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Chapter 15
So… not yet, then.
I shook the thought, only for Vincent to speak gently.
“Amelia, you sent me lilies.”
I smiled at him as though it were nothing.
“Ah, lilies are beautiful flowers… but unfortunately, I’m allergic to them.”
“Really?
I had no idea.”
Vincent touched his chin with mock innocence, then added smoothly,
“I’ll see to it that the maid who brought them is punished.
Tell me what will appease your anger?”
“The maid only did as she was told.
I have no intention of venting my temper on someone beneath me.
The one who gave the order, however… that would be another matter.”
At my pointed reply, Vincent’s smile thinned.
He didn’t answer at once.
He must have realised I’d meant him.
Just then, our salads arrived.
I noticed a difference immediately.
Mine was sprinkled with raisins.
He was not.
Ah… so Vincent dislikes raisins, does he?
He spoke again.
“Then, Amelia what do you intend to do?”
“Like this.”
He watched me intently, and I gave him a bright smile.
Then I reached across and swapped our plates.
“A fiancé who doesn’t even know his betrothed’s allergies ought to take responsibility, don’t you think?”
If I had stayed among the lilies, I would have spent the whole day sneezing and weeping a pitiful sight indeed.
Vincent gave a bitter smile at the raisin-covered dish before him.
He seemed to understand the point, but he didn’t lash out.
Lifting his fork, he spoke slowly.
“You seem… different from the woman I once knew.”
I froze, just for a heartbeat, before forcing myself to lift my own fork in turn.
“And so do you, Your Highness.
You’ve changed as well.
Though… haven’t we had this conversation before?”
His fork hesitated, then moved again.
“Perhaps we have.”
I watched him pop a raisin into his mouth, his expression faintly twisting.
I hid a smile, spearing an almond sliver from my plate.
Nutty and crisp.
To be honest, I didn’t much like raisins either.
As I crunched through fresh greens, I glanced toward the corridor leading from the kitchens.
A servant was approaching, tray balanced on his palm.
My breath caught.
Two glasses rested on the tray.
Just like the vision I’d seen earlier.
Step by step, he drew nearer.
Vincent gave me a puzzled look, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away, timing my move.
When the servant passed behind Vincent’s chair, I sprang to my feet.
Now!
“Ahh!”
The tray wobbled, and the servant cried out.
And I caught it with both hands, steadying it before the glasses could spill.
Not a drop was lost.
Silence fell.
Dozens of eyes pressed on me.
“Ahem… you ought to be more careful,” I said awkwardly.
The servant blinked as though waking from a daze, then bowed his head repeatedly.
“I-I’m so sorry!
Forgive me!”
Another attendant rushed over, bowing deeply.
“Our apologies, Your Highness!
He’s only just begun service here please pardon his mistake.”
“Accidents happen,” I said lightly, turning to Vincent with an expectant look.
“Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”
Of course, if the drink had spilt on him, no one would call it a mere accident.
Remember this, nameless servant I just saved your life.
“Charles.
Apologise properly,” Vincent ordered.
Ah, so his name was Charles.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness.
I’ll be more careful in the future.”
Vincent gave no reply, only pointed at me.
“And to the lady.”
Charles flushed, bowing again.
“Forgive me, my lady.
And… thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Charles,” I said kindly.
At my smile, his face reddened further.
I sat down again.
Vincent regarded me with a curious expression.
“Are you unharmed, Amelia?
I never imagined you had such quick reflexes.
Almost as if… You foresaw it.”
“I’m simply fast,” I replied breezily, though my thoughts were in turmoil.
This was the third time.
I had to admit it now uncontrollable foresight was awakening within me.
And, if I willed it, I could even prevent things.
How to use this… that was the question.
“Drink,” Vincent said, offering a glass of aperitif.
I raised mine in answer.
Our glasses touched lightly, and I sipped.
But I could feel his eyes on me, sharp with suspicion.
Of course, it seemed strange.
But I had no way to explain.
I could only hope he would let it go.
Thankfully, Vincent asked no more.
Soon the true courses arrived, and the meal began in earnest.
The steak was seared to perfection.
I sliced into it, juices spilling, flavour rich as it touched my tongue.
At least the food here is safe, I thought.
At the duke’s manor, I never knew what might be hidden in each dish.
But here, at least, the meals were clean and masterfully prepared.
“By the way,” Vincent said casually, “I was surprised how easily Duke Wentworth agreed to your coming here.”
“…Ah.”
Naturally.
The duke hadn’t abandoned the idea of making Vincent emperor.
He still believed he could bend the crown prince into a puppet for his ambitions.
“And the chamber I showed you did you like it?”
“Yes.
It was very fine.”
Though I disliked how close it was to the prince’s own rooms, the accommodations themselves were impeccable.
Before the topic shifted, I nudged the earlier thread he had dropped.
“But… regarding my father… I feel I owe Your Highness an apology.”
“Oh?
For what?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.
I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
I dangled the bait and fell silent.
Vincent leaned closer, coaxing in a voice like warm honey.
“Come now, Amelia.
Speak freely.
It’s only the two of us.”
That voice could unravel the resolve of any woman alive.
Even knowing what I meant to say, my heart trembled before I answered.
“Well… truthfully…”
I hesitated, watching his eyes.
He nodded faintly, urging me on.
“When Your Highness was bedridden, my father… he mentioned another marriage prospect.
Ah—but it wasn’t that he believed you wouldn’t recover!”
I added the excuse with just the right touch of fluster, like seasoning to a dish.
Vincent chuckled softly.
That smile almost looked fond.
For a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was feigned or genuine.
“I see.
No offence taken.
And this… other match?
Who was it?”
“Marquess Moulton’s family.
But the proposal was quickly withdrawn.”
“Why?
Was it because I awoke?”
“That, and… my father hinted there was some problem.
He didn’t elaborate.”
That was a hint enough.
Vincent was the male lead.
His future was written.
Even if my meddling had shifted the order of things, he would find his way back to the path.
He would move against the Moultons, as he was always meant to.
And when that was done, he would meet the heroine.
They would fall in love.
And then our engagement could quietly dissolve.
Even in his thirst for vengeance, Vincent was not a man to slaughter an innocent fiancée out of hand.
…Probably.
“Understood.
Thank you for telling me.”
“It was nothing.
But listen this music is exquisite, isn’t it?”
“Ah.
A cello piece I’m fond of.”
The conversation flowed easily after that.
In truth, Vincent mad
e a fine companion.
Handsome.
Intelligent.
A man marked by a dark past is irresistibly compelling in a story.
The way he smiled with warmth and devotion at the heroine… even I had envied it, reading of their love.
Now, sitting across from him, I smiled back.
How unfortunate, that this was the role fate had given me.
