Escaping Her Curse—Completed

Chapter Twenty-Five

Grinning into her teacup, Lady Christine took a small and dainty sip. She swallowed the liquid, savoring the flavor. This had become her new favorite tea. She didn’t even know the name, but it tasted like victory. Mandy mirrored the sinister smile of her mistress, pleased to hear the events unfold.

It was the talk of the palace that morning through the afternoon. Miss Jessie Montgomery had vanished into thin air. Some were saying that the prince went into a rage, while others claimed that he bawled like a little girl when she didn’t show up for work. It didn’t matter to Lady Christine or Mandy because she was gone. They didn’t care how. She had been a thorn in their sides for far too long. Mandy was running out of non-lethal poisons for her mistress to take. She hadn’t anticipated Jessie to investigate so thoroughly, and if it hadn’t been for her informant in the magic department, then they never would have known that Jessie had been looking into the poisons. He had been able to fudge the results just enough to stump the woman, but not enough to give her a satisfactory answer to leave them alone. It had bothered Mandy that Jessie had been able to see through their motives so easily and persuade the prince to stay away from Christine. She hadn’t worked this hard to not see results. Christine needed to marry the prince. End of story.

“Have you heard anything new?” Christine asked.

“Not yet. But I’m sure more of the story will come forth as the day continues. I’m positive that the nobles will spin something. I mean, she ran out on a baron. That’s no small thing, especially since she was under his station and under the care of the king.”

“Yes, and they just became engaged too. What a waste my lessons were,” Christine mused into her cup.

“Oh my lady, what a saint you were for putting up with her nonsense. You took all that time out of your day to help her, and how does she repay you?” Mandy tsked.

Christine stared out at the garden for a few minutes, though everything was still rather wet from the downpour they’d received the previous day.

“Do you think the prince will join me as I’ve asked,” she then questioned absently, her eyes lingering on the flowers.

“Why would he not?”

“Well, if he really is taking her departure poorly, then he may not want to see me. Though,” Christine paused to turn her attention to her maid and grin wickedly. “He is now my fiance, isn’t he? The timing couldn’t have been better, even if I’d planned it myself.”

Mandy chuckled. “The king is a generous man and knows what’s best for his son. Prince Oliver will do what’s right for the kingdom. He will accept you and marry you, and you will produce the most perfect heir.”

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

Christine’s eyes were then drawn to a lone figure walking towards them. Her smile grew wider as she recognized the blonde hair and gait of the prince. He did look rather solemn, no mirth in his demeanor. She rose from her seat and curtsied to the prince.

“Your Highness,” she purred. “It is a pleasure for you to join me for tea. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it, but I am very pleased to see that you’ve chosen to accompany me.”

Oliver nodded, his eyes distant. “It is my duty,” he then replied curtly.

“Tell me, how are you faring? I know things are…delicate, right now. But, I want you to know that I’m here for you. Always. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you, but that isn’t necessary. I’ll manage on my own.”

“Oh, uh, of course,” Christine stumbled, flashing a smile to save herself. “You are very strong, and even this will be a small blimp in hindsight.”

“Sure.”

She swallowed uncomfortably, exchanging a worried glance with Mandy. “Do you wish to talk?”

“You can.”

“What would you like to hear? I have a rather wide knowledge of most things. I wouldn’t want to bore you with women’s conversation,” she laughed, attempting to liven up the mood.

Oliver was silent for a while, staring off into the distance. Christine could read that he wasn’t mentally present with her, which only served to sour her good mood. She surmised that he was thinking about a certain personal assistant instead of his fiance.

“I was delighted with the proposal, Your Highness. I was starting to give up hope, but then my father sent word that he’d received a royal letter and proposal. We, of course, accepted immediately. The thought of being married to you brings me such immense joy. I cannot wait to carry your heir, naturally,” she said almost flippantly.

His eyes flashed with anger at her, which she wasn’t expecting. A shiver crawled down her back, and she felt cold.

“My father has decided to move forward with a plan I had no intention of carrying out. I think we’re done here, Lady Christine. Excuse me,” Oliver said abruptly.

As he got up, the chair screeched behind him, and he left in a huff, making Christine and Mandy share an anxious look. That had not been the response they were hoping for; however, it didn’t change the fact that she would marry him.

Oliver balled his fists in rage as he stomped back into the palace to his office. The audacity of his father, and then of Christine to bring up such a topic. His father had lovingly told him the news at breakfast that morning when he’d bombarded his solitude. He had already been in a horrible mood after Jessie hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t thought that she’d leave. He had assumed she’d come back to him, begging for forgiveness, and asking for her job to be reinstated. He hadn’t actually wanted to accept her resignation. He had agreed only because he’d been upset. And now, he was kicking himself for letting his anger get out of hand. He’d chased off the woman he loved and was being forced to marry another he detested.

“M’lord,” a servant called to him as he opened his office door.

“What?” he asked gruffly.

“Th–this was found in your assistant’s old room. It’s addressed to you.”

Oliver grabbed the proffered letter out of the servant’s hand and dismissed him. His entire body felt numb. She had left him a letter. For him to read, once she knew she was safely away, no doubt.

The letter both burned his hand and made him feel sick all at once. He wanted to rip it open and read every word at the same time as just throwing it into the fire. Hadn’t she said everything she’d wanted to the day before? Hadn’t she tormented him enough? And now, she left him one last morsel of hope.

Sighing, Oliver sat heavily into his chair, gently tossing the letter onto his desk. He stared at it. Nothing else mattered in that moment except that she was gone and, now, this unopened letter sat on his desk. He didn’t even notice Simon coming into the office and sit down in front of him.

“Okay, mopey. Guess you’re not doing well,” Simon said, attempting to cheer Oliver up with sarcastic humor.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“I can see that. What are you staring at?” Simon asked, scanning the desk until he saw the letter. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to open it?”

“I don’t know.”

Simon grabbed the letter, causing Oliver to stand up hastily and snatch it from his hands.

“Hey!” Simon called out.

“It’s addressed to me. Not you.”

“So!”

Oliver frowned and looked over at Simon. “Wait, did she–did she leave one for you, too?”

“No,” Simon replied sullenly.

Strangely enough, that made Oliver feel much better. Perhaps there really had been nothing going on between the two, and he had just imagined it.

“Well?” Simon then asked impatiently. “Either you open it and read it aloud or I will.”

“Fine,” Oliver conceded.

He looked at the top of the letter, where it read, “To: Prince Oliver” in big swoopy letters. Turning it over, he slid a finger under the wax seal, breaking it, and lifted the lip of the envelope. Feeling his mouth grow dry, he fumbled to pull the sheet of paper out and open it. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and calm his racing heart, he read silently,

“Oh my dear Oliver,

I shall be very candid in this note, for I feel as though I can. Our last interaction left me feeling broken beyond repair. Though we each said vile things to one another, know that I did not leave due to this. I know you were hurt and upset with me. I know that my sins far outweigh your own. I shall not hold them against you, but I shall carry the burden of guilt I feel for what I said to you. There is so much I would like to say, and yet, when I sit here, my mind goes blank.

You have been my solace for these last months, and I am so grateful to you for it. You have healed a part of me that I wasn’t even aware was hurting. So, thank you for that. Thank you for being my bright spot in an otherwise dreary life. I shall always cherish our time together. Take care of yourself and Simon and know that I will always be your biggest fan and greatest supporter wherever I go.

Lovingly, Jessie”

Oliver felt all the blood drain out of his face. He stared at her words. And her letter. At nothing at all.

“What? What’s going on? Why are you making that face? What did she say?” Simon questioned, confusion evident on his face.

Oliver quickly read the letter again. And again. And again. Each time, the same question popped into his mind. Each time, he saw her face saying those words to him. He let the letter fall out of his hands and onto the desk, where Simon greedily picked it up to read it.

“I don’t get it. What’s going on, Oliver? Nothing in this letter warrants this type of behavior.”

Oliver only shook his head at his friend. Disbelief written all over his face. Finally, after minutes of Oliver mumbling quotes from the letter to himself, Simon grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

“What is happening?” Simon said, emphasizing each word and getting into Oliver’s face in order to make the prince look directly at him.

“It was her all along. That explains everything. Jessie is Everlyn.”