By using my sister’s unwavering pride at its fullest, the meeting with the Duke had been assured but, even considering me a threat, he remained quiet, unmovable. A week had passed, but nothing had changed. I was still stuck in this dreadful mansion.

   Why!? My nails tapped on the top of the wooden desk repeatedly as rampaging thoughts tried to make sense of the situation. Why isn’t he sending me away?

   Frustration gathered in me realizing things were not as easy as I thought they would be. He needed to be pushed further, seeing how my presence in this house was but a vivid menace to his plans, not just a conceptual bump in the road.

   After setting the necessary scenarios, and seeing how each candidate fared, he decided, prior to my 15^th birthday, that the Wharton’s were indeed the best choice - probably because of their vast territory in the North. The Duke was a very cautious man, taking into consideration every step he took. He wouldn’t be persuaded by some idle hostile words. He needed to realize how much he could lose if I stayed.

   Knowing that he hadn’t summoned me to his study meant that he considered sending me off so soon unnecessary, extra measures needed to be taken. He didn’t think of me as a problem, even though he was well aware of how much I knew and how easily such knowledge could ruin his thought-out plans. Surely, he thought my words would mean nothing since he saw me as a useless curse, taking the filthy body of his daughter. But he forgot quite a simple thing. When one was a ghost, one would become a shadow, freely wandering around without having its presence noticed. Today I overheard the loud maids, who were extremely excited about a certain upcoming visit. And isn’t that quite convenient?

   Bradley Trace. Amanda’s fiancé.

   An extremely rich man, both in looks and monetarily. I’d seen him a couple of times in my other lives, however, it was always after his marriage. At some point, the thought of becoming his wife passed by, hoping it would change the awful, predestined ending, but something about him made me feel unsteady, as if he was far more dangerous than led others to believe.

   His father, Carlyle Trace, was a shady man with several sketchy businesses. If I intended to live a carefree life, being involved with that type of family would only bring future problems and, truthfully, my patience was growing thinner by the day. Getting myself in conflict with the royal family and other high-ranking nobles because of someone else’s dirt was not my cup of tea.

   After getting dressed in simple clothing, I exited my chambers and headed towards the south gardens to catch a little of the morning sunlight, however, as my body prepared itself to drop its weight onto the chair, something rattled between the wild bushes.

   Curiosity got the best of me. My fingers brushed off some of the bush’s thick leaves just to disclosure a frail black kitten with a deep wound on his little front paw. Noticing me, he swiftly tried to back away, wheezing in discontent and fear of the unknown.

   “I’m not going to hurt you.” I said in a low tone, embracing him gently. Of course, being a stray, he hated my touch. His body squirmed, he meowed loudly, and his thick claws scratched my skin repeatedly. “Yes, yes... I know you want to leave, but you might die if I don’t help you.”

   As if he understood my words, he calmed down - probably due to the exhaustion that settled on his frail body. Softly, my hand patted his back. “Look at you... such a good boy.”

   “Excuse me, do you perhaps know where the teahouse is?” A sweet voice rung in my ears causing me to glance back, seeing a beautiful angel in the shape of a man. His light green eyes were calm while gazing me, his golden hair reflected the sun rays and his skin faired even against the purest of the snows.

   Gracefully, I bowed, recognizing the individual straight away. “Lord Bradley, what a surprise meeting you here. I was unaware the Trace’s had such poor etiquette.” A mocking smirk spread across my lips as his eyes ran up and down my body, his brows drawing closer together completely confused.

   Soon enough, his expression turned slightly flustered as a faint hint of blush rested on his cheeks. He understood the mistake he had made. “I’m sorry for the discourtesy, My Lady. May I know your name?” Politely, he bobbed his head, glancing at me with his bright emeralds.

   “Such things are unnecessary... I’m sure our paths won’t meet again.” All he got from me was a cold smile and a rather ungraceful side glance, understanding that this small yet fruitful interaction had served its purpose. “To reach the teahouse, just walk forward. Once you see a big cherry tree, take a turn right. It was an honor meeting you, My Lord.”

   Without giving him any time to reply, I turned around and left toward my chambers. That man made me feel strange, awakening certain instincts which were dormant: he was dangerous, and my deepest gut knew it.

   “Stay still!” I yelled, trying to apply some ointment on the cat’s paw. After several failed attempts of him darting like a bolt throughout the room, my hands finally grabbed him by the chest. A clean bandage surrounded his wound, preventing any bacteria from entering. “If you dare to take that off, I’ll starve you.” With my icy glare, he lowered his head, as if he could actually understand what I said.

   Now me... Gently, my fingers applied ointment on the cuts created by the black fur ball; however, a loud sound suddenly echoed through the room which caused me to drop the product on the floor. Reactively, my gaze fell on the now completely open door.

   “You are truly disgusting, Ophelia. Why were you with Bradley?” Amanda’s loud voice traveled through the quiet area. The maids behind her chuckled, bad-mouthing me with their futile insults.

   Slowly, my figure leaned forward, picking up the ointment case from the floor and placing it on a small wooden table. “My dear sister, I have thought about it, but I cannot seem to find one single reason as to why I should tell you.”

   Her dark blue eyes became filled with anger. “He is my fiancé! I don’t know what you are planning, but you better know your place, or I will make you regret it.” Her hands pushed her curls back, as if she had the upper hand in this matter.

   Amanda’s arrogant and superior attitude always annoyed me, but I had accepted it for the longest time. In fact, the only reason I had put up with it for 15 whole years was merely to gather what lacked: more knowledge. For my plan to work, it was imperative to learn everything about the nobles, especially the high-nobility and time was my greatest ally. Unlucky for her, the ticking of the clock had finally announced the end of the break and the beginning of the second act of such marvelous play.

   I came closer to her, a grin on my lips. “Are you threatening me, sister?” My voice was rather low, making Amanda’s face pale. Shakily, her body backed away. 

   “D-Don’t get too full of yourself...!” Reluctantly, she continued to be stubborn, never backing down even when her gut told her to. “Lanna, teach this wench some manners!”

   Her maids flinched but remained in their place, feet rooted to the ground. No one was stupid enough to touch the cursed child, that was, unless they wished to become cursed beings themselves.

   “M-Milady, that’s...” As Lanna was finishing her sentence, I intervened.

   “You are a beautiful woman, sister, but your manners are lacking.” Strongly, my fingers grabbed her cheeks and pulled her face towards me. She frowned; her eyes widened. “I wonder what I should do to that mischievous tongue of yours?”

   Hearing my words, she shoved the hand away from her and pushed me toward the floor causing me to laugh loudly. Sadly, for her, I kept my balance. “Consider this your last warning, Ophelia!”

   In a hurry, the snakes left, minds filled with doubt and fear forcing a bolt of adrenaline and satisfaction to run through my veins. “Oh Amanda... you’re such a fool.”

   The servants might neglect me, but no one in this house would dare to go against me, to touch the cursed one. Everyone knew that if you got yourself cursed, the gates to God would be closed, making the only available door for the afterlife a very blazing one.

   After shutting the door again, I laid down on the bed. “This girl...”

   My right hand reached my forehead, massaging it slightly.  Behaving like this created a lingering pain in my heart. Maybe it was some stupid remnants of my broken soul’s compassion; however, I froze my silly desires and hopeful wishes long ago. All that remained was an empty, deafening darkness.

   The little girl everyone used and abused was lost, somewhere within the cracks of time, and I didn’t intend to bring her back. Never again, for the rest of my life, would the naïve and kind heroine, caring for the poor, helping the weak, hoping for the best, come back. Instead, I would become the author of this God-forsaken story and burn everything and everyone that could pose a threat to my selfish future to the ground.

   My eyes wandered around to see where the cat had gone, but he was nowhere to be found. “How hilarious would it be... a cursed girl with a black cat... the irony is astonishing.” I mumbled, just to feel a weight on the left side of the bed.

   Tiny and pitch black with vivid red eyes; the kitten was now looking right at me. “You must be hungry.” He approached my arm and rubbed his frail head on it. Surprisingly, he hadn’t run away after Amanda’s childish tantrum. “Alright... I’ll be right back.”