His Princess Mate

15 - Amelia

დRoseდ

As it would turn out, my mother’s friend was absolutely delightful. She was frail, small, and lean with her whitish light brown hair that was twisted into a bun at the nape of her slender neck. Her dull hazel eyes seemed to take everything in around her with a skittish way that even had me looking around nervously. She wore a dark brown dress with a white apron and her home was small but immaculately clean and organized. I stood by nervously as I watched my mother and Amelia embrace each other that was far more than friendly. It was clear that they considered each other as family, both with tears in their eyes after not seeing each other in so long. Adam and Viviane had taken a walk along the path that led to who knows where and although I did not feel as though my life could be in danger, I suddenly wished Viviane was at my side. If for no other reason than simply moral support and I did not want to feel this way, this uncomfortable and awkward feeling of what now? What would be expected of me? Was I supposed to embrace her as well?

“It’s far too long, sister,” I heard Amelia whisper as she reached out and took my mother's hand in hers.

“Indeed, far too long,” my mother responded and it was then that she turned to me. “Amelia, my daughter, is she not beautiful?” suddenly Amelia seemed to realize that I was also present and the smile that she gave me was both intimidating and sweet.

“Ah! Goodness, Rose!” she let go of my mother's hand and came toward me. “You have grown into such a beautiful woman,” she added as her eyes took in my appearance.

“Thank you,” I said softly, unsure of what else to say as she continued to look me up and down.

“You probably do not remember me, as it was when you were but a small child that we saw each other last,” Amelia said as she reached out and took both my hands in hers. I shuddered at her touch but forced myself to smile as I nodded politely. I could feel the wind pick up slightly and it was warm and comforting in a way that I could not explain and yet, it felt somewhat different than a simple breeze. “Do come in,” Amelia suddenly said as she let go of my hands and turned toward her home. Since we had stopped in the doorway, I followed behind my mother and looked around. As I had earlier noticed, her home was spotless and organized. The entrance led to a small sitting room with two loveseat sofa’s, a coffee table that stood proudly on top of a rich brown carpet. A small table with four chairs stood to one side and a large archway led way to the kitchen. The smoke I had seen early was indeed coming from the kitchen and I could not help but breathe in the scent of something baking in the small coal oven. I spotted two doors that were closed and I had to assume one was her bedroom and the other her bathroom. My mother went over to the sofa and sat down. I tried not to run as I quickly made my way to the open spot next to her. My mother and I certainly were not close but I would rather sit next to her than the strange woman. Amelia went into the kitchen and I did my best not to stare as she prepared a pot of tea and a tray with whatever it was that she took out from the oven.

“Do you feel that Rose?” my mother questioned softly and I glanced over at her before shaking my head. “The warmth? The comfort?” she then added before she closed her eyes. I had to admit that I did feel something although I was not sure what it was exactly. It felt simpler to a warm fluffy blanket being wrapped over my shoulders and I sighed softly as I felt myself relax. Amelia came back to the sitting room and placed the tray down on the coffee table. A beautiful silver teapot with three porcelain teacups sat alongside a large bowl of freshly baked scones. Two smaller bowls consisted of what I had to assume was some kind of jam and cream. It smelt heavenly and Amelia left us to head back into her kitchen. “Amelia loves to bake,” my mother announced and I smiled as I eyed the delicious-looking scones. “She was the one who taught me how to make those jam biscuits,” I raise my brow at that piece of information just as Amelia came back into the sitting room with three side plates and utensils.

“You always loved those,” she said to my mother, who nodded. “Come, help yourselves,” she said before she sat down. My mother hurriedly reached out for one of the side plates and took two of the scones before grabbing a knife and slicing them open to smother them with jam and cream. I noticed Amelia was doing the same and I followed suit and carefully picked up one of the scones. I ate in silence as I listen to my mother and Amelia catch up on things that I did not understand nor know about. I wondered briefly where Adam and Viviane were, however, I knew that they could take care of themselves. I was growing bored as I reached out for yet another scone, having demolished four already. At first, I had been interested in hearing about my mother, however, as the time ticked on by, I realized that they seemed to be talking in some kind of code. I suppose since they had been or were rather close, they had a language of their own that I did not understand. It was getting rather late and although the scones did a wonderful job of tasting utterly delightful and filling that small void in my stomach, it was not enough to fill the hunger that was slowly building up. I sighed as I finished off the scone and slowly stood up.

“Everything alright, Rose?” my mother asked and I quickly nodded.

“Hmm, it is getting rather late and...” my voice trailed off as I glanced over at Amelia. “It has been wonderful to meet you but I was under the impression my mother was taking me out for lunch,” Amelia’s eyes widened before she giggled as she looked over at my mother.

“You did not mention lunch, Lucinda!” she remarked as she stood up. “If I had known, I would have prepared a meal,” she then added.

“Oh no! Please, it was entirely my own fault to assume going out for lunch meant an actual meal,” I felt embarrassed as I stepped away from the sofa. “Do not feel put out, Amelia, the scones were absolutely scrumptious,” I took another step away as I glanced behind me and spotted Viviane and Adam coming up the pathway. “However, I do think we should be taking our leave,”

“Are you certain? I can surely whip up a meal in no time,” Amelia said as she looked down at my mother, who had yet to stand up.

“That would be delightful,” my mother remarked as she remained seated. “Come, Rose, Amelia will prepare a meal for us to enjoy,”

“No, I mean...thank you but honestly, it is getting rather late and I would much prefer to make the journey home,” I said as I caught Adam’s eye. He nodded before he left the doorway, while Viviane was looking around the home.

“Oh! What a pity,” my mother said as she turned to look at Amelia. “Would you mind if I stayed the night? It has been far too long...”

“Of course, my home is your home,” Amelia said as she looked back over at me. “Would your horseman be able to fetch Lucinda in the morning? Perhaps you could join him and I will prepare a wonderful breakfast? We have not yet had a moment to talk,” I slowly nodded as I accepted the invitation, although, the whole thing was starting to make me feel uneasy.

“That would be lovely,” I said before I finally managed to get to the door. Viviane threw my mother and Amelia a quick curtsey before she took my arm and almost dragged me out of the cottage. I hurried along the pathway to where Adam stood with the carriage door already open.

“Princess,” he greeted as he held out his hand. I nodded and quickly took his hand to pull myself up into the carriage. Viviane soon join me as well as Adam and the carriage lurched forward and I breathed out a sigh of relief. The warmth and comfort had disappeared and I shivered in the cool of the evening. What a strange day this had been, I thought as we traveled home. Amelia seemed ordinary and yet there was something about her that I could not quite put my finger on. Something dangerous, and even though that thought made me freeze, I realized that it was the warmth, the comfort, and the atmosphere that led me to believe Amelia was not exactly what she seemed. I had no idea what that meant and I suddenly regretted accepting the invitation to breakfast. The trip home was silent, except for the howling wind and the sound of the horse's hoofs on the gravel road as they trouted in a rhythm that had me closing my eyes and resting my head against the hard wooden backrest of the seat. When we finally returned to the castle, I was rather surprised to find, not only my father sitting in the sunroom but he had a guest. Two, in fact, as I gazed at Henry and his sidekick, Philip. My father immediately rushed over to my side when he saw me enter.

“You’ve returned!” he exclaimed and I frowned at his remark.

“Had you thought I would not?” I questioned as I locked eyes with Henry, who smiled slowly.

“Oh! It is rather late, Rose,” he said as he waved his hand around in a manner that led me to realize he was slightly intoxicated. The subtle smell of beer reached my nose and I turned to my father.

“You are drunk!” I scolded and he chuckled before he turned away and headed back to his armchair.

“Indeed, I may have had one too many,” my father admitted with a shrug before he threw himself down on the chair. “Regardless!” he snapped before he lit up one of his cigars.

“Ugh!” I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Have you had dinner yet?” I then asked, choosing to ignore both Henry and Philip.

“Hmm,” my father hummed out and I sighed as I faced Henry.

“Have you had dinner yet?” I questioned.

“No, Rose,” he replied softly and I blushed. I had no right, nor no reason in being cold toward him or Philip. “Although someone did stop by earlier to say that dinner would be served soon,” I smiled in relief and went over to the windows, throwing them open so that the smoke and smell of that blasted cigar could head outside.

“Very well then, I will freshen up before dinner,” I said to no one in particular before I left the room. However, halfway down the hall, I heard Henry calling out to me. I paused as I glanced over my shoulder.

“Rose...your father, he mentioned you had gone out with your mother,”

“Ai, I did,”

“He mentioned you would be visiting an old friend of hers,”

“Ai, we did,” I was not sure where he was going with this and my patience was wearing thin. “What of it?”

“What, who is it?” he asked. “The friend, who is it?”

“Oh! A lovely lady named Amelia,” I informed him. “Why? Do you know her?” Henry paled quite noticeably and I frowned as I reached out and touched his shoulder. “Henry, are you alright?”

“Amelia...” he whispered the name and I shuddered. “The witch!”