Bradley had arrived at the ball earlier than the majority of the guests. He wanted to be the first one to catch Ophelia's attention, however, after several hours of waiting there was no sign of her.
'Did I think wrong? I was sure she would be coming,' Bradley was deep in thought just to be awakened by the loud voice of the ball's announcer.
"Lady Ophelia Criswell and Lord Mace Wharton" at these words Bradley feels a sudden pain in his chest. He had wanted to be her escort.
As she appeared at the beginning of the long staircases that separated them, Bradley found himself dazed by her beauty. He already saw her as a unique woman whose interest only rose by her attitudes and charm but he never would've thought that she would become so endearing.
His eyes were focused on her, as she carefully walked down the steps, and as she reached his level he woke up from that daydream. Right by her side was Mace Wharton but he left her right away since some Earls and Marquiss requested his presence. He saw Ophelia walk towards his fiancée, Amanda Criswell, and as she moved so elegantly he couldn't help but be attracted to her.
Bradley composes himself before noticing the eyes of the several nobles staring at her with lust and greed. He felt an intense desire of taking all of their filthy eyeballs out just for having those disgusting thoughts.
'You dare to look at her? She's mine,' he thought as he walked towards Ophelia.
Swiftly, his eyes become focused on Amanda, while portraiting his disgust, forcing her to leave almost in tears. Even then, he didn't feel any regret or sorrow as he watched her walk away rapidly.
He invites Ophelia for a dance in an extreme yet polite way, and, as the eyes were focused on them she had no choice but to accept. The first dance of a lady belongs to her family or her betrothed, however, he was neither of those. Bradley noticed that she was extremely unpleased with the situation but this was the only way to assert dominance as she was his and his alone.
'Everyone knows what a first dance means...' Bradley takes her hand and leads the way to the center of the ballroom.
The music begins, however, his prey didn't dare to look at him in the eyes. Not because she was embarrassed like the majority of the lambs around, but because she wouldn't give him that pleasure.
Bradley forcefully pushes her close to his chest with his hand holding her waist tightly and her eyes turn fiery, showering him with all her disgust and anger. As the orchestra became louder, their dance became a battle that he didn't intend to lose. Both parties were dominating in turns yet as the climax of the song is reached Bradley spins Ophelia and lays her body on his right arm.
Both were trying to catch their breath as the ballroom clapped euphorically after this incredible display of talent. He lifts her body and they both bow politely.
"Would you accompany me to a walk in the garden?" Bradley's lips held a smile as he knew that he had won this battle easily and fairly, however, he couldn't understand why Ophelia was also carrying a smile after such a swift defeat.
"Lord Bradley, you are indeed an angel, just like the rumors said."
"Lady Ophelia... That's..." he attempts to intervene, however, Ophelia manages to interrupt him without a second thought.
"I'm so tired... I'm so sorry Lord Bradley, you will have to find another partner for the next dance..." her voice was loud enough for the nobles around to hear, and soon after he finds himself swarmed around with young ladies from different houses.
"Lord Bradley, please allow me...!" a brunette with a strong perfume stated.
"I am a great dancer my lord, you won't be disappointed!" a blonde girl grabbed his arm while pushing her breasts onto him.
"No, I am better! Please my lord!" a third woman joins the fight followed by a bunch of other ladies.
As he watched Ophelia leave with a grin on her face he became filled with frustration. He had won that battle yet he had lost one immediately after. Bradley couldn't believe how cunning this fifteen-year-old was, it was almost as if she was older than what she was letting people know but that was impossible.
"Leave," Bradley glares coldly at the young ladies making them back away slightly in fear, however, he soon regained his senses, "I'm sorry, I am unwell," he smiles politely and heads towards the main door before leaving the building.
「 The next day, middle of the afternoon 」
"Father, what do you mean the marriage was rescheduled!?" Bradley was confused about how this situation had come to be. Yesterday night he had been rude to Amanda and he earnestly thought that she would quickly give up on him.
'How could this be...?' he couldn't understand but he knew something was wrong, almost as if someone else was pulling the strings.
"Duke Criswell came earlier today and he had a very interesting offer, that's all you need to know," the cold and heartless expression on Duke Trace's face was something Bradley always witnessed ever since he was a child. It was nothing new, yet it still made him cower in his statements.
"You must reconsider!" at the spur of the moment he ended up saying something he shouldn't have only to regret it a second later.
"Are you ordering me Bradley Trace!? I'm still the Duke. Remember your place or I will teach you again!" Bradley gulped at the thought of being punished by his father again. He was a vile man but even then, he couldn't bring himself to hate him, in fact, everything he had ever done in his life was to get recognized by him. All the stains in his pure soul were created for his acceptance, even though he knew that day would never come since he was not his older brother.
"No father, I apologize for my rudeness," instantly Bradley gets down on his knees and bows, however, his father doesn't show any reaction.
"Leave, I'm sick of seeing your face," after hearing his father's order he quickly gets up and heads towards his study.
Bradley was frustrated. Throughout the years he did everything his father asked of him, he accomplished things no human could at an early age but, even then, the Duke's eyes were always cold.
'You are the same as that woman,' he would often say with his rough voice. Apparently, Bradley was the accurate portrait of his deceased mother and that annoyed his father deeply.
Whenever Bradley carved for something, fought for something, his father would often mark him with "Know your place". Those teachings became a part of him, going as far as to scar his heart and mind.
"Amanda... You should know your place you whore," he grits his teeth in anger as his hand punched the hard wall.
One thing he hated was being played with and now both sisters had done it, however, his hatred for Amanda was something he couldn't even think of describing. His wish was to crush her little skull onto the floor, opening it up and bathing her ugly crimson hair in bright red blood.
"Yes that would teach her..." he mumbled to himself as his body became eager to kill the one who dared to block his path.
"Master, I have brought your meal," a female voice speaks after several knocks on the door are heard. The woman in her mid-twenties entered the room and placed the food tray on a big wooden desk situated in the center of the room.
"Then I'll take my leave, if you need anything else please let me know," the maid bows down but suddenly feels a strong grip on her wrist. Shocked she turns around and is greeted by Bradley whose green eyes were sparkling with lust.
"Vera... You are beautiful..." Bradley's hands caress her cheeks roughly as her eyes portraited pure fear, "You know your place... Why can't Amanda be like you?" the maid was at a loss of words, she didn't know what to reply as she had no idea of what he was talking about, "Beautiful... Extremely beautiful... That's why I love you, Vera, you know your place... You know that you are nothing but a filthy peasant and you act like one... It's beautiful..." his eyes didn't match his words, he had lost his reason and Vera felt like the next breath she would take would be her last.
"Yes, master," the grin on Bradley's lips disappears as he orders her to leave the room unpleased.
No one outside of the house Trace knew but Bradley had a troublesome personality. He loved beautiful things but he only found beauty in those who followed his father's teachings: people that "knew their place". Besides that he is a sore loser, he needs to win at everything, every time since that is the perfection his father forced him to accomplish. Weirdly enough, Ophelia was the only thing that didn't match both of these criteria yet still affected him deeply forcing wishes of lust and greed to become united just like light and darkness.
After settling down and regaining his senses Bradley writes a letter to the Wharton's mansion addressed to Ophelia.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
'He just wants me to marry a Criswell, it doesn't matter who, isn't that right,' he thinks as he scribbles through the paper sheets.
Bradley couldn't bring himself to justify his father's decision. He knew something was not right and he was sure Amanda's father was the one behind it.
"Vera, deliver this to the Wharton's as soon as possible and prepare my carriage, I need to visit a friend," the maid opens the door and bows right before leaving with the letter in her hands. It was time to pay a little visit to the Criswell's.
✽ ✼ ✽ ✼ ✽ ✼ ✽
「 The same day, early morning 」
"Milady, it's time to wake up," I hear a female's voice calling my name and, as I open my eyes, I see Olivia.
"Yes..." I yawn right before heading towards the bathtub the maids had previously prepared.
"Do you have any plans for today miss?" Olivia asks as she scrubs my back. Her hands were gentle and her brown eyes reminded me of the warmth of the earth in Blistering, on the other hand, her dark blonde hair looked like the color of the warm sky as the sun began to set.
"I intend to go to the capital today. I want to see how it is," I smile politely just to hear her gasp.
"You've never been to the capital milady?" I couldn't blame her surprise. The majority of the nobility went to the royal palace in the capital at least once in their lives, however, I was never able to, at least freely on unique days. I was always trapped and the most I could do was to visit a small village close to the estate. Besides, in my other lives, I never thought about living leisurely so going to the capital for fun was not an option.
During my 7th life, I did visit the capital for a brief time. I had murdered both Layton Verne and Terrel Wharton but soon my crime came to light and I was executed in the capital. Even then, I thought that life would be different but as the crown prince was about to order the execution a flying arrow engulfed in flames was shot at me, and soon my whole body was on fire. He just watched my demise with a cold expression and so, I ended up dying, once again, to the flames.
'He could at least have given the order and shown some mercy...' I think as I recall some of my past memories.
"The capital is a great place, you will love it!" Olivia was the only maid that tried to act friendly towards me. In fact, I don't think she is acting, she is just an air-head. Even after leaving the Criswell's everyone is scared of me, they fear they might catch "the curse" and so they only do what they are requested to do, not attempting to form any type of relationship with me.
After a couple of days of living in the Duke's estate I already realized that the majority of the employees are working for Terrel and so, since they don't know how our relationship will flourish, they also keep their distance respectfully. No one here is a fool, in fact, they are all cautious and smart making them harder to control.
'I will need to place them on my side if I want to get rid of Terrel...' I stare at the group of ladies that helped me get ready.
"Milady a letter arrived for you," another maid enters the room as Olivia dried up my body with a warm cotton towel.
"A letter?" I frown as my suspicion rises.
'There is no one in the kingdom who will send me a letter so who exactly...?' my thoughts rambled around every single noble and family that might have had some mercy on me, however, it soon, comes to an end as I read the first letters.
"Bradley Trace," I click my tongue displeased as I read his name on the contents of the letter.
[ To my dear Ophelia,
I hope this letter finds you well. Even though we saw each other yesterday I can already feel the ache in my heart from your beautiful yet stinging words.
I am sure you must have been already informed of this matter but your sister, Amanda, has decided to move up our wedding. I will go to your father's estate to settle the final matters and hopefully meet with you after.
I like chamomile tea the most.
Bradley Trace ]
'This asshole...' anyone who would read this letter wouldn't understand his true intentions, however, I did. He intended to cancel the wedding and then he would decide to bother me until I accepted his request, 'So he wants us to switch, is it?' I chuckle at this thought.
"Ah... My head..." I frown my eyebrows just to see Olivia's puzzled expression.
'Why did things end up like this...' I couldn't understand what made Bradley's interest in me spike to this extent. In my other lives, he never cared yet now he looks eager to mess with me, 'What did I do wrong...?'
After letting out a long sigh I head to the Duke's study room in order to inform him of my departure and soon enough I leave the house in the smallest carriage of the Wharton's.
✽ ✼ ✽ ✼ ✽ ✼ ✽
After traveling for half an hour we reach the outskirts of the capital.
"Come pick me up at eight at this spot," I tell the coachmen right before placing up my hood and heading towards the main city. I knew that my black hair was rare and I needed to hide it in order to remain hidden from curious stares.
'You never know who you might find...' the nobles were restless and had eyes everywhere. I needed to play safe.
Fifteen minutes pass and I start seeing several houses in the distance.
'It is indeed very close,' I smug as I walk past several traveling merchants that chatted happily about their new products.
My clothing was similar to what a peasant would use, courtesy of Duke Criswell in order to prevent any suspicions from rising. As I walked around the people, I could see that no one was interested in me and with that, I started to relax.
'Hopefully, Olivia will keep her mouth shut,' I think as I recall Bradley's letter. I specifically told her to remain oblivious, claiming not to know where I went, however, I don't know where her loyalty lies.
The main streets were lively filled with people walking around. The shops were beautifully arranged, placing their best items in the eyes of the customers who looked at them delighted. On the other hand, the pleasant smell coming from the restaurants and cafés was a bit overwhelming.
As I walk further into the city the people begin to decrease and the happiness begins to fade. The buildings were made with less quality and everything seemed less inviting. The shops were humble and slightly dirty. The place was filled with bars and drunkards that walked around without a path in their minds after swallowing all their sorrows and regrets.
Against the concrete walls, people dressed in extremely cheap clothes glared, suspiciously, at the invaders of their territory. I pull my hood harder in a pitiful attempt to further hide my face.
'So this is the rotten cherry...' people from all the trades walked around, from noblemen that came out of the bars to poor kids who begged for money.
Finally, after a long walk, I reach my destination. A tall building made of thick dark red bricks was grandiosely standing before me. The agglomeration of bystanders around the building rose and I could easily understand they were none other than guards, hiding sharp swords behind their large attires. For regular people this place was nothing more than a successful bar, however, for the people who entered through the right side door, this was their gateway.
The strangers glared at me suspiciously yet no words were said. I knock six times on the door and a man with the appearance of a mercenary opens the door cheerfully.
"What do ya want? Did you lost your way kid?" I could smell the tobacco and alcohol through his breath as he spoke.
"It is a lovely day for a picnic," I state while rising my head just to see his big and deep scar on his left cheek. His eyes widen in surprise.
"Indeed. Come on in kid," the man chuckles as his attitude changes completely.
'Was he pretending to be drunk?' as we enter the building I observe his behavior and somehow I knew he had been sober all along.
As we walked down the somewhat dark and long halls that had several locked wooden doors, I could feel the pressure in every single pace I took. As my lungs inhaled the gingery fragrance from the incenses on the top shelves my body began to feel lighter but my mind more precise. There were eyes and ears everywhere, staring at me, glaring at me, analyzing me.
'I'm surrounded,' I thought. I never expected this to be easy but I didn't think it would be this overwhelming either. Knowing I will be caught the precise moment I do anything these people might not like is more than terrifying. Truthfully, I am not scared of death itself as I have greeted it several times, however, the thought of being tortured makes me shiver in fear, 'Calm down, breathe, you are fine,' I keep on thinking inside my head.
The man stops in front of a door and stops while his deep brown eyes stare into mine. I couldn't tell what was inside of his mind but I needed this, I needed to get in, no matter what.
"I am in need of some flowers. Tulips to be exact," at my statement the man grins, amused, and opens the big wooden door.
My eyes blink as they get used to the bright red light that covered the room. Walls painted crimson red while the floor was hidden by a heavy yet furry dark brown carpet. The smell of ginger disappears, giving birth to a fragrance I had never smelled before: the mixture of several heavy incenses.
I couldn't help but gasp as I looked at the size of the room I was in. Several men and women, of all ages and gender, were behind stalls, showcasing their products patiently, just like a carnivorous plant waits for its prey.
'It's like a city...' I couldn't help but think this was more than just a mere business made by an organization, 'Heck, this is a world of its own!'
"Keep walking forward and you will reach the tulip garden, make sure to knock two times," the man closes the door and lights up his cigarette right before heading to a small bar on the right.
In my 2nd life, I overheard Marquiss Verne talking about a "special garden" in the capital.
'A garden with a flower for any type of need' he said to Duke Criswell.
At the time, I couldn't understand what he meant since flowers cannot possibly fulfill any needs, however, after some months I managed to catch two of the guards talking, as they came back to the estate after a late night of drinking.
'And you know, that prick wants to go there again tomorrow,' one of them said as he leaned his body on the other.
'He must've bought all of the black market by now... These rich people and their spending, if I was rich I would spend it with Emma!' the other one chuckles.
'Why? She's a prostitute dude,' he lets out a loud burp.
'But she gives better handjobs than I give myself!' they both started laughing.
"The Garden" was the name everyone used for the black market in the capital since, all their products and services, were associated with a special type of flower. As the time passed and as both guards got drunk I began to pull some of the pieces together: 'Roses' were for contracting assassins, 'Tulips' were for buying slaves and 'Sunflowers' were for purchasing drugs and 'Orchids' for poisons.
As I wandered through the room I noticed how ignorant I was. In here, one would sell almost everything starting from cheap aphrodisiacs, to expensive forbidden weapons.
'No idea why that would be sold,' I notice some items that resembled trash being sold in a couple of stands further ahead.
I stop at a thick, metal door and do what I was told. Soon after I hear several different sounds, almost as if someone was unlocking the several padlocks they had placed on the door. A tall bald man opens the door and, after not seeing me in front of him, looks down.
"Are you here to see the Tulips miss?" he grins as he sees my figure and I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine.
"Yes," I reply and the man leads me downstairs.