Understanding the Earl wanted to earn his keep on this agreement, the young girl leaned back, her hair trapping itself on the back of the chair. “Didn’t you know the crows like to eat the seeds from the south? I heard they will be the juiciest this year...”
The granaries in the south? Is she serious? Everyone knew about the southern droughts, how the land didn’t manage to grow much and how their granaries were constantly empty - most of it being stolen for the few nobles around. For years, they were constantly asking for assistance, begging the crown for more funds, for seeds to feed the people that died of starvation every time Blistering came along.
“And what type of seeds do crows enjoy?”
“They are particularly fond of pumpkin seeds... especially the ones from the west.” At her words, the Earl’s eyes widened before furrowing down, causing him to become riddled with deep thoughts.
Most of the southern granaries, especially the ones from the west, lacking any liege, had poor management as lower nobility ended up stealing all they could get their hands upon. Lord Tuck, the man that was placed in charge of a handful of them, had been stricken with an incurable disease that kept on worsening by the day. With no heir and in no state to control the land, everything fell on his poor wife, who was a sucker for pretty faces. Such a curse ended up being a blessing in disguise: when some western merchants arrived from foreign lands, hoping to trade and sell their goods, Lady Tuck rapidly gave in to their demands.
What everyone failed to realize was that pumpkins couldn’t thrive in harsh climate and poor soil, thus no matter how many seeds were planted in the northern lands, they all failed to sprout. Being considered a delicacy that can only be imported from abroad, pumpkins were one of the most expensive foods, being solely acquired by the cream of the cake.
So the one who holds the granaries will become the most desirable man... at least for this harvesting season. Ophelia thought, seeing the Earl completely consumed by his ideals.
“The crows don’t wait for a soul to have their feast, Earl.”
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Earl Hillgarden stopped, his eyes sharpened like two piercing daggers. Duke Criswell was no fool and he would soon find out about this matter, after all, his land was located in one of the southern terrains. The opportunity window was short, yet still feasible if one was trusting enough.
In the midst of the silence, Devlin opened his drawer and took out an empty sheet. In his thick, calloused fingers, a beautiful raven quill started to pour its ink into the pearliness of the surface, staining it with regretful words. It seemed he had made his final, extremely wise decision.
“We will celebrate with a freshly baked pumpkin pie.” He said as he folded the paper in three and placed it inside an envelope.
“Please allow me to deliver it.” Ophelia’s hand stretched, waiting for the item to be placed within her slender fingers. “Thank you, Earl. I shall take my leave, but before I must warn you, crows who are crossed never forget. Keep such thoughts with you.”
“Fear not, my lady. I am quite capable of handling a couple of pesky birds.” Devlin’s lips turned into a half moon, stained by greed. “I’ll be sure to keep in touch.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The moment the door opened, Patricia’s eyes perked up, glancing at the raven-haired girl carrying a letter in her hands. Half an hour, that was the time they had taken inside, making every single piece of her mind crawl into pits of nervousness, of uncontrollable thoughts that were far worse that words could describe.
“Lady Ophelia!” She bolted, heart beating loudly in her ears. “Are you done? Then please, have a safe trip!”
“Lady Patricia...” At the mention of her name, she stopped, feeling the nasty glare from the Duke’s daughter on her. Her slender fingers fell on the noble lady’s dress and her lips approached her right ear, causing a shiver to run through Patricia’s spine. “We will be seeing each other quite often, so we should get along, yes? Now be a good girl and behave.”
Patricia’s eyes widened, yet her adrenaline filled body turned colder than ice, being unable to even breathe. All she could do was watch the girl walk out the door, accompanied by the Earl’s butler, wearing an innocent smile on her lips and an intense bitterness in her eyes.
She’s not normal... she can’t be. Tears slowly gathered as air barely escaped her lungs. This wasn’t an empty threat, nor a warning. This was far worse. Ophelia had cursed her, allowing her to see the real wickedness in her soul, and now she was bound to such a secret, whether she wanted it or not.