Chapter 172: Insider And An Assistant [1]
Amelia forced herself to breathe, to bury the storm rising in her chest. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter again.
Her voice came out sharp, colder than the frost gathering at her fingertips. "If you think I’ll dance to your tune, you’re mistaken. I don’t need your schemes to surpass you—or anyone else."
Julies tilted his head, amused. "Then why haven’t you, Lady Frost?"
The words cut deeper than she expected. For a moment, her heart lurched in her chest, stung by the truth hidden in his mockery.
Her jaw clenched. "...Careful."
But he only smirked, drumming his fingers lightly against the table.
Amelia’s eyes lingered on Julies, his grin as insufferable as ever. She wanted to dismiss his words as reckless provocation, but her thoughts betrayed her.
The Mystic Coral Staff...
The name alone stirred something deep within her. A legendary artifact from the East, carved with living coral that shimmered with enchantment, a relic said to pulse with mana as though it had a heartbeat of its own.
She could almost feel it in her hands.
And not just that—there were the Western Golden Palms, rumored to amplify alchemical potency, and the Southern Elven Pearls, priceless treasures imbued with restorative light. Exquisite relics, rare elixirs, each more unattainable than the last... unless someone were bold—or foolish—enough to seize them.
Despite being a noble, Amelia had never hidden her pragmatism. Commerce and profit weren’t stains on her family’s honor—they were the very foundation of it. The Frost bloodline didn’t whisper of restraint. It whispered of ambition. Of acquisition.
And now, Julies’s dangerous little game... it might be the key.
Her fingers curled against her sleeve. She hated that he had planted the thought, hated that her pulse quickened at the prospect. But most of all, she hated how clearly she saw the truth: refusing him was never really an option. Not for what she wanted. Not for the future she had promised Alice.
Her lips curved into a practiced, cool smile. "Let’s move to a different place," she said softly. "I know somewhere we can talk in private."
Julies tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, as if amused by how easily she’d taken the bait. "Now that sounds promising."
As the drunken man beside him slumped further against the table, Julies rose in one fluid motion, every movement unnervingly deliberate. His eyes gleamed like a fox who had cornered a rabbit—though Amelia knew she was no rabbit. She was something colder, sharper.
She had to be.
She brushed past him, her steps confident as she led the way out of the tavern’s stifling shadows. And yet, deep down, her chest tightened.
Not from fear.
But from the dangerous thrill of imagining her hands wrapped around the Mystic Coral Staff, its power singing through her veins.
A prize like that was worth any gamble.
Even one made with a demon.
***
’Oh, jackpot.’
I watched Amelia, feeling satisfied. This was the moment I gained an insider and an assistant.
I followed behind her, my hands tucked lazily into my coat pockets, watching the sway of her posture. Amelia Frost—noble ice queen, full of pride, yet burning with a hunger she tried so hard to bury.
And now, that hunger was mine to feed.
The moment she mentioned moving somewhere private, I knew she had already stepped onto my board. She thought she was leading me? No. She was simply walking into the game I had set.
She didn’t realize it yet, but she had already agreed.
Her spine stiff, her chin high, she walked as though she carried herself above the filth of this tavern. A noble to the bone. But her silence betrayed her—silence not born of dismissal, but of calculation.
Ah, I loved that look in her eyes earlier. That flicker of longing she tried to hide when I whispered about the auction. That quiet, poisonous what if.
What if she succeeded?
What if she touched glory before anyone else could?
That was the spark I had been waiting for.
As we stepped out into the streets were dimly lit with lanterns, the bustle of merchants and drunks fading into the background. She didn’t slow her pace, didn’t glance back at me, though I knew she was painfully aware of every step I took behind her.
"You’re awfully quiet now, Lady Frost," I teased lightly, letting my voice brush against her composure like a feather. "Plotting already? Or trying not to think about it too much?"
She stiffened, then cast me a sharp look over her shoulder. "If you’re expecting me to chatter like some barmaid, you’ll be disappointed."
I chuckled. Her sharpness was refreshing. But I leaned in slightly as we walked, lowering my voice so only she could hear.
"You can’t hide it, Amelia. That little shimmer in your eyes when I said steal. The way your fingers twitched when I mentioned the staff. You want it. Badly."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but the flicker of heat in her gaze was everything I needed.
"I’ll give you this," she said finally, her tone clipped, "you’re persistent. Like a dog that doesn’t know when to stop barking."
"Oh, but dogs are loyal. I’d say I’m more of a fox." I tilted my head, smirking. "And right now, I’m leading you straight to the henhouse."
She didn’t reply, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying the tiniest crack in her icy facade. Was it irritation? Amusement? Maybe both.
Perfect.
I let my grin linger as we slipped into the quieter part of town, the sound of our footsteps echoing softly against cobblestones.
This was no longer about convincing her.
This was about watching how far she’d let herself fall.
----
Author Note:
Thank you for reading the Chapter. I hope you continue to do read more in future.
It’s my second novel so if there’s any kind of mistakes you find in the novel related to grammar please tell me and I’ll edit it as soon as possible.