The Criswell's Curse

During my 1st life, the Duke was extremely healthy, having no known disease besides severe nightmares and extreme exhaustion. It was only a couple of months after the wedding that some strange symptoms appeared on his body. Edgar’s appetite became scarce, and most of the food he ate was quickly expelled from his being. Just a handful of days later, he caught a rough fever and began complaining to the doctors about a strong stomachache. The next morning, he was found dead in his chambers.

The house was then thrown into complete chaos. Not a single soul in the mansion expected the Duke’s death, but what happened next was truly a hidden sin of a greedy man. As Terrel was inheriting the Dukedom, his two younger siblings died. No one gave me any details, but after that, the mansion was never the same. A sinister, gloomy glow surrounded it, as if it had become a cursed being itself.

“Isn’t it odd...?” I mumbled as my eyebrows drew closer together. “This was no accident... was he poisoned?”

No matter how one saw it, there was only one person who would benefit from their deaths: Terrel Wharton, that abomination. Frustrated, my hand closed the book harshly, crumbling some of the pages in between. I had no proof, no leads, no murder – yet.

Even then, fighting against my hatred, a strange voice of reason still tried to speak. Terrel was completely inhuman and despicable, yet he was already first in line. Why would he do something as stupid as murdering his father and raise suspicion on his side? Something didn’t add up.

Digging through my own thoughts, a set of faint knocks on the tall wooden door echoed. Quickly, I placed the book inside the bag and walked towards the entrance, opening it to this strange, unknown guest.

A young boy, about my age, was standing before me alongside a kid, half of his size. By the similarities in their expressions, they were clearly brothers, and they deeply resembled their father, the Duke. Their chocolate brown hairs and their dark eyes made a slight pain pierce my heart, as my mind recalled Terrel’s wrongdoings.

“Lady Ophelia, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you. I’m Mace and this is Ralph. We’re Terrel’s younger brothers.” The older boy said with a welcoming smile stamped on his lips. The youngest hid his presence away behind his sibling, glancing at me timidly from time to time.

“Hello.” He said after being touched on the shoulder by his caring brother.

This was the first time I was meeting them. Terrel begun stealing power from his father ever since he was young and, by the time he brought me here, all the servants were already working under his orders. The only time my gaze caught Mace’s figure was in the coming-of-age ceremony of the princess.

The more they smiled at me, the stronger the guilt became - no matter how you saw it, they were mere children. Ralph was so young, no older than seven, and yet, that beast murdered them just to prevent power struggles.

Hiding my clenched fist behind the dress and simmering the burning rage within, I bowed. “Thank you for taking your time to visit me, Lord Mace, Lord Ralph.”

“You don’t need to be so polite, My Lady. Just treat us as you would treat a friend.” He kindly declared before pressing his lips together, frustrated by the insensitivity of his own words. He had seen the blank canvas on my face, the expression of a life driven by loneliness.

“Forgive me, My Lord. I’m afraid I don’t know how to treat someone as such.”

My words made the environment grew heavier than it already was. Mace’s expression twisted as his emotions twirled around, conflicting with each other, not knowing whether to feel sadness or shower me with pity.

Everyone around me had always been people who seemed to lack any sense of humanity, craving more their own ideals and desires than basic morale. Never once was I the priority to a man, to a friend, to my family. There was, however, a vague, fuzzy memory from my 3rd life.

Somehow, my mind could glimpse a man and very strange feelings whenever he came to mind – a mixture of hatred and rage, as if he’d hurt me more than thoughts were able to express. By the second, a fueled anger consumed my soul, knowing that his image would never become clear, keeping itself hidden behind a shroud of mystery. His face was like a canvas, inexistent of any shape, void of any color and, the more my mind tried to recall, the less lucid it became.

“I know that for now these are only words but, I truly hope that will change. Would you be my friend, Ophelia?” Mace’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, as if he was about to befriend the greatest person in the whole wide world.

Luckily, not all the apples are rotten. The similarities between the Wharton’s children and their father were truly uncanny – a trait Terrel didn’t seem to have inherited.

“I shall do my best, My Lord.” After hearing my polite statement, Mace touched his curly chocolate hair, a rather troubled expression in his pale face.

Confused if my answer was uncalled for, my head tilted slightly to the side, mind pondering deeply of the words that had been spoken. Wasn’t I supposed to say that?

“This will do for now.” His hand reached Ralph’s small fingers, who reactively grabbed him. “You must be tired. Get some rest.” And with these caring words, he picked up his younger sibling, sheltering him in his embrace before heading towards the end of the hall.

I chuckled when Ralph peaked from behind Mace’s broad shoulders, his wide almond coffee-colored eyes blinking repeatedly, slightly dazed. He was indeed extremely cute.

Thinking a full month of relaxation was in the menu, my soul simply waited patiently for my husband-to-be, but it seemed like fate had other plans. Lunch time arrived, and, to my surprise, Duke Edgar Wharton had brought a rather familiar guest.

“Lady Ophelia, you are indeed as marvelous as the rumors say.” Bradley commented as the butlers pulled the chair, allowing me to sit right afterwards. It was hard to hide the discomfort from his presence but, somehow, I’d managed to hide the shock behind such sudden apparition, keeping my emotions at bay.

His half-assed intentions were as clear as day; being a sore loser and a womanizer who could only accept his value through a woman’s undying desire, he wished to settle the record straight – and steal my heart on the way.

As the servants entered the room, holding a vast number of plates, I politely gave my reply, playing his little treacherous game. “Thank you, Lord Bradley. You are too kind.”

A warm fragrance of tomato soup spread through the dining hall just to become baffled by the potent smell of grilled fish that followed. Without giving me a moment to recover, Bradley smiled sarcastically. “Where is Lord Terrel? Hasn’t he come to welcome you?”

He was testing me, teasing me, hoping to force my good-girl act to drop; however, he was too predictable. Never had my soul become sinful of pride nor it possessed anything of value to lose, being such display of dominance a mere children’s game.

“Lord Terrel is currently at the palace. Unfortunately, there were certain matters he needed to attend to.” Swiftly, my hands delivered a spoonful of soup to my lips, causing a tingling sensation to embrace my tongue, making me smile in satisfaction. This soup was surprisingly pleasant.

Seeing how I wasn’t caring about his presence, he continued. “Aren’t you sad? I’m sure you were anxious to meet him.”

“Of course, it is my fiancée we are talking about, but Terrel is a responsible man. He’d rather take care of his own instead of wandering around, meddling in other’s affairs.”

His expression turned sour once he saw my winning smirk. Even then, he grinned, displaying how strong his resolve was. “My Lady, you are so dedicated to your fiancée... I’m truly jealous.”

I rolled my eyes slightly before Mace interrupted the conversation, completely understanding the meaning hidden beneath such shallow words. “Congratulations on your engagement, Lord Bradley. Lady Amanda is a real beauty. You must be thrilled.”

The servants began replacing the now empty soup plates with the entrees. Annoyed, Bradley grabbed his wineglass and drank it in almost one gulp, his eyes drawn in an almost straight line, right at me. “Indeed.”

“How is your father faring with the mines? Has he encountered any difficulties?” Edgar commented while placing a piece of the fish on his mouth, gently chewing on it. His regular warm tone was rather cold, probably due to how displeasing the previous conversation was.

As the meal moved forward, Bradley continued to keep his attention on me, glaring at me every moment he could. Demons of greed and lust completely blinded his soul. No matter how anyone saw it, this man wasn’t a calm and beautiful angel like everyone painted him out to be.