Chapter 15 …
So⌠not yet, then.
I shook the thought, only for Vincent to speak gently.
âAmelia, you sent me lilies.â
I smiled at him as though it were nothing.
âAh, lilies are beautiful flowers⌠but unfortunately, Iâm allergic to them.â
âReally?
I had no idea.â
Vincent touched his chin with mock innocence, then added smoothly,
âIâll see to it that the maid who brought them is punished.
Tell me what will appease your anger?â
âThe 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.â
At my pointed reply, Vincentâs smile thinned.
He didnât answer at once.
He must have realised Iâd 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.
âThen, Amelia what do you intend to do?â
âLike this.â
He watched me intently, and I gave him a bright smile.
Then I reached across and swapped our plates.
âA fiancĂŠ who doesnât even know his betrothedâs allergies ought to take responsibility, donât you think?â
If I had stayed among the lilies, I would have spent the whole day sneezing and weepingâa pitiful sight indeed.
Vincent gave a bitter smile at the raisin-covered dish before him.
He seemed to understand the point, but he didnât lash out.
Lifting his fork, he spoke slowly.
âYou seem⌠different from the woman I once knew.â
I froze, just for a heartbeat, before forcing myself to lift my own fork in turn.
âAnd so do you, Your Highness.
Youâve changed as well.
Though⌠havenât we had this conversation before?â
His fork hesitated, then moved again.
âPerhaps we have.â
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 didnât 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 Iâd seen earlier.
Step by step, he drew nearer.
Vincent gave me a puzzled look, but I couldnât tear my eyes away, timing my move.
When the servant passed behind Vincentâs chair, I sprang to my feet.
Now!
âAhh!â
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.
âAhem⌠you ought to be more careful,â I said awkwardly.
The servant blinked as though waking from a daze, then bowed his head repeatedly.
âI-Iâm so sorry!
Forgive me!â
Another attendant rushed over, bowing deeply.
âOur apologies, Your Highness!
Heâs only just begun service hereâplease pardon his mistake.â
âAccidents happen,â I said lightly, turning to Vincent with an expectant look.
âIsnât that right, Your Highness?â
Of course, if the drink had spilt on him, no one would call it a mere accident.
Remember this, nameless servantâI just saved your life.
âCharles.
Apologise properly,â Vincent ordered.
Ah, so his name was Charles.
âI beg your pardon, Your Highness.
Iâll be more careful in the future.â
Vincent gave no reply, only pointed at me.
âAnd to the lady.â
Charles flushed, bowing again.
âForgive me, my lady.
And⌠thank you.â
âYouâre welcome, Charles,â I said kindly.
At my smile, his face reddened further.
I sat down again.
Vincent regarded me with a curious expression.
âAre you unharmed, Amelia?
I never imagined you had such quick reflexes.
Almost as if⌠you foresaw it.â
âIâm simply fast,â I replied breezily, though my thoughts were in turmoil.
This was the third time.
I had to admit it nowâuncontrollable foresight was awakening within me.
And, if I willed it, I could even prevent things.
How to use this⌠that was the question.
âDrink,â 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 dukeâs manor, I never knew what might be hidden in each dish.
But here, at least, the meals were clean and masterfully prepared.
âBy the way,â Vincent said casually, âI was surprised how easily Duke Wentworth agreed to your coming here.â
ââŚAh.â
Naturally.
The duke hadnât abandoned the idea of making Vincent emperor.
He still believed he could bend the crown prince into a puppet for his ambitions.
âAnd the chamber I showed youâdid you like it?â
âYes.
It was very fine.â
Though I disliked how close it was to the princeâs own rooms, the accommodations themselves were impeccable.
Before the topic shifted, I nudged the earlier thread he had dropped.
âBut⌠regarding my father⌠I feel I owe Your Highness an apology.â
âOh?
For what?â
âOh, itâs nothing.
I shouldnât have mentioned it.â
I dangled the bait and fell silent.
Vincent leaned closer, coaxing in a voice like warm honey.
âCome now, Amelia.
Speak freely.
Itâs only the two of us.â
That voice could unravel the resolve of any woman alive.
Even knowing what I meant to say, my heart trembled before I answered.
âWell⌠truthfullyâŚâ
I hesitated, watching his eyes.
He nodded faintly, urging me on.
âWhen Your Highness was bedridden, my father⌠he mentioned another marriage prospect.
Ahâbut it wasnât that he believed you wouldnât recover!â
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 couldnât tell if it was feigned or genuine.
âI see.
No offence taken.
And this⌠other match?
Who was it?â
âMarquess Moultonâs family.
But the proposal was quickly withdrawn.â
âWhy?
Was it because I awoke?â
âThat, and⌠my father hinted there was some problem.
He didnât elaborate.â
That was 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 fiancĂŠe out of hand.
âŚProbably.
âUnderstood.
Thank you for telling me.â
âIt was nothing.
But listenâthis music is exquisite, isnât it?â
âAh.
A cello piece Iâm fond of.â
The conversation flowed easily after that.
In truth, Vincent made 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.






