It wasn’t love, just an infatuation

"Many many happy returns of the day, Princess." A soft voice chipped from behind.

A smile bloomed over Amellia's lips, her pale cheeks turning into the deepest shade of red as her head turned to look at the man standing there, holding a crown made from dried pastel pink. 

"Is that a crown?" Amellia inquired, trying to hold back her excitement. 

The man smiled, and went closer, putting it over her head, "A princess needs its crown, unfortunately, I can only offer a flower crown." 

Amellia pouted at his words, "This is the best crown I had and I told you not to call me princess when we are alone."

"My bad. Lia." 

***

Amellia froze on the stairs as the last memories she wanted to have come up. The knots in her stomach get tighter with each passing second. Just when she thought it was just a memory of the past and she was ready to start anew she was brought back to the crossroads. 

Every bit of her story was true but the assassination didn't come from an outsider it came from her. The one he loved and trusted the most also took his life like nothing. Amellia could feel her left hand trembling as the painful memories took over her. 

He was the memory she never wished to remember, he was also the part she didn't wish to show others. Amellia took sharp breaths, holding back her tears. 

"That was his name for her." Adrian saw how quietly she had turned and continued slowly climbing the stairs.

"The rumour also said that the day he died her heart died with him. Do you think if she wasn't a princess who abided by the rule, she would have chosen him and happily married him?" Adrian slowly brought the topic out, his hand reaching for her shoulder as her back still faced him.

Amellia abruptly turned around, the fake sweet smile still on her lips, "No. She was young and naive. I don't believe it was love, just an infatuation. She cared more about her throne than a man from nowhere. If she loved someone she would have stopped the engagement before it took place. Also, it's a story made by some hopeless romantics. I doubt it even holds true. Women like her don't fall in love." Amellia stated her voice was so calm that all the hesitation just minutes ago was never there.

Adrian pulled back his hands, his face frozen and hardened as he nodded. "I see. It was a great talk at least. I will call the maids to help you." Adrian sifted the topic walking out of there.

Amellia didn't wait for a second, the twisting feeling in her stomach just grew tighter. She dashed up the stairs hoping it was still the same. As she reached the corridor, her hands reached for the wooden door, twisting the knob and entering the bathroom. 

Amellia leaned on the door, gasping for air. Suddenly her heart seemed sucked into a black hole, tearing her inside apart. The hideous feeling was as if every nerve in her body told her it was unbearable pain. She never felt this much pain when she was killed or betrayed. How funny she cries for a guy she can even remember the face of.

All this time she told herself it wasn't love. It was a mistake of tender life yet here she was covering her mouth to suppress her cries. The painful moan that wrecked her heart was unexplainable when that living became so suffocating.

"It wasn't love…it wasn't…" Amellia's attempt to console failed as tears rolled down her cheeks. She killed him and she was the only one crying in pain she caused.

'You hated your sister for betrayal yet you did the same to him. You are such a hypocrite. You deserved the betrayal.' 

A voice taunted her mind and she couldn't even refute it. She killed a man for her selfish desire. She was as heinous as her sister. 

"No…I did it for the crown." Amellia tried to shush the voice in her mind. She was not cruel. She wasn't selfish. If she didn't, her father would.

"Dearest, it's for our people. You rule commoners not marry one that too a bastard. Since you chose to love him I will give you a chance to redeem yourself. Don't leave a mouth that can come back to bite." Her father's words ran back of her mind. 

Amelliaia curled up her fingers into a fist until her knuckles turned white. A sense of belonging in the pain. She sat on the ground as the question pondered. How easily does she forget those memories? How easily she was ready to have a man with status as her lover. She can't love him. A woman who loved would never. 

***

"Master?" An old voice called Adrian stood by the room. His eyes glanced out of the window, his mind in his world.

Adrian rubbed his face and peeked at the old housekeeper standing there. "Greta." He quipped. "Can you take care of my guest?" she went to the washroom on the first floor. Also, give her the room." Greta's eyes rounded at his instruction. Astonishment on her face was clear, a face utterly speechless.

Adrian saw how quietly stood there, staring at him like a deer staring at the car's front light. Adrian sighed. 'It wasn't love, just an infatuation.' Words hummed in his brain like a broken record. 

"Remember the story you used to tell me. In that story, what would have happened if she never loved him?" Adrian asked, his face vulnerable.

Greta smiled, "Maybe she didn't love the past. He can always win her as the current version. Mio, there is no way a woman would not fall for a man who loves them like a gardener loves his plants, you just need to put the right fertilizer for love to bloom."