the Crowned Prince,” Chelsea answered.

Though in fact, the truth was, she had no concrete, full idea why Lord Matthew visited the Chesterfield City.

Knowing that all his properties and wealth were located at the Province of Saxton, to stay in this far place shall be the least expected thing he could do.

Unless of course if he had business matters he need to tend. Or maybe some relative to visit. Or maybe because he just wanted to pay respect to the deceased royals.

Chelsea does not want to think that Lord Matthew went here in the Chesterfield City just because of her—or of Princess Demeter, to be exact.

Chelsea heard maliciousness intoned at the voice of her sister, Cassiopeia. When she looked at her, she saw her sister’s suspicious gaze.

“I would want to bet my life, my sister, to say that the lord did not only come in this pretentious place, just to mourn for Papa and Brother.”

“What do you mean?” Chelsea asked, bothered.

“He came here for you!”

After that claim, Cassiopeia giggled as if a teenager who have been asked by her crush for a date. She even squeezed Demeter’s hand from excitement.

“That’s absurd, Cassiopeia. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but he’s not.”

“But what if he is? What if he does? What if he really came here only because he wants to closely watch and guard you? Isn’t it romantic?” Cassiopeia asked with enthusiasm.

“That is absurd,” Chelsea replied.

“Oh what kind of romantic life you have had, Sister. How I wish I too know the bliss of having a gentleman as dashing as Lord Matthew that is closely taking care of my welfare. How I wish I too know the beauty of real romance, and not just passed down through words and letters made by fiction. How I wish I have someone who loves me as dearly as you,” Cassiopeia poetically recited.

“You’ll just get it, don’t rush things.”

Hearing that from Demeter, Cassiopeia’s forehead creased. “Are you perhaps alright, sister? Seems like you are not in yourself,” she asked.

“Huh? W-Why?” Chelsea stammered.

“I am certainly positive that my memory is not betraying me. When I talk about love and romance and fiction, you are the most enthusiastic someone who would listen and talk to me—Because you are always mesmerized by its mystery, much as how I am mesmerized too. But now . . . is there any problem? Aside of course from the death of Harry and Papa,” Cassiopeia asked. On her face was nothing but features of worries and questions.

“Th-There is no problem,” Chelsea awkwardly answered. She tried to laugh, but even her laugh turned an awkward chuckle. “I . . . I do love romance, yes, but I think that talking about the subject shouldn’t be our priority for now. P-Papa and Brother is dead. Shouldn’t we mourn for their sake first?”

Cassiopeia thought for a small minute. “I am nothing but sorry for that, sister. I guess you are correct. We should not talk about the thrill of Eros and Psyche now that we are suffering from deep sorrow. I only went excited when I saw you and Lord Matthew at the mausoleum’s back—TALKING.”

“Y-You know what, let’s just stop talking what has happened at the back of mausoleum, can we? Isn’t it Mama was looking for me?”

“Ah, yes, she do. Goodness gracious, I almost forgot!”

Cassiopeia again grabbed Demeter’s right hand. Instantly, she pulled her inside the mausoleum, their steps were in haste.

Still, there were many people that was inside the place, all wearing black, all mourning for the Royal loss.

When one of them would notice either Cassiopeia or her, Demeter, they would instantly made an elegant bow—a kind of bow that she should have done, when she paid respect to the Queen.

“Mama!” Cassiopeia called.

At their front, Chelsea could see the Queen wearing a fine, simple, but elegant-fitting black dress.

When the Queen heard Cassiopeia’s call for attention, she quickly looked at her back, to see the two of her finest daughters walking towards her. Seeing them, she warmly smiled.

“May Simon and Harry forgive me for being this glad in the middle of my mourning. Seeing my daughters holding each other’s hand as if they were still my babies, could make my happiness this kind of invigorated,” the Queen said.

Then, she gave both Demeter and Cassiopeia a hug.

“Thanks for the compliment, Mama. I am just glad that my sister Demeter is back in the palace. I just miss our old hangouts,” Cassiopeia replied.

However, when her eyes fixated at the new woman that is coming towards them, her mood instantly shifted.

“Unlike that brat older sister of ours.”

While still staring at the woman’s saunter, Cassiopeia whispered those words to Demeter.

Now, when Chelsea learned about her older sister, her eyes gravely widened in astonishment.

‘What? I have another sister to deal with?!’ she thought.

“Would anyone mind if I would join this royal conversation?” asked by the new woman who came.

Chelsea immediately saw the woman’s undesiring attitude. Though she has to admit that the woman’s beauty is next to divine, it was but her judging stares that anyone could notice first.

She was looking at Demeter with one of her eyebrows raised, looking as if she was judging her whole existence. Her arms were crossed on her chest, and the shimmering black-shaded tint coloring her lips has even added impact to her sharpness.

“Oh no, not at all, Princess Andromeda,” answered Cassiopeia. Yet, the way how she answered seemed sarcastic.

“I beg your pardon, ‘Third’ Princess Cassiopeia?” Princess Andromeda asked, stressing the word ‘third’.

“Oh I forgot. ‘First’ Princess Andromeda, must I correct.” Cassiopeia bit her lips and then rolled her eyes because she was feeling irritated to their older sister.

'First’ Princess Andromeda’s stares slipped back to Demeter.

“Oh, look who is here,” she exclaimed, pretending that she was surprised seeing Demeter. “The Princess-branded-prodigy to all the things she is interested to do with.”

Andromeda approached Demeter. She gave her a peck of kiss on her cheeks along with a quick half-hug.

“Uhm, hi Andromeda,” Chelsea awkwardly greeted. She smiled, but her cheeks were shaking. She too waved her hand but just like her cheeks, it was frantically shuddering.

“Heaven knows how I badly missed you, my dear sister. Perhaps, love for family is greater than your own feeling of anger and madness.” She emphasized the last two words she bleated. “I mean, after you left us here in the palace, running far away, and pretending the life of a Duchess of Saxton, leaving all your mad responsibility here in the palace, with no choice but for me to take it, why must I get mad at you?”

Chelsea could not reply.

“Mama, would you mind reminding our older sister how Papa deployed Demeter to the Saxton Province merely because he saw potential in her of being a leader?”

“I beg your pardon once again, Cassiopeia. Who said you could interrupt?” Andromeda intoned.

“Plus the fact how you and Papa was glad after knowing that Demeter was leading Saxton in prosperity?” Cassiopeia added to her mother, undisturbed. There was a small smirk peering from the corner of her lips.

“Here goes again with your unstoppable bickering,” the Queen said as she lightly chuckled. “It would be nice for the both of you to stop, even only for this moment. I would be glad if you halt all your quarrels and shallow hatreds in respect to your brother and Papa’s burial.”

The Queen may have a sweet, lulling voice, but Chelsea was fascinated to hear that behind those sweetness, is a voice of dominance and power.

She was sweet, but at the same time, she seemed to secretly learnt the art of how to bear dominance and power as the Kingdom’s highest ruler. Soon as their mother finished her words, Cassiopeia and Andromeda’s childish quarrelling has stopped.

“Remember sister, never hang out with our ‘First’ Princess sister. I know you nothing but sweet and easy to forgive and forget. But I must remind you what kind of varying trick has she did to you just to lessen the value of your honor. She is a witch,” with grudge, Cassiopeia whispered to Chelsea.

“If she is as bad as how you hate her, then don’t worry, I can just easily punch her straight in the face, you know,” Chelsea whispered back.

“Demeter, that is barbaric!” Cassiopeia exclaimed. “Though I’d like to see how she would react if a fist landed on her ugly face.”

The two giggled in delight because of their jokes about their evil sister.

Chelsea thought, Cassiopeia is a sweet lady. She has a very light aura that anyone would get easy to be comfortable with.

Though she seemed talkative and fancies too much about romance and stuffs, Chelsea liked the personality of her new-found sister.

Back in the modern world, she never experienced hanging out with any of her blood-related sisters. She had two sisters then.

But because her mother had thought them not to hang out with her, added by her exposure on how she was being mistreated, they had grown spoiled and wicked like Andromeda.

It was marked then on her two sisters’ mind that she was not valuable and should not be wasted of energy to get touched.

It was as if she was treated as a lowly living being. Just like how the elites in this world treats the poor as rats.

More often than not, she was even being teased by them as an orphan and a fake daughter.

**

“Sister, do you really think we could get drunk by this mere raspberry juice?” Cassiopeia raised her left eyebrow as she asked her unbelieving question.

“This is better than wine or alcohol, Cassiopeia,” Chelsea answered.

They were standing beside a table filled with wines and alcohols. Sipping the delightful flavor of raspberry juice—which Chelsea had asked to the servants—Cassiopeia complained.

“But didn't I . . . secretly plead you to ask servants for an alcohol or, wine? I told you! I, more than anyone else, wanted to know what is the taste of those, isn't it? Even beer.” She pouted her lips. She also blinked her eyes to add a pitying effect.

However, Chelsea will never buy the kind of trick her sister was pulling.

“Cassiopeia, you are too young to try those.”

“But I am in the moment of blooming! I am not a child anymore. I am becoming a woman, and I only need to wait one more year to become as adult as you!”

“But the point is, you are not. Yet. Until then, you are not allowed to drink any kind of those adult’s drink,” Chelsea, acting like she was a mother, had reasoned.

“Ugh! You and Mama are equally the same.” Cassiopeia crossed her arms on her chest and started to get mad.

“You have read a lot of novels, I am sure.”

“I do,” Cassiopeia answered angrily.

“Then you must have read scenes from those novels. About ladies being drunk.”

“Duh. That is exactly the reason why I wanted to get drunk. I wanted to know the feeling of it, and perhaps, maybe, just like those ladies who have drunk miserably, as if it was destiny to meet their partners in that state, would then I’ll get to find my own soulmate too!”

“But you are most certainly aware that they have done embarrassing things when they get drunk, right?”

Cassiopeia failed to respond.

“And in most certain times, it happens in front of their soon to be man. Oh, the level of embarrassment. Do you think you could handle that if it was you?” Chelsea asked wickedly.

“You know sister, I wonder why raspberry juice tasted this fine.” As if the wind changed, Cassiopeia looked admiringly at the glass of her juice before she took another sip from it.

“I wonder why too,” Chelsea replied.

At the back of her mind, however, she felt triumphant. Cassiopeia’s personality could be easily read. She instantly knew what were the things she was and was not into. That is the reason why she have felt immediate connection to her.

Still, they were inside the mausoleum and tending to the visitors who wanted to pay respect to the king and the prince. The Queen and their branded ‘evil’ sister had broke off to the group, because they said they have important visitors they need to entertain.

Leaving Demeter and Cassiopeia without anything to accomplish, they decided to stroll a little longer inside the place (it was the idea of Cassiopeia because she thought it would be romantic if she could find an ideal man that would comfort her as she cries and mourn for the death of her father and brother).

Now, as they stood beside a table, sipping for the sweetness of their juice, their mother suddenly appeared at their front.

As she wears her admirable, sweet smile, she was holding a gentleman’s hand.

“Ladies,” the Queen called, “I would like you to meet Prince Nigel Winchester: the second prince coming from our neighboring kingdom, the Winchester Monarchy. He is here to pay respect to your brother.”

Chelsea stared at the gentleman. She could clearly see from his aura that he is a noble man bearing with power and dominance. Yet, from his gazing eyes and warm smile, the Prince was nothing but sweet and a humble gentleman.

His handsome face was beyond immaculate. His body, though covered with fitted black suit, was screaming toned hard built of muscles. Her hair, an auburn in color, adds to his asset.

In short, the second Prince of Winchester Monarchy is every woman’s dream man. Chelsea could testify it from the stares of other visitors inside the mausoleum.

“Your brother is a very special friend of mine. I am here to grieve with you from his sudden death,” the Second Prince from the Winchester Monarchy empathically said. Then, he slightly bowed in front of the Princesses.

“Please be comfortable with the Nightingale Kingdom’s hospitality,” Cassiopeia replied.

“I do, my Princess. Perhaps, if I am not mistaken, you, lovely lady is the Third Princess of the Nightingales. Princess Cassiopeia Nightingale,” the prince concluded.

“That is truthful,” replied Cassiopeia along with a slight bow.

“And . . . this gem in the darkest night must be the princess that every man was talking about, dreaming to be their wife, even in the far corners of the Winchester’s land. You must be the Second Princess Demeter Nightingale.”

For a moment, Chelsea was shocked from the Prince’s words. “Wow, I uh . . . I’m not—I mean, yes I am.”

“It was lovely to meet you, my Princess.” Prince Nigel softly asked for the Princess’ hand.

Even confused, Chelsea awkwardly gave it to the Prince. Then, as the Prince kissed the Princess’ hand, everyone inside the mausoleum gasped and started to whisper. Their gossiping voices swirled inside the mausoleum.

‘Wow, uhm, what is happening?’ Chelsea thought.

“This is a morbid romance, sister. Or maybe the climactic part of your colorful love life. Whom would you choose: the man you secretly desire, or the man who have publicly confessed his love for you?” Cassiopeia whispered to her.

“What do you mean, Cassiopeia?”

“Look at your front, past the Prince Nigel’s back,” instructed her sister.

When Chelsea did what her sister told, she saw the most sharp, fatal stare she has ever seen in her life.

Past Prince Nigel’s back, belonging on the crowd of audience, is where Lord Matthew was standing.

His sharp stare was directly piercing towards her, as if he was a hungry wolf craving for his food.