The Criswell's Curse

The table was rather quiet, forcing its silence to feel like a giant entity, keeping everyone in check. Jade stood next to the other servants, calmly observing his surroundings, getting used to his new reality. His body was now clean and tidy, as his figure embraced a butler attire borrowed from one of the other workers. At the same time, Bradley ate his meal silently, but his gaze kept on finding mine, almost as if nothing else around him mattered.

“Who is this man, Ophelia?” Duke Wharton broke the silence with the most obvious question, carelessly glaring at the silver-haired man.

I had bought Jade in complete secrecy, however; such intervention was merely to keep up appearances in front of our guest. Edgar wasn’t dumb and as it stood, most servants were undoubtedly loyal to him – even after bribing the coachmen, he surely told my plans and whereabouts to his master. Otherwise, why would a butler be waiting for us at the entrance?

“He is my new personal guard, Your Grace.” To most, this would be considered a rather rude decision, but it was a matter of great urgency. It was clear I needed to have someone on my side, a man who could protect me and go against Terrel if worst came to worse. Be as it may, that could never be one of Edgar’s men. “I’m sorry for not warning you beforehand. I hope you will forgive your daughter’s selfish wish.”

I bowed, as if truly repenting for such mistake, but he simply laughed. “It is alright, but next time take Martin with you, that area of the capital is quite dangerous for a young lady.”

The knight standing guard at the side of the door straightened up and banged his thick fist onto the armor, as if letting me know he’d comply to any upcoming request of mine. Edgar’s kindness was utterly remarkable, blending into a thin shape of naiveness. How could he possible accept a stranger into his house simply because his future daughter-in-law had brought him? It was far too irrational.

My attention shifted to the side. Both Mace and Ralph sat across from each other, the youngest on my right. The little boy tried his hardest not to make any mistakes with his food as his small fingers struggled to cut the meal into thin slices. The more I observed, the heavier my chest felt. Their lives did not matter to me, and yet the further their presences sunk on me, the stranger my body became. Could this be... guilt?

This was Bradley’s fault. His presence forced everyone to be at their best behavior since no one could ignore the presence of a Trace. Yet, as my mind cursed that man with all the rougher words it knew, the dining room doors opened, and Olivia dashed right through moments before catching her feeble breath.

“Milady! I come with terrible news!” Her ordinarily pale skin was flushed from running while her hands held a letter with the Criswell’s crest on it.

“Calm down, Olivia. What happened?” Without being able to speak just yet, she simply stretched her arm, handing me the letter.

[Dear Ophelia,

Amanda has come down with a high fever. She is begging to see you.

Your sister might not last long.

Come as soon as you can.

Your father,

Alvin Criswell]

“Burn it.” Almost immediately, I returned the letter to her hands.

“But milady... your sister... she might die!” Her voice was higher than normal, as if she was overwhelmed by emotions. She probably thought me to be a coldhearted person, someone who couldn’t begin to care about her sister’s health in the slightest.

“Remember your place, Olivia.” The maid’s body shuddered with the bitter tone in my voice. “Disobey my orders one more time, and you shall get punished accordingly.”

“I’m terribly sorry, milady!” With no hesitation or restraint, she instantly kneeled, begging for forgiveness.

I could feel it. All the eyes on me, not just from the nobles at the table but from the servants standing on the sidelines. Everyone here knew these words were punishable, unthinkable. She couldn’t get away unscathed, or my presence would become a laughingstock for everyone in the room.

“What are you sorry for?”

She grew silent for a handful of seconds, unsure of what to reply. “For disobeying your orders, milady.”

“Rise.” With gentle taps, the napkin cleaned the corners of my mouth and my body rose, standing right in front of her. Slowly, she straightened her dress, following my movements. “You seem to lack education.”

“Mi...!” Before being able to speak her truth, my hand slapped her right cheek. Her widened eyes couldn’t believe what had just transpired.

The room was dead silent, having only the sound of faint breathing crawling from the bodies inside. She bit down on her bottom lip harshly, her hands grabbing the hem of her dress as she struggled to keep tears at bay. Olivia didn’t wish to show her weaker side, not with so many of her peers watching.

“If more letters arrive from them, what do you do?”

“Burn them.” She answered, nodding and leaving the room as rapidly as she could.

“I’m afraid I have to ask for your forgiveness, Your Grace, My Lords.” With a gentle bob, my voice tried to be as politely as it could. With the author of the crime gone, gossip flew at an abnormal speed through the servants.

“Do you have anything to say?” I questioned loudly, forcing them to feel a powerful pressure in their words. Of course, they grew quiet. “At least you are wise.”

“I take you know what your decision implied.” Edgar cut a large piece of steak, forcing the tableware to clash against the dish, his eyes peeking at me.

“I am well aware, Your Grace, but I hope you can respect my decision.” Burning all the letters would mean that my so-called family could not reach me, in any situation possible. A foreigner member to the Criswell’s household, would be my upcoming title, as if that wasn’t what I’d always been. “Besides, I feel safer here with you, with Father and my Brothers.”

Gently, I grabbed my plate, switching it with Ralph’s. Knowing he hadn’t been able to eat anything as he lacked the strength to cut the stake, my food had already been perfectly shaped just for him. The little boy’s eyes sparkled as he saw me wear a cordial yet kind smile.

“If that’s what you truly wish.” The Duke sighed. He didn’t seem particularly displeased or surprised, but one could see his concern. “I almost forgot. Terrel sent a letter. He is eager to meet you.”