The Criswell's Curse

Two hours later, further to the outskirts of the city, starting to slowly blend into nothingness but a forest, the Hillgarden’s light pink shade popped from between the greenery, displaying its wealth as we approached. The tall building rose into a total of four floors; however, it looked like a strange box, not extending much to the sides in order to compensate for such height.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” After a couple of minutes waiting for my objective in the guest room, Patricia entered with her long brown hair completely loosened, flowing into her caramel-colored dress. When her deep chocolate eyes glared down on me, her thoughts became clear – she was suspicious of my visit.

“It is quite alright, Lady Ophelia. I wasn’t busy either way.” As a fake smile rested on her lips, the maids quickly placed several cookies and small pieces of cake on top of the low wooden table. “Please have a seat.”

As we sat down on parallel couches, one maid quietly poured some linden tea into two porcelain cups, allowing its fragrance to fill the space as the warmth flowing from the steam of the pipping out substance mingled with the air. “You are very kind.”

After some minutes of awkward silence, Patricia spoke. “My Lady, what brings you here today?”

I grabbed the warm teacup and placed it against my pale pink lips. It was easy to see her anxiety, even when she tried so desperately to hide it. She was eager to leave as Amanda wouldn’t take this little interaction lightly.

“Honestly, I didn’t know if I should visit you, My Lady... but I knew I needed to apologize.”

Seeing me bow right in front of her, head as low as a commoner’s, caused her to stutter. “La-Lady Ophelia!?”

“You can’t, isn’t it...? That’s what I thought... I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll be taking my leave.” As tears rolled down my cheeks, my body headed to the door. A cold sensation suddenly traveled through my arm. Patricia had taken the bait.

Carefully, she placed her hand above mine, before guiding me towards the couch, sitting right beside me. Her fingers then placed a beautifully crafted handkerchief filled with magnificent embroideries and a calm scent of lavender in it on my rolling tears, sealing them away into the fabric.

“Take this.”

“Thank you... My Lady.” Hesitantly, I finished wiping my tears away with this extremely predictable gift.

“Why did you apologize?”

“That night... at Lady Catherine’s ball... my drink was...” Like an award-winning theater, emotions flew through me, preventing my sentence from ever being completed. “I couldn’t control myself, My Lady... I scared you, didn’t I? And Lady Holly as well... I’m terribly sorry...”

“Drugged!?” Patricia’s eyes widened, clearly not wanting to believe my words. “Who would do such a thing!? Could it be...!”

And with that, the noble maiden begun babbling about the events of that dreadful night. What she had seen, who she hadn’t; creating theories far more exquisite than any mystery plots a writer could ever come up with – the imagination of a youngster truly knew no bounds.

My dear, sweet sister Amanda had two so-called friends: Patricia Hillgarden, the second child of Earl Hillgarden; and Holly Statton, the third child of Earl Statton. During my previous lives, we met often as they took turns into abusing me with their cursive words and haughty glares, all under my sister’s orders. Yet, despite all of that, we all had one thing in common: we despised Amanda.

Of course, they followed her around like beautifully trained dogs, but that wasn’t their choice. They had to please their fathers, who hoped to gain Duke Criswell’s favor and increase their family’s prestige through the innocent friendship of the young maidens who just happened to be their daughters.

Even then, none of them were lacking guilt nor sins. Patricia had a sadistic side locked away, where she loved to order people around, force them to do unspeakable, humiliating things – perfectly reflecting the behavior my dear sister had done to her since childhood. Holly, on the other hand, had this strangely perfect grace, always being kind, generous and warm, a Saint as some said. A superbly crafted façade, if you ask me.

Hypocrisy was one of the easiest weapons to use. Patricia could’ve let me go, allowed me to exit her house without uttering another word and yet, she didn’t. News of the foul waters between the Trace’s and our family had already spread, leaving only the Whartons. Seeing me weak, defenseless and pouring my eyes out, like a naïve young girl, was the perfect way for her to control a convenient chess piece.

“Do you have any clues?” Her fake concerned eyes glared at mine intensely, hoping to find another weakness, another soft spot to hit, to seduce me into become her life-long friend.

“I don’t...” I sighed. “But I think I can find out who did it.”

She gasped, surprised by my resolution. “How? Isn’t it impossible?”

“The culprit was at the ball, so if I hosted a tea party with the same guests, then...” I shook my head aggressively, a hint of disappointment behind my voice. “But I can’t... Father is too busy arranging everything for sister’s wedding and how could I ask Duke Wharton? I am yet to wed his son...”

“We could host it here!” And again, this gullible girl took the bait way too easily. “We have a large garden, perfect for a party! If you host it here, no one would be troubled, I assure you.”

Of course, for a daughter of an Earl, this situation was as sweet as honey. Within Ashen’s Kingdom, hierarchy had to be respected, especially between nobility members. One could only send invitations to those below their station; thus, an Earl could never invite a Marquess or a Duke. Sometimes, like in Lady Catherine’s case, this was ignored, but one had to possess a social influence great enough to surpass these stereotypical barriers.

“Are you sure Patricia?! I don’t mean to trouble you or your father...”

She quickly cupped my hands in hers, a bright smile stamped on her lips, her eyes glimmering with expectation and excitement for the days to come. “It is alright! Just make sure to invite everyone!”

“Should we make it a week from today, then?”

Patricia nodded her head strongly, leaning her body towards me into a warm embrace. “We’ll definitely find the culprit, My Lady!”

After that, she had a monologue about the most trivial of subjects which, incidentally, all led to Bradley. It seemed like the rumors still lacked cause; thus, I was safe from the maiden’s anger… at least for now.