The Northern Gate: Two Worlds

III. - The Duke

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Amy almost screamed. She heard Mathilde clearly. She just wanted to make sure she heard it right. Her hands started to feel clammy, and her forehead was beaded with sweat. Her heart skipped at least two or three beats.

Mathilde seemed horrified."Oh, Forgive me, Your Grace. Is something wrong?" she asked tentatively.

"I'm sorry, I was just a little surprised," Amy replied. She was, in fact, more than a little surprised. Her head felt light, and the seemed to sway under her feet. She took a deep breath. "Are you sure that the Duke arrives tonight?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Duke Henri had sent a raven yesterday announcing his arrival this nightfall. Luxdale Castle is just a day's ride on a rested horse," the head courtier replied. "I have arranged the preparations for supper to greet him. Haven't I told you about that, Your Grace?"

"No, you haven't," Amy said flatly.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. Ah, the passing of age seems to be cruel to me."

"It's alright, Mathilde," Amy replied upon seeing Mathilde's face fall. "I'm sorry I overreacted. Just tell me what I need to do." She turned away from the glass case that enclosed Amadeus and started to walk out of the weapons room.

Mathilde started to follow. "Of course, Your Grace, anything you need. Anything you need."

As they both stepped out of the room, Amy watched with detached interest as the stone door inched back to the wall. A low, grinding noise filled the air. After a definitive clicking sound, the door's outline vanished and merged with the wall, as if it was never there. The lion head sculpture slid back to its place.

"So, what do I do now?" Amy inquired, heart raging between her lungs. The thought of seeing her 'husband' so soon has shaken her to her core. Earlier, it sounded amusing, but now that it's about to happen, it was dreadful.

"I have told all the courtiers about the Duke's return. Everyone in the Castle is busy with cooking and cleaning. You don't need to worry about anything, Your Grace."

"Does that mean you'll be busy, too?"

"Not if you'll require my assistance, Your Grace. The courtiers know what the routine is. They barely need me. Oh, they barely do, " Mathilde attempted a half-smile but failed.

"Alright," Amy sighed. "I guess I'll just stay here in my room. Can you tell me where the shower is?"

"The what, Your Grace?"

"Oh, I mean the bath. Where can I take a bath? My skin feels thick already."

The head courtier told Amy the directions to the Duchess's bathing room. It was just across her chambers, situated next to the Duke's quarters and bathroom. Apparently, the entire top floor of Castle Gustav only housed her, and her husband's sleeping chambers and amenities. No one was allowed here except the Duke, her, the Knight, and their courtiers. Mathilde asked if Amy was alright with being alone, and she just nodded in response. The head courtier curtsied and left Amy to herself. As the door shut behind Mathilde, Amy propped herself on her bed.

"What on earth was I thinking?" she muttered to herself, head buried under a pile of extremely soft and thick white pillows. Pretending to be someone you were not felt laborious. It felt to her that the energy from the tonic seemed to have waned off. She was suddenly exhausted. Despite everything, the bed where she was reclined felt like clouds. It was soft, but it was firm. Amy thought it could fit at least five people. She remembered her room back in New York. It was nothing like the Duchess's grand chambers, but it was home. She felt a sudden longing so painful it jolted her upright in bed.

"No. I can not just sit here on my ass. I need to do something. I need to move," she declared to herself. She went back to her closet and picked something that looked like a bathrobe, some towels, and a change of clothes. She rummaged around for loose shorts - the thought of using someone else's undies was horrifying - and was surprised to find at least twelve pairs of them, seemingly untouched. She picked a purple tunic with a wide silver belt from among her wardrobe and went out of her room.

As Mathilde had said, the Duchess's bath was just across her room. Beside it was the Duke's chambers and his bath. It looked just like her room from the outside. She put her ear to the door and heard low rumbling noises as if there was someone inside. For a moment, she thought that maybe the Duke had arrived and was in his quarters. She wiggled the doorknob, but it was locked. She leaned in again, but the rumbling noise was gone. It was still late afternoon, and the Duke said he'd arrive at nightfall. She just thought that her nervous anticipation made her imagine hearing things. Shrugging, Amy dismissed the thought. She stepped back from the Duke's chambers, went toward her bathing room, and opened its doors.

The floor of the bath was wide, and the ceiling was high. The walls were made of the same enchanted stone that glowed a subtle blue. There was a massive tub made out of black marble with speckles of gold. It was elevated from the floor at least three steps high. The stairs leading to the tub looked like they were made from silver, and across it was a spout from which water flowed endlessly. Along the walls were wooden shelves full of tall, lighted candles and bottles of oils, essences, and dried flowers. On one of the room's corners was a full-body mirror like the one she had in her wardrobe. Beside it was a small table littered with hairbrushes and ties. She hung her robe and change of clothes onto a peg on the wall, stripped her clothes, and climbed into the bath. She was surprised that the water was not cold or hot, just the right warmth to relax her tired muscles. She lay on her back and closed her eyes, feeling the water soothe her skin.

Amy thought of the Duke. She was told that he was handsome and lean and muscular, but she could not help wondering what he really looked like. Was his hair gold and flowed like a river? Were his eyes blue like a dark ocean? Was there a scar on his jaw that made him look like a sculpture of a Greek god? Was he anything like Gide–

"Oh, for the love of cheese, Amy!" she told herself as she opened her eyes and bolted upright on the tub. Her husband was about to come home in a few hours, and there she was, fantasizing about what he looked like. She got out of the tub and dried herself with her towel and robe. Moments later, she was dressed in the purple tunic, hair tied up in a bun, and was in front of the door to her chambers. She reached for the golden doorknob and hesitated. Remembering that her things -- bag, phone, shoes, briefcase--were left at the infirmary, she turned around and went down the hallway leading to the stairs.

If she were bad at memorizing places, she'd be lost in the Castle. It was good that she had what her mom had called 'photographic memory.' Navigating the top floor of the castle came easy to her. She reached the stairs and made her way down. There were guards on each end of the stairs that she didn't notice earlier. They were wearing head-to-toe armors made of a thin metal that gleamed under the wall's light. They didn't move even as she passed. She wondered if the guards were asleep, but she didn't bother to look and find out. She continued walking and saw the door to the infirmary. She stepped towards it and reached for the knob.

"Your Grace," a familiar voice said from behind her.

"Oh, it's you," Amy jumped a bit. "I'm sorry I almost lunged at you this morning. I didn't catch your name earlier. What's your name again?" she said after an awkward silence.

The young courtier with fair skin and an innocent face stared at her in confusion. She was still wearing the same uniform as the first time Amy saw her. This close, Amy could see the courtier's face more clearly. Her pale skin was almost poreless that it was as smooth as glass. Amy stared at her for a second and admired her odd beauty. If she weren't dressed as a court servant, Amy would have considered her royalty. A black stone pendant hung from a golden necklace on her neck. It seemed to wink at Amy when light struck it.

"Oh, I see. Mathilde hasn't told you?" Amy said, realizing that the other courtiers did not know that the 'Duchess' had amnesia. "After I was hit by the Avernatti last night, I seem to have forgotten most of my memories. So, you know, I need to learn your names and all. Again."

"Forgive me, Your Grace," her face was visibly red across the cheeks. "I did not know. I am Margritta. I am a kitchen servant. I am fairly new and still working my way around. You can call me Gretta, Your Grace," she curtsied.

"Gretta. Okay, I'll remember that." Amy smiled at her. "Have you seen Mathilde or Ser Gideon around?"

"No, Your Grace," she replied, averting her eyes. Amy could see that Gretta was uneasy around her and thought maybe she was still embarrassed by being nearly jumped at by her in the infirmary. "Forgive me, my Duchess. I am still needed in the kitchen. May I excuse myself?"

"Of course, you can," she replied and dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "I'm sorry I bothered you. You can go now. Oh, by the way, Gretta, what were you doing up here again?"

"I was just...cleaning, Your Grace."

"I see. You can go now, then."

Gretta did the smallest of curtsies and scurried away.

It seemed odd how a small, young woman moved so fast. Amy shrugged at the thought and opened the door to the infirmary. Stepping inside, she saw the infirmary looked just as they left it. Amy went to the bedside table, grabbed her things, and propped them onto the bed. She fished for her compact laser cutter device and let out an audible breath of relief. After inspection, she placed it back inside her briefcase and secured its locks. She took her phone and was a little dismayed that it had run out of battery. She grabbed her bag, her suit, and her broken shoes. Haphazardly, she stacked all her things between her crossed arms and chest and made her way out. She tried to close the door using the tip of her boot and turned around as it did. In her hurry, she didn't notice that someone was standing in front of her.

"Dammit!" Amy exclaimed as she and her things fell to the floor. "Can you watch where you--" She turned to look up.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," said Ser Gideon, standing tall and mighty. He was still wearing his full armor, aside from the helmet he was carrying in his left arm. The Knight dropped to his knees and placed his headgear on the floor. In a swift movement, he picked up all of Amy's things. "I heard a noise coming from here. I turned to check if someone had broken in. I did not know it was you."

Hair like a golden river. Eyes blue like a dark ocean. Amy stared at the Knight and felt her heart stop for a second. "Hi! I-I'm Amy," she stuttered. "I-I mean Amithiel. I am Duchess Amithiel of Castle Gustav," she said almost like a robot. Amy could feel the embarrassment flood her face. What was she saying?

"I know, Your Grace. Here," Gideon said, arm extended. "Let me help you up." His forehead glimmered with sweat as if he'd been running, but his face was calm, and his breathing was even. He regarded her intently with his blue eyes. "Are you hurt, my Duchess?"

My Duchess, the words rang through Amy's head. Her heart fluttered. "No, no, I-I'm fine. See," she said and stood up so suddenly that she felt a little dizzy and nearly stumbled.

"Careful, Your Grace," said the Knight as he rose and held her hands in his. "Here are your things," he smiled.

Amy wanted to melt. She was sure she looked like a tomato as she could feel the blood throb through her cheeks. "Thank you, Ser Gideon," she said as she collected her things and her composure. "I will just--"

A loud, blaring noise filled the air. It rang and reverberated through the halls like a wailing ghost.

"What was that?" she asked the knight.

"The Duke," announced Gideon. "His Grace has arrived. That's the castle horn to signal the arrival of any of the Gustav family. It was blown last night too when you were found in the forest and brought back here."

But Amy wasn't listening. She let go of the knight's gloved hands and turned away from him."I-I'm sorry, Ser Gideon, I need to bring these back to my chambers."

"Won't you come with me to meet the Duke, Your Grace?" asked the knight. "Would you know your way around? Mathilde told me you were having trouble with your memories."

"I'll manage," she blurted out. Heart slamming wild in her chest, she bolted through the hallway and up the stairs to her chambers. Atop the last step, she looked back at the hall, but the knight was already gone.

~o~