“Your Highness, the fool is the one whose pride is too high to see the truth.”
At her words, his body stiffened, and the environment grew heavy enough to cause Aldrich’s fists to clench. Ophelia was teasing the beast, attempting to fight in a war which, to her side, was unwinnable.
“Are you calling me a fool?” The prince’s eyes fell on the girl, whose chest grew heavy, tighten enough to stop her breath for a handful of moments. His gaze was so icy her own body froze, causing all the blood circulating in her veins to coagulate, as if she was but a corpse, waiting to be buried with its peers.
“Your Highness, she is indeed innocent. The Earl has removed his claim and you mustn’t consider Duke Criswell’s accusation.”
At that moment, Aldrich’s eyes widened, understanding how far the relationship between a daughter a father had been strained. Contrary to the prince, who was infatuated by her presence, the aide seemed to be immune to her charms. Like a lotus flower, he was slowly seeing the real Ophelia Criswell, a girl who was naïve but held a deep grudge against her own father, something that could certainly prove useful.
“And why is that? You better give me a good reason.”
Being a Duke, his accusation could never be neglected. After all, a title equaled status and such is not a mere word in a small piece of paper. To remove Alvin’s testimony, the girl needed to bring an undeniable fact, a truth that everyone, or at least another noble with the same power, could comply to.
“As you may know, the Duke was accused of poisoning me.”
“By the prisoner. That is but slander, you can’t possibly take such accusation seriously.” Blake sat back down, forcing such ugly words to come out. Truth be told, Aldrich had interrogated many nobles regarding this matter and all the stories reported matched far too perfectly, as if they’d been bought off by someone who wished to bury their true intentions.
“Of course, but were you aware that, moments before drinking the tea, my sister attempted to take away my life?” Her frail hands slithered her long raven hair to the side, revealing a small horizontal crust which was in the middle of healing. “Knowing this, surely Millicia’s words don’t appear so farfetched, do they? And, besides, wouldn’t it be wrong to consider his claim since I am the victim?”
The men’s eyes widened in surprise, completely taken off guard by such development. Aldrich let out an audible gasp, feeling more and more confused with the matter at hand. Since he was born, he had always been the smart one, the sole man who read people so easily, too easily - yet, this noble girl was shredded in mystery. In one moment, she was fearful of the prince, but on the other she spoke so casually about death, about her own family and their personal affairs.
What is going on...? Blake’s gaze focused on the wound, which only gave birth to many thoughts. His fists grabbed his trousers strongly, attempting to find a justification, anything that might have been plausible, yet none seemed good enough. By the deepness of the cut, the maiden was going to be scarred for life, which most likely would cause her engagement to Terrel to be dissolved, as that man valued perfection and beauty above everything else. Did she do it with that in mind...?
With both men completely confused but entranced by the pitiful display of a hurt, young, naive girl, Ophelia sensed a current of pride flow through her. Surely this would be enough to free Millicia and to sink the Duke’s reputation even further, just as she wished to.
“I will personally investigate this matter.” Still confused as to why a father would try to kill his own child, Blake sighed. “My aide will inform you once a decision has been made. You may leave.”
“Your Highness!?” Aldrich spoke up, completely shocked by the sudden turn of events. How could this girl change the prince’s resolve with some mere words?
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“I’m certain you will bring true justice to this, Your Highness. You have my eternal gratitude.” Ophelia got up and took a bow, her hands grabbing the hem of her crimson dress in a rather innocent manner. As she passed through the aide, a gentle smile spread across her lips. “I’m also very thankful for your help on this matter, Aldrich.”
“I only did what any person would’ve done, milady...” Still rather appalled, the aide watched her leave and closed the door once again. His attention then lied on the prince whose fingers held the chin of a very pondering mind. “Your Highness, are you really going to look into this matter personally?”
“You heard her. Her own sister tried to kill her. Should I just ignore such event like my mother does?” Blake’s body leaned back, causing the palpitations in his heart to settle. “Aldrich, I gave her my word.”
“I... understand.” Not wanting to interfere further, the aide bobbed his head and left the room, allowing his master to be alone with his own thoughts.
However, as he walked through the halls, he caught a glimpse of the young woman exiting the palace grounds; her figure being escorted by a white-haired man all dressed up in one of the finest butler suits money could purchase. An irking sensation travelled through his skin as her fake smile came to mind. The girl hid far more than led on and after seeing her effect on the prince, he needed to urgently know what hid behind such doors - she’d be a friend, or a foe and it was imperative to find out which.
Two days had already clocked by when Aldrich entered the prince’s private chambers with a rather thick book whose two first pages had been ripped off, threatening to fall down once it opened.
“Did you bring it?” Blake questioned, rapidly heading towards the central table of the room, where his aide dumped the book and everything within.
“Yes, Your Highness.” His fingers rapidly stole a piece of paper filled with names and handed it to his master, knowing this was the most crucial information of all. “Here is the list of guests that attended Lady Ophelia’s tea party, alongside all servants that accompanied each guest and all the workers at the Earl’s mansion.”
Noticing the list spread onto two full pages, he sighed. Why had he taken this upon himself in the first place?
“Who were the closest people to the incident?” Blake questioned as his gaze rapidly flew through the written words.
“From what I gathered, Lord Bradley and the three sons of Duke Wharton were very close to the lady during the incident, but her family had been with her for quite a long time before, in fact, they were just some tables apart.”
Once the prince’s gaze spotted Catherine’s name, his heart tingled. Surely, she would know precisely what had happened, but her information never came free and being as she was, with greed being her greatest weakness, always wanting more than she actually deserved, such option would be a last resort. Certainly, there had to be a different way, a better route to take that wouldn’t imply owning that woman a favor. However, it was close to impossible as both the Criswell’s and the Wharton’s shared a common interest, while the Earl had already made his stance. The other option was to ask the lower nobles who had been undoubtedly bought off by Alvin, which would result in nothing but wasted time and resources. There was only one viable route to take: Bradley Trace, the least biased of the lot.
“Send a letter to the Trace’s warning them of my visit this afternoon. Make sure Bradley is present.” He got up and glanced at the trees, recalling Ophelia’s determinative stance, climbing them as if her own life depended on it, a complete survivalist instinct. “In the meantime, send some guards to question the rest of the guests and their servants; I want to read everything with the utmost detail.”
“Your Highness, are you certain you wish to use so many of our men to...” The aide rapidly swallowed down his words and took his leave, knowing his master’s mind had already been made up, being unable to be swayed.
What happened at that party? Rumors of the girl’s bravery circulated the streets like wildfire, how she drank poisoned tea and was lucky enough to survive it, never losing her composure like a true noble lady. Yet, there wasn’t a word regarding Millicia’s accusation or of her sister’s murder attempt. If both were proved to be truthful, Alvin had truly gone to the most expensive and extensive method of burying the truth.
“Anton.” Blake’s voice ran through the room, causing a man to pop up from the furniture’s shadow, courtesy of the ancient relic on his arm. “Go into town and tell me the rumors circulating, especially the ones underground.”
“As you command.” And so, the slimy body of the man sunk into the shadows once again, turning into nothing but a mirage for those who saw it.