Obey Me Now

Amelia’s cold laughter echoed through the quiet balcony, slicing through the tension that hung in the air. Edzoff’s hand, poised mid-reach, froze as her decisive action stopped him in his tracks.

“Your Grace,” Amelia began, her voice icy and resolute, “it seems your arrogance has blinded you to a simple truth.”

Edzoff’s expression darkened, the faint smirk tugging at his lips threatening to twist into a snarl.

“And what truth might that be, Amelia?” he asked, his tone dripping with condescension.

Her grip on the silver musket tightened as she raised it, the barrel now squarely aimed at his chest. The weight of her resolve was palpable, her vivid green eyes blazing with a fire that had long been absent.

“That I am not the weak, pathetic fool you always assumed I was,” she declared firmly. “You thought I would cling to you, beg for scraps of your affection while you and Messarina trampled over me. But those days are over.”

The venom in her words made Edzoff flinch ever so slightly before masking his reaction with a condescending chuckle.

“Still playing the rebel, I see,” he mocked. “Do you truly think you can stand against me, Amelia? Against the power of the South, the Emperor’s favor, and the loyalty of the nobles?”

Amelia stepped closer, the musket’s barrel now mere inches from his heart.

“I don’t just think I can,” she said, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “I know I can.”

Edzoff’s smirk faltered as her unwavering confidence pressed into the space between them, unyielding and resolute.

“You talk big for someone who’s never even fired a musket,” he sneered, though a hint of unease laced his voice. “Let me guess—you’re hoping the Monster Duke will do all the dirty work for you?”

Amelia tilted her head slightly, her smile sharpening into a blade.

“Perhaps,” she replied. “Or perhaps I’ve already learned what I need to. It’s amazing what desperation can teach you.”

Edzoff narrowed his eyes, his golden gaze searching hers for any flicker of hesitation. What he found instead was terrifying certainty.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed.

“Wouldn’t I?” Amelia countered. “You claim to know me, Your Grace. But you’ve never truly tried to understand me. To you, I was always a pawn—a fragile little thing to be used and discarded at your convenience.”

The musket’s barrel pressed harder against his chest, her grip steady and unshaken.

“Not anymore,” she continued. “You want my obedience? You want me to kneel and beg for your mercy? Those days are over.”

Edzoff’s jaw tightened as the weight of her words settled over him. For the first time, he saw not the frail girl he had once controlled, but a woman who had risen from the ashes of her own despair—stronger, sharper, and more dangerous than ever.

“And what happens now, Amelia?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. “Do you pull the trigger and end this little charade of yours?”

Her smile widened, though her eyes remained cold.

“No,” she said, lowering the musket with deliberate slowness, heightening the tension in the air. “Killing you would be too merciful. I want you to live, Edzoff. To watch as everything you’ve worked for crumbles around you. To see the Monster Duke take the throne you so desperately covet.”

His face twisted in rage, his composure finally slipping.

“You’re insane,” he spat.

“Perhaps,” she admitted with a casual shrug. “But I’m also determined. And unlike you, I don’t need lies and manipulation to win. I’ll take everything from you, Edzoff—not because I hate you, though I do, but because I can.”

With that, she stepped back, her movements graceful yet unyielding. She left him standing there, his face contorted with a storm of emotions he couldn’t control.

As she walked away, Amelia’s voice rang out, clear and defiant:

“Consider this your warning, Your Grace. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me again.”

Reentering the ballroom, all eyes turned to her, silencing the whispers and gossip that had filled the room. At her side, the Monster Duke—her Monster Duke—stepped forward, his piercing blue eyes sweeping the crowd like a predator surveying its territory.

The battle had begun, and Amelia Cesaret was no longer afraid to fight.

The silver musket placed on the golden table shimmered under the lights, its presence as striking and out of place as Amelia herself. Her bold declaration sent shockwaves through the ballroom. Messarina, along with the other two candidates for the head of the house, could only stare, momentarily rendered speechless.

Messarina, however, quickly regained her composure, suppressing her boiling rage.

“She said she’d make me cry. Has she completely lost her mind? Declaring herself a candidate for head of the house? She can’t even wield a musket! That weak heart of hers? And now she plans to marry the Monster Duke? She’s truly gone mad.”

Then, Messarina allowed a sly smile to curve her lips. This wasn’t worth her ire—no, it was laughable. The position of head of the house wasn’t decided by bloodline alone.

“If anything, this works in my favor. Let her flail and make a fool of herself. Amelia, you’ll see soon enough who’ll end up crying.”

Across the room, Edzoff stormed toward Amelia, fury evident in every step. Ignoring the growing whispers and stares from the assembled nobles, he seized her wrist with an iron grip, dragging her toward the exit.

“Come with me.”

The nobles watched the scene unfold with fascination. Amelia noted his uncharacteristic carelessness.

“So much for maintaining appearances. You’d think someone so obsessed with reputation would tread more carefully in public.”

As Edzoff pulled her toward the exit, their path was suddenly blocked by Iclite. Standing tall and unyielding, he radiated calm authority.

Edzoff glared at him, his voice laced with venom. “Get out of my way.”

Iclite ignored the command, his attention fixed on Amelia. “Are you all right?” His voice was steady, yet concern was clear in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Amelia replied, though her tone wavered slightly. “You don’t have to intervene.”

Her words caused a flicker of something in Iclite’s gaze—disappointment, perhaps—but he nodded reluctantly and stepped aside. His eyes lingered on her as Edzoff dragged her away.

“You don’t have to. It’s not that I have to—it’s that I don’t want to let you go.”

Inside the ballroom, the gossip reached a fever pitch.

“Does the Countess know both Dukes personally?”

“This changes everything. If she’s a legitimate contender, Messarina’s position isn’t as secure as we thought.”

Messarina clenched her fists as the whispers reached her ears. “Fools. She’s a dying woman. Let her play this little game; she won’t last long enough to see it through.”

Still, Messarina couldn’t let her irritation go entirely. After a moment’s thought, a calculating smile spread across her lips.

“She said she’d make me cry, so I suppose I’ll have to oblige. I’ll shed a few tears for her, out of pity, of course.”

On the balcony, Edzoff spun on Amelia, shoving her back against the railing with a force that rattled through her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, his golden eyes alight with fury.

Amelia’s lips curled into a faint smirk, her tone icy. “Is this really wise, Your Grace? So many eyes are watching. I’d think you’d care more about appearances.”

His expression darkened, his hands slamming against the railing on either side of her, caging her in. “Appearances be damned. You’ve gone too far. My woman doesn’t get to defy me like this.”

“Your woman?” she scoffed, her green eyes blazing. “I rejected your proposal, remember? Or does the great Edzoff struggle with hearing the word no?”

“Don’t test me, Amelia. Do you think that monster you’ve aligned yourself with can protect you? He’s nothing compared to me. He’s—”

“My future husband,” Amelia interrupted sharply. “And I won’t allow you to insult him.”

Edzoff’s fury twisted into a cold, mocking laugh. “Your future husband? That abomination? The so-called Monster Duke?” He sneered, leaning closer. “Do you actually think you can defy me? You, with your weak heart and delusions of grandeur?”

“I can, and I will,” she said, her voice calm but unyielding. “Starting with taking everything you care about. Everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Her emerald gaze burned with a fierceness Edzoff had never seen before. It unsettled him, though he refused to show it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said with a cruel smirk. “You’ll regret it.”

Amelia gripped the musket in her hands tightly, her knuckles white. “The only regret I’ll have,” she said evenly, “is not pulling the trigger on you sooner.”

Edzoff froze, momentarily taken aback, before recovering with a scoff. “Go ahead,” he taunted, leaning his head against the barrel. “Do it. Pull the trigger. End me, right here, right now. Let’s see if you have the guts.”

Amelia’s expression didn’t falter, but she didn’t move to fire either. She knew his game and wasn’t about to play it.

“I won’t waste a bullet on you,” she said quietly. “But rest assured, when I do pull this trigger, it won’t just be for revenge. It’ll be for victory.”

Her words struck a chord deep within him, though he masked it with another smirk. He leaned back, his laughter cold and biting.

“You’ll regret crossing me, Amelia,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re trying to challenge me? To stand against me? You’ll fall long before I do.”

But Amelia’s steady gaze didn’t waver. “We’ll see,” she said simply.

And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving him standing alone on the balcony, seething in frustration.