Escaping Her Curse—Completed

Chapter Ten

The mood of the room had undeniably shifted the moment Jessie walked in, was introduced, and sat in her assigned seat in the corner. Though she did her best to focus on scribbling on her pad of paper, she could feel the stares and questions from the noblemen.

Thankfully, Oliver cleared his throat loudly enough to regain their full attention.

“Yes, I know. Jessie is a novelty, but her presence will soon wear off. She is to be my shadow from now on, so get used to seeing her everywhere I am. She will soon fade into the background. Do not fret,” the prince declared.

There were only a few murmurs before the meeting officially began, and Jessie did her best to not let the prince’s word affect her too much.

Oliver took his seat. “Alright. Bring me up to speed. Where are we at?”

The room was silent momentarily before one noble stood up and began, “Things are looking up, Your Highness. The King was rather receptive to my proposal.”

“Please remind us what that was, Baron Carter,” Oliver replied.

With a quick head bow, Baron Carter said, “Of course, Your Majesty. The royal magicians have been toying with one of the Ancient’s Artifacts. It was found many months ago, and they are no closer to understanding it, even with the scholar’s help, than when they started. Now, my proposition is to borrow upon the Ancient’s forbidden knowledge in order to figure out what it could be. However, only the King has access to such knowledge, unless he gives permission to another. And–”

“Do you happen to know what the Artifact is, m’lord?” Jessie piped up.

Her voice was just as soft and gentle as ever, yet in it was a strength and confidence Oliver hadn’t heard before.

All eyes turned in her direction once more. Baron Carter’s face began turning red.

“How dare that insolent wench interrupt a noble when addressing the Prince!” he shouted, finger pointed at Jessie.

Oliver glanced back at Jessie, who held her quill poised in the air, as if waiting for the answer.

“I think it is a valid question, Baron. I, too, would like to know what it is they have found,” Oliver stated, arms crossed over his chest.

Slowly drawing his hand back to his side, Baron Carter fussed with his papers, seemingly caught off guard by the reply.

“It’s, uh, Sire…” he sputtered.

“They have yet to give it a name, Your Majesty,” Viscount Branson offered the room. “I could do my best to describe it to you, if you’d like.”

Oliver turned silently to look at Jessie, who eagerly nodded.

Viscount Branson arose, then, once Baron Carter sat angrily in his seat. He then cleared his throat and began, “They say it is grey in color and is made of the stronger materials we’ve found in most of the large buildings that remain. They found that it could open, revealing a large pocket where several people could fit easily inside. On one side was a panel of sorts with tens of buttons that were numbered. Cords were attached to the top and bottom of the, well, rectangle of metal, for lack of a better name. They have not been able to discover the function of such a thing, yet, though, Your, uh,” he paused and glanced at Jessie, who had been taking vigorous notes. “Highness,” he finished.

“That is quite interesting,” Oliver grinned.

“Yes! It is,” Jessie exclaimed, lost in the possibilities of what it could be. “And it dates all the way back to the Destroyed Era?”

“Yes,” Viscount Branson said stiffly.

“How can you tell?”

The viscount shuffled his papers before answering Jessie directly, “The year was printed on the machine. Well, at least, we think it was a machine. It read 1977.”

“Wow!” Jessie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “That’s well over 500 years ago. I can’t believe something lasted that long!”

“Well, the metal is strong, and other records indicate that it was chosen purposely to withstand the test of time,” Viscount Branson said, losing some of his stiff demeanor.

He even flashed the assistant a small smile.

“How much from the Destroyed Era have you seen?” he then asked.

Jessie frowned, holding the quill just under her chin. “Not much. I was under Duke Laroche’s care before here, and he wasn’t interested in magical devices as he was in the magicians themselves. He only dedicated a small sum to the archaeology around his duchy.”

“What a shame, and a waste,” Viscount Branson replied.

“Yes, I tried to encourage him to do more, but–”

Baron Carter coughed loudly. “Weren’t you just a maid under Duke Laroche’s care? How would a maid encourage the Duke to do anything? Unless, you’re implying that you were more to him.”

“Baron Carter,” Oliver spat aggressively across the table. “That behavior is beneath you. How dare you insinuate that my personal assistant would sleep with her employer for a higher status. Does that then imply that she is currently sleeping with me?”

The baron’s eyes grew wide in terror. He saw the error he had made when attacking Jessie. He had not meant to attack the prince himself.

“I–of course not…Your Highness,” Baron Carter stammered. “I’d never–”

“Seems like you already did,” Olver shot back.

“I deeply apologize for my egregious error. Please, Your Majesty, forgive your lowly servant.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow and said, “Not only did you insult your Prince, but you also insulted my assistant. Apologize to her, and this shall all be forgotten.”

“To her, as well? A maid?”

“Am I to repeat myself, Baron Carter?”

“Certainly not, Sire,” he said, then turning his glowering head towards Jessie, who was waiting patiently. “I apologize, personal assistant to the Prince for insinuating rumors about your station.”

Jessie gave her most winning and gracious smile. “I’m sure you made such a comment without thinking. It happens to the best of us,” she replied.

“Shall we continue then?” Oliver asked the group, bringing the meeting back to the topic at hand.

Time flew for Jessie as the meeting progressed. She did her best to capture all that was said, and went through several pages and an entire vial of ink. Making a mental note to bring extra ink with her next time, she was almost sad when Oliver announced the meeting had adjourned.

Packing up her things, she quickly followed the Prince as he made his way back to his office. Once the door was shut and he was comfortably sitting in his chair at his desk, he gave Jessie a questioning look.

“Well?” he asked when she didn’t immediately respond.

Jessie only shook her head, speechless, before finally saying, “There's just so much I didn’t know!”

“What do you mean?”

She chuckled, “Not everyone received a royal education, m’lord.”

Oliver folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair as he smiled at her to continue.

“The general public knows very little about the Destroyed Era. In fact, I’d even say that the commoners have completely forgotten about the past. They live their lives day to day. They don’t have time to reminisce or search for Artifacts and learn about the Ancients.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

“I’d love to learn more about it all. More about the Artifacts, more about magic, more about whatever I can get my hands on!”

Oliver nodded slowly. “Why?”

“It’s interesting,” she laughed.

“There is no other motive?”

“How could there be? Learning about magic is a crime punishable by death. Only in the royal castle or by the seal of the king can you get permission to even dig up such things. Who wouldn’t want to learn when it’s accessible to them? I mean, I know your father fears repeating history, but there is so much we could learn from the people before us. It cannot be all bad.”

Oliver studied her. She had become animated as she spoke, using her hands to gesture here and there, and her face, which had been so passive at the beginning, was practically beaming.

“How did you learn about the Destroyed Era? You said you didn’t receive a royal education, and yet, that term is only used here in the palace.”

For a moment, Jessie panicked. She hadn’t realized.

“I, uh, picked it up from the meeting. It was the only term used, so I just assumed. Was I incorrect?” she quickly said.

“Ah yes, you’re right,” Oliver agreed, making a mental note of her now relieved facial expression.

This woman–this former maid–was truly an enigma. Oliver couldn’t figure out why she intrigued him so much, just that she did. She seemed far more schooled than she let on, and held herself with such poise and grace, almost like a–

He shook his head and clapped his hands together.

“After that insanely long meeting, I believe that we’ve earned ourselves some lunch,” he stated.

“I couldn’t agree more. Now, how do I fetch it for you?” Jessie asked.

Oliver frowned. “Getting it for me? What do you mean?”

“As your assistant, won’t I be getting your meals for you as well? It only makes sense for me to do such a task.”

“Jessie,” he grinned at her. “You’re going to be my personal assistant, not my personal maid.”

She looked at him with a confused expression.

“You’ll be dining with me.”

“How does that make sense? Besides, I thought I was dining with you for dinner, not lunch.”

“As my assistant, I declare that you’ll dine with me for both,” Oliver smiled back.

“I’m not your assistant until tomorrow, though.”

Laughing, Oliver was at a loss for words. “Then, as a favor, dine with me for both.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“When it’s just you and me, Jessie, just call me Oliver.”