「Ophelia’s POV 」

「The day of the Ball 」

“Milady you can’t possibly be thinking of...!” noticing my cold glare, Ivy bites down her lip.

“I wish to wear that dress,” my hand points to a cheap piece of clothing hanging on the wooden closet, “Take it out.”

Her eyes were unsure of the meaning behind my words and thus, the environment had grown to be filled with uncertainty. The maids traded glances between one another, wondering why would the daughter of the Duke take a simple and unfit dress to such a grand event.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” after hearing my voice once again, Ivy turns her heels and heads towards the closet. Everyone else turned into a small duck within the Frosting, silent and unexistent.

Olivia approaches me with her large and welcoming smile before grabbing some cosmetic items that were stationed carefully around the table. Gently, her fingers picked up a soft brush, leading it straight to my pale cheeks.

“Milady,” as my face was being taken care of, Alphy appears carrying several heavy wooden boxes with precious items inside, “Which one would you like to use?”

“This one,” I point towards a simple necklace with a small lime-colored jewel in the middle.

“Shouldn’t you use this one? It will contrast with the simplicity of the dress and...!” Ivy points towards an extremely luxurious necklace, with a beautiful emerald in the middle.

‘Ah...’ this necklace was a gift from my father to Amanda and, after throwing a tantrum due to the emerald’s color, it was passed onto me, ‘The recycled trash...’

I despised this necklace. Besides being extremely heavy, it was also uncomfortable and so large that my neck would feel burdened. This was the type of jewel that could swallow you whole, shifting the attention of all the eyes around to its luxury while blurring out the wearer.

“Shouldn’t you do your job?” I question Ivy harshly, making her shudder in place.

“Yes milady...” frustrated, Ivy turns around once again and heads towards the dress once again. Her eyes were sad as if she had been deeply wounded.

Olivia’s hands touching my hair gently, while the comb moves downwards carefully. She was delighted to have been given this honor but, on the back of the mirror standing in front of me, I could see the heavy environment between the maids.

“Just imagine going against the lady like that...” one of the maids' whispers in the background before a soft giggle is heard.

“I never thought that the Wharton’s accepted stupid people,” another one comments as her hands fix the bedsheets.

My remark towards Ivy made some gossip and chuckles travel through the air, making her become the fool that had fought a losing battle. Of course, this was all her doing, she shouldn’t intervene in my choices since she is nothing but a mere puppet to serve my needs and desires.

“You must have a lot of guts,” I declare loudly while looking at them from the reflection in the mirror, “Speaking ill of other colleagues in front of your master.”

“I’m sorry milady!” the two maids quickly rush to the center of the room and bow on the floor.

“Don’t let me see your faces again,” my light crystal eyes glare at them, coldly and heartlessly. Acknowledging the fear in their bodies, they both rush out of the room without a second thought.

As Olivia finished braiding my hair, I glanced over at Ivy who was looking at me from the corner of the room. Her lips were carrying a slight smile as if she was happy with the decision I had made.

‘... Strange,’ I thought as I observed her closely.

As the sun began to set on the warm horizon, everything was ready.

‘This has to work...!’ my body was walking down the stairs gracefully and suddenly, my eyes meet Jade.

“Master... Be careful, if anything happens...” I place a finger on top of his lips, making his cheeks blush slightly.

“I’ll be fine,” I comment before opening the front door.

‘He’s worried,’ this was inevitable. Royal balls were only available for nobles, thus, no commoner was allowed entry unless they were already working at the palace.

The orange sky was becoming darker and so was my determination, wavering with every step I took.

“Milady, your ride,” a butler opens the door of a majestic and luxurious carriage.

Swiftly I get inside and soon after I hear the sound of horses galloping on the dry dirt. Contrary to all the other balls, I needed to ride in a separate carriage since I was not yet a Wharton.

It was not long to see the night stars appear, alongside the beautiful Blistering full moon. The large fields had been consumed by darkness, making it hard to find anything to relax my thoughts.

‘She’ll be though...’ ever since I had left the Wharton’s estate, my brain had found within itself to torment me even further.

Possible scenarios of my interaction with the one and only Vivian Evans were running through my mind. I had no idea why she had invited me personally and I didn’t know when she would make her move.

Just like in chess, you never know where the Queen will move since she can go to every house possible. She is the most powerful variable and instability a person can have in their board.

‘Damn...!’ I could feel my muscles tighten strongly as nerves flew through my veins. The small thought of meeting that woman made me scared to the bones.

“Will I be able to...?” in a pitiful attempt to regain control of my body I begin mumbling to myself.

I know I can’t make a mistake and get on Vivian’s poor side otherwise, everything I have been so hard trying to avoid will flash back to me, like thunder in a middle of a storm.

‘Ah...!’ a small bounce is felt and the carriage stops. We had arrived at our destination.

“I can’t do this...!” my hands began trembling as I remembered how fear felt.

I wasn’t scared of Vivian Evans herself, I was scared of what she represented. If she disliked me, I would never be able to remain alone since she would glue me to some old noble from a forgotten house, however, if she liked me, I would never be able to escape her claws.

Everyone knows this truth and thus, no woman dares to befriend the queen without embracing these consequences.

‘I can’t...!’ as the doorknob was begging to turn, everything crumbled down upon me. The harsh reality of not being able to control something was terrifying, ‘I...’

“Have to do this,” I quickly grab both of my hands and sit straight. A bright light enters the carriage as the butler opens the door.

“Milady,” he extends his hand and I grab it, before walking down the small steps.

My eyes are greeted by the luxurious palace grounds. Everything was bright, making the beautiful stars in the sky, cower in shame. In front of me, were Edgar and Mace, talking happily while awaiting my arrival.

Even if I was scared, I couldn’t give up. I had achieved too many things to turn back now.

‘I won’t let you ruin my lazy and luxurious life,’ I grin realizing that my determination had finally returned to me, ‘You’ll see...’

“I won’t go down without biting a chunk out of you,” as I headed towards the Wharton’s, I mumbled down some words of reassurance.

✽✼✽✼✽✼✽

As Ophelia walks down the steps of the luxurious and heavy carriage, Edgar’s expression turned sour while Mace observed her, astonished by the view in front of his eyes. The Duke was extremely displeased, glaring at her from top to bottom, yet, he remained silent.

‘So that’s your plan...?’ Mace furrows his brows while piecing the puzzle pieces together, ‘Smart Ophelia, very smart...’

“Father,” she gracefully bows down, taking the initiative to begin a conversation.

“You could've asked for money if you needed dear...” softening his expression after a couple of minutes, Edgar intervenes. Much to their surprise, the young girl only painfully smiles, leaving doubts wandering in the air.

‘He cut her off... How can he call himself a father!’ Edgar clenches his fists while Ophelia carefully straightens the hem of her dress before walking towards Mace.

“Aren’t you afraid that the queen will see this as insubordination?” he mumbles while his father was drowning in his own thoughts.

“Isn’t insubordination and lack of money the two sides of the same coin?” she grins coldly, “I’m sure even you know that... Mace.”

‘Does she...?’ at her words, his body freezes and his heart begins pounding loudly. He didn’t know if she was aware of some of his plans of overthrowing Terrel’s reign in the Wharton’s.

“Come, my dear,” the Duke approaches them after settling down his thoughts. His hand is stretched and Ophelia’s eyes widen in shock.

‘This is...?’ her expression displayed her surprise. This simple yet important action was something she hadn’t foreseen in any of her scenarios.

In Ashen, the head of the house is only allowed to escort their promised one, whether a wife or fiancée and his daughter on her debutante ball. Ophelia is not related by blood to the Wharton’s thus, she doesn’t belong to their family tree, yet Edgar is ready to acknowledge her as his daughter, going against one of Ashen’s oldest traditions.

‘Is he trying to...?’ her mind was confused but, even then, her gut pointed into one specific direction. This was a warning to all the other noble houses, ‘If you mess with me, you mess with the Wharton’s, is it...?’

As this happened, Mace stood by the sidelines, observing a faint smile appear on Ophelia’s lips. His frail human heart was, for a glimpse of a second, tainted by a thin line of jealousy since he wished to be the one to escort her inside.

✽✼✽✼✽✼✽

“I present you Duke Edgar Wharton and his son Lord Mace Wharton,” a loud and high voice speaks and, just like magic, the ballroom becomes quiet. As if they were in syntony, the noble’s attention shifts to the top of the tall stairs while their eyes glared intensely at the upcoming display of events.

“I present you, Lady Ophelia Criswell,” once her name echoed through the halls, a soft breeze entered from the balcony windows, making everyone’s body shiver in excitement. The main piece of this museum had just arrived.

‘What a deja-vú,’ Ophelia wonders as she notices the bewitched nobles, observing her quietly as Duke Wharton escorted her towards the center of the ballroom, ‘Even though...’

She glances over at Edgar who was walking slowly down the stairs with a dignified posture, without any regret for his actions. He looked like a man filled with determination ready to grab all his ambitions, scary and powerful.

On the other hand, she also knew this scenario had been nothing more than her fault. Embracing her body was a long, dark, and simple emerald dress, and a beautiful yet small light green necklace embracing her neck. Contrary to the other maidens, Ophelia’s dress was similar to those of a Baron’s child, the typical cheap fabric trying to be luxurious.

Even then her beauty was unmatched, making all the hearts flutter with nothing more than a simple glare from her light crystal eyes.

Without understanding this sudden behavior and wardrobe choice, gossip began to be born within the present nobles. A soft melody of whispers embraced the ball as they gracefully walked down the stairs. Questions kept on echoing inside their souls.

‘Why is she being escorted by the Duke?’ the men wondered.

‘Why is she wearing such shabby attire?’ the women thought.

But those were just trivial questions that disappeared after some minutes since the real doubt remained. The question that everyone deeply wanted an answer to. The variable that made their soul become so tainted by the desire for knowledge that they hired spies to learn it.

Who exactly is Ophelia Criswell?

When the maid was released from prison everyone began to wonder who had been the gracious benefactor and the shock was even greater once they learned the actual truth.

‘There’s no way...’ everyone’s thoughts were the same. Ophelia Criswell would never free the person who tried to murder her but, after investigating the matter further, they all understood how far-fetched their conclusions had been.

Ophelia was not a normal noble, that was clear as day but then, who was she?

The ones that wanted to gain her favor didn’t know her ambitions and the ones who despised her couldn’t find her weaknesses. Even then, one thing was true to all, men and women, whenever Ophelia Criswell entered a room, the whole environment would change.

Just like the tides shift depending on the time of the day, so did the social gatherings with her presence. All the glares would be focused on her, all the gossips would be about her and all the lustful desires one had in their mind would have her face and body.

No matter who tried to deny it, she was what every noble most wanted: a beautiful mystery filled with the incredible pleasure of entertainment. And thus, even now, there was not a single soul who was able to look away from her presence. No matter how shabby her clothing was, or who was walking by her side, everyone lustfully wanted her.

Ophelia Criswell, the cursed child that had been neglected since birth was a hidden gem filled with confliction: she was, simultaneously, a saint and a devil, healing broken hearts while luring them into the abyss of their own doom.