The Criswell's Curse

While leaving the kitchen with some chunks of raw meat, Bradley greeted me with his annoyingly, yet charming smile. “It seems you were mistaken as our paths are connected once more, My Lady.”

“My Lord.” After bowing down, my feet turned and began heading towards the chambers. Wasting time with this man was not part of my plans, however, he kept walking behind me, keeping up with my pace. I stopped and turned around. “Excuse me for my rudeness but, what might you be doing?”

His eyes widened, surprised with my bluntness. “Escorting a young lady, to the place where she is headed, of course.” His delightful smile would melt any girl’s heart if they weren’t careful. It was rather easy to see why Amanda wanted this man to be her husband: his power was uncontestable; his wealth overwhelming and his angel-like beauty otherworldly.

“Lord Bradley, escorting a maiden to her chambers while engaged might stain one’s image.” I politely stated, letting him know to leave me alone.

And again, that lovable, charming, perfect smile. “Thank you for your concern, My Lady, but my image won’t be stained by unfounded gossip.”

“Ophelia! What are you doing here!?” Amanda appeared with her entourage, coming from the southern area of the garden; her sharp eyes looking ready for a fight.

A sigh escaped my body realizing the problem at hand. Someone saw us and, just like faithful dogs, they ratted us out. I didn’t intend to waste my breath with a spoiled child and an egocentric bastard but, just as fate seemed grim, the coin switched, turning into a hidden opportunity.

“My dear sister, Lord Bradley was looking for you.” I commented with a warm smile on my lips. A blunt lie with enough impact to turn the tides. Amanda’s eyes began sparkling with happiness. “He asked me to bring you to him.”

Without caring for anything else, she promptly grabbed her fiancé’s arm, making him frown, displeased. Now, I was nothing more than a mere burden as her soul showered Bradley with unwanted attention.

“Is it true, My Lord?” She asked, a wide smile displayed on her bright red lips. “I was eager to meet you as well, but Father was...” Amanda continued to blabber about useless matters, not realizing her fiancé’s attention laid elsewhere.

Now solve this yourself. My gaze connected with his, a proud smirk on my lips. His eyes were sharp, glaring at me as if he had found a new prey. Giving no room for his reply, I turned on my heels and left the not-so lovebirds alone. A lady should know how to read the mood, isn’t that right?

“Kitten, I brought you some food.” Reaching my chambers and after placing a small, slightly broken clay bowl on the floor, my hands filled it with cut chunks of meat. Not even a second after, a black fur ball popped out from underneath the bedsheets, eyes glimmering with excitement.

Unconsciously, my fingers moved towards its soft fur; however, it quickly backed away. His tail leaned upwards, annoyed by my presence. “Fine, no petting.”

As he ate his food, I sat on the wooden chair near a small desk, removing something similar to a book from a cloth bag before placing it on top of the dark planks.

What do I know about Bradley? Somehow, he was still on my mind which created a strange uneasiness within me.

During my previous lives, every time we met, he was already wed to my sister. Our interactions were minimal, with simple polite greetings at parties that Terrel or Layton attended but something was odd. I remembered seeing, during our brief encounters, a shadow lingering behind his eyes, as if something darker was tightly locked inside his mind.

Even then, he was the topic of very avid conversations. As young maidens wished to be the owners of his heart, Amanda bragged, making them badmouth her instead with hearts tainted by jealousy. They all wanted to be Bradley’s wife; thus, they were extremely persistent, fighting amongst each other for any bit of attention they could attain.

If my sister had to leave for a moment, just like moths to a flame, the young maidens would gather around him almost instantly. It was probably because of these feats that he earned a very peculiar nickname.

“The Angel of the Kingdom...” I whispered as my fingers scribbled such thoughts on an empty paper sheet.

How did he earn that nickname in the first place? My mind was filled with possibilities, none good enough to explain such an event. Of course, his beauty was one factor, but it seemed too simple of an explanation as nicknames within high nobility were usually created out of usability. Could it have been his father, Carlyle?

One thing I remembered vividly was how forced his interactions were. No matter who he talked with, his eyes appeared dull, filled with boredom, and his words completely mechanic, as if he was something else, far away from a human.

My hand grabbed the cover of the book and closed it. This uneasiness I felt whenever Bradley came to mind was more unsettling than thinking about the monster of my fiancé to be. I knew staying away was the safest and easiest route.