“What did you just say?” Patricia’s voice echoed loudly through the room, causing the comb to slide off the maid’s grasp, having been completely startled.
“A carriage from the Wharton’s estate... is arriving...?” The young girl’s hands slithered into the center of her dress, knowing fully well her mistress was more than furious.
Don’t tell me... Patricia rapidly got up, forcefully pushing the maid onto the ground as she left her chambers. Like thunder, her heels pressed into the wooden hallway at a rapid pace, anxiety roaring within. Yet, it didn’t seem to be quick enough as the main butler opened the door to reveal what she feared the most.
“Lady Patricia, it has been so long.” With a kind smile stretching on her pale pinkish lips, Ophelia made a shiver run through the noble’s spine. “You look well.”
“Lady... Ophelia?” The memories of that day still flourished at the base of her skin; everything was far too vivid, far too bright. The gruesome blood rapidly consuming the green grass around it, the voices of the nobles, gasping and whispering in the wind, Bradley’s body carrying the girl away and how she wasn’t able to hold herself, suffering utter embarrassment in front of everyone.
All it took was the mere glimpse of the grin on Ophelia’s face, how it contorted in her lips like a sickening adrenaline the moment the knife penetrated into her neck. She’d never been drugged, she’d never been the victim, thus, all her words seemed to be made of complete and utter lies.
They are both insane... Patricia thought to herself, seeing how composed the second daughter of the Duke displayed herself. Certainly, Amanda’s emotions were everywhere, like a roaring tide unable to be stopped, however, Ophelia’s were hidden beneath a thick layer of ice, making it impossible to understand anything that passed through her mind.
There were rumours. How Alvin Criswell had orchestrated the whole thing, making him seem like a man who lacked personal respect or honour; how Amanda hadn’t been raised properly, threatening the life of her younger sister who sadly had been caught in the crossfire. But deep down she knew: the Criswell’s were frightful creatures whose trust was gone as easily as a flower that can be picked in the vast fields outside.
“I’m terribly sorry for my sudden visit, but I need to urgently meet with Earl Hillgarden.” Without giving her the light of day, Ophelia smiled and passed through Patricia.
With father? Why? Dumbfounded, and trying to understand what was happening, she attempted to follow behind her, hands grabbing the hem of her long, luxurious dress.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Father isn’t...”
“Earl Hillgarden!” Ophelia’s voice purposely rose, and her pace grew softer, gentler the moment her gaze fell on the man standing in the side door, right by the stairs. “Earl, please forgive my rudeness for arriving uninvited, but I have an urgent matter to discuss.”
“Lady Ophelia, what a surprise.” Devlin’s hands handed the loose paper sheets to his butler, causing a wide smile to stretch almost into his ears. “Certainly I can manage some time.”
As they were about to leave, Patricia grabbed the vest of the Earl, mimicking a kid. Something about this didn’t feel right. “Father?”
“You should go do something else for now, child.” Was all he said before escorting Ophelia into his study room.
“But Father...!” Hastily, she ran into the room.
“Patricia Hillgarden! Don’t make me repeat myself!” Devlin’s loud voice struck her like a hammer, causing her figure to freeze, being merely able to observe the butler’s hands pulling the doors, closing the light coming from the study to fade into nothingness.
Inside, the Earl pushed one of the black chairs back, allowing Ophelia’s slender body to gracefully rest on the comfortable seat. Across her, his fingers intertwined on top of the desk, a certain sleekness in his almond eyes.
“So, what can I help you with, my lady?”
“I visited Millicia today.” The girl commented, leaning her torso forward. “Her execution is tomorrow.”
“My lady knows too much kindness, visiting a criminal on death row with such ease...” Devlin’s harsh gaze fell on her, noticing her lack of nervousness even when being placed under such avid pressure. “However, I must say I don’t understand how I could assist with such matter...
“Actually, Earl, you can. I’d like you to remove your claims against Millicia.”
“And why would I go against justice and our kingdom’s law?”
At that moment, the environment grew heavier, a strong tension passing through the gazes of both nobles, each taking a stance, marking a position.
Now, little girl, what will you do when it doesn’t go your way? Devlin’s finger slowly tapped on the desk, causing a strange muffled sound to flow through.
“We both know who the real culprit is, Lord Devlin.” Ophelia’s lips twisted into a cold, slithery smile. “Wouldn’t it be wise to use his own disposable pawn?”
How amusing. In a mere second, the young girl’s presence became strangely enticing, as her wicked mind and ideals slowly crawled out of her. For her age, she was surprisingly cunning, something he’d seen once before. She’s just like her father, perhaps even better.
“Surely it is, my lady, but how much profit will that truly provide, I wonder...”