For almost an hour, Bradley spoke, explaining everything that had come to pass during that afternoon. How he had been one of the first to arrive at the party and how Amanda, in a fit of jealousy placed a knife at her sister’s throat, right before Ophelia drank the poisoned tea. He mentioned the accusations made by the criminal and how the Duke swiftly dodged them by implying that his older child had been the one behind such wicked deeds.
“So, Lady Ophelia wasn’t lying, her sister truly attempted to kill her...” Blake commented, his fingers massaging his temple as Bradley drank some of the black coffee, hydrating his throat. No matter how the prince saw it, the noble man didn’t appear to be lying, in fact, everything seemed truthful and far more realistic than the made up, mechanical stories everyone else told. “But you said the poison was fatal. How could she have survived?”
“Lady Catherine’s aide appeared with the cure. It was quite the timing I must admit, as if she already knew what was bound to happen that afternoon.”
So, she saved her...? Don’t tell me... Blake’s thoughts were completely scattered, unable to figure out the truth behind everything that had come to pass. Surely that woman couldn’t be that interested in a mere girl - or could she? Maybe she even knew more than she led to believe, all because her greed kept her secrets at bay. That bloody woman...!
“So, what will you do now that you know the truth, Your Highness?” Bradley questioned, his icy gaze focused on the man before him, clearly measuring his resolve. This was no mere casual conversation anymore; this was how the noble analyzed a threat or found a foe, never anything in between.
Of course, Duke Criswell had done his utmost to baffle the rumors, hoping to hide it under the rug yet, with so many witnesses, one was bound to come clean. Both the Earl and the Duke had tried their best to cool the damages done, especially to Amanda’s reputation in which they both relied.
Bribed men tell no tales, is it... Understanding the royal court had been made a fool of, a pained chuckle escaped his lips. Ophelia had been right all along, and he was nothing more than a mere puppet, being played around by the nobles in their small theatrical displays.
“Do you have any proof to support your claims?” Blake questioned, knowing full well the nobles would fight back if such matter came to light.
“I saw it with my own two eyes. Lady Amanda switched the cups purposely.” A blunt lie in the middle of a pile of truth was easy to not be discovered as it hadn’t been his fiancé but her father who had committed such an atrocious act. Yet, it was far easier to annul the engagement by striking the weaker link, by irking the jealous woman who always made a fuss wherever she went.
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“You’re certain Millicia was following Lady Amanda’s orders?”
“She bit off her tongue before we were able to ask.” Bradley’s fingers grabbed a scone and broke it in half, swallowing it in almost one go. “As you can see, both of them are culprit of this crime.”
“Lord Bradley, isn’t Amanda Criswell your fiancé?”
At that moment, the noble man’s emerald eyes connected with the prince’s, causing a grand silence to settle in the room. No words were spoken for some seconds, as tension slowly built itself up, knowing full well such question was far from innocent. “Indeed, she is but I mustn’t let such injustice come to pass. How could I live with myself?”
Another lie, however, these words were so forced that even the dumbest of men were able to catch its intentions. Blake merely observed his host, as he finished eating one of the deserts on the table without a care in the world. Surely this man didn’t care about the fate of a commoner as he only spoke the truth when a single name popped up: Ophelia Criswell.
“Did you witness Millicia placing poison in the tea?”
“I did not but she admitted it publicly. ‘It was Duke Criswell’s orders,’ or something of the sorts.” Bradley delivers the prince a cold smile and a sharp gaze, feeling his hospitality running dry. “I think you have more than enough evidence to work with, don’t you agree, Your Highness?”
“Certainly.” Blake got up and his host followed as their hands connected in a rather intense handshake. “Thank you for your assistance, Lord Bradley.”
As the prince was heading towards the door, preparing himself to leave this dreaded estate, the noble’s words rung through the room. “I must question though. Why are you personally investigating this matter after the trial has been held?”
“Lady Ophelia came to the palace today morning with a letter from the Earl, he had dropped his claim. I had no choice but to investigate the matter further.” The Crown Prince tried to maintain neutral ground, even though he knew such reality was nothing but a pile of forced lies.
“Surely a man as busy as yourself could’ve send a servant to take care of the investigation.” Somehow, the environment had grown heavy, tenser to the point the air became like a shallow pond, unable to freely swim on. “I’m merely curious to understand the reasoning behind this. The Crown Prince personally helping a young maiden when for years he’s shown no interest in the opposite gender.”
“Just like the others, Ophelia Criswell is my subject.”
“So, if any one of your subjects requested, you’d also go to such extensive lengths to lend a hand?” Silence followed Bradley’s question, as both men glared at each other, understanding their casual relationship had come to an end before even beginning. “Well, I’m relieved to see how concerned for your subjects Your Highness is.”
And Blake exited the room, closing the door on his way out as he knew starting a war with the Trace’s was something that couldn’t come to be, at least not until his power had solidified enough to contest all the wrong doings these wretched nobles were committing. Simultaneously, Bradley stood in the room, his gaze falling on the entrance as his mind pictured back the prince’s expression as he spoke of her, of the one woman his heart yearned for. It seemed Ophelia had been busy, stealing the hearts of more man than she accounted for.