Page 8 of Cursed By Gold

"I heard that Lord Gouten was looking for a new bride," she says, standing up. "He makes 50,000 a year so I imagine his bride price would be quite the sum."

So that’s it. We’re back to my least favorite game of what is the worst possible husband we can tie Scarlet to.

"Oh yes," Petunia's giggle holds a wicked tone, "You would be a perfect match for him. I've always thought of you as having an 'old soul'."

Of course, my stepmother would think a man with only one eye and a severe case of gout who was near his deathbed was a good fit. She has blown through all of my family's money after my father's death, so she only sees her own profit from such a marriage.

"How about Lord Greystone. He's quite charming, don't you think?" Starla adds, giggling so hard that her tea spills when shesnorts. "He will inherit, and I'm sure could offer a large bride price for someone... even someone as humble in appearance as you."

Lord Greystone is at least much younger. He is also known to spend the majority of his days in the brothels gambling his family's money away. Soon they will be in a worse situation than my own family. When I inherit this home, if he’s my husband it would probably be sold to pay of his debts immediately. Much better to stay single than marry a useless man like that.

It's not like they would ever consider these men as their own marriage options. Only I am lowly enough to be considered a good fit.

"Scarlet, you are quite the bore," my stepmother says.. "Leave my sight and clean the carriage. We will head to the market for lunch. I'm in the mood for some new ribbons."

I nod mutely, my stomach twisting itself into knots. Without another word, I take my leave as their shrill laughter pursues me down the hall.

Blinking back tears, I steel my resolve and continue putting one foot in front of the other. Their cruelty cannot break me, for I have a higher purpose.

Stepping outside into the bracing morning air, I try to calm myself down - no matter how difficult they try to make my days, I will persevere. I must, if I hold any hope of saving this house and legacy. With that truth ringing in my mind, I get to work cleaning the carriage, focused on the task at hand. My future depends on it.

The Market

Scarlet

The scent of spices and baked goods fills the market, making my mouth water. I had been so busy that I forgot to grab any food for myself before we left.

I trail behind my stepmother and stepsisters as they flit from stall to stall, cooing over frivolous hats and garments. My arms ache from the pile of boxes and packages they continue to add to my load. We will need a second carriage at this rate. I bite my tongue to refrain from complaining.

A flash of royal blue catches my eye. A man in an embroidered tunic heads purposefully to the central bulletin board, parchment in hand. My pulse quickens - could it be a warrant with my face? No, I was wearing a mask. The king didn’t see my face. Holding my breath, I edge closer, packages teetering.

The man tacks up the parchment and walks away. Letting out a relieved sigh, I step fully into view and read the elegant script: An announcement of a royal masquerade at the palace. My heart flutters as I imagine the glamour and mystery. I chose to ignorethe voice of warning in my head that asks why the king who normally stays shut away is suddenly holding an event?

My stepmother and stepsisters have wandered over and are giving the announcement their own examination. Starla looks particularly intrigued, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Oh, a masquerade!” she exclaims. “Can we go?”

“It’s a great opportunity for the two of you,” my stepmother says, nodding at my stepsisters. “Perhaps you can even catch the eye of the king.”

Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as she looks around the room, expecting agreement from everyone. Petunia and Starla giggle together as they immediately start looking for the most sumptuous fabric and ribbons to make new dresses for the event.

I sigh, feeling my shoulders grow heavy at the prospect of another event that requires purchasing a new outfit and learning a new set of dance steps. Of course, I wouldn’t be going. Not only would stepmother never allow it, but I also need to stay as far away as possible until we figure out how to get the crown. A night where there would be extra guards is not it.

But I can’t deny the thrill of anticipation that surges through me as I imagine what the masquerade would be like. As I turn away from the bulletin board, I catch sight of a masked man watching me from across the market. He is tall and lean, with piercing blue eyes that seem to look right through me. Dressed all in black, his clothes tailored perfectly to his form. Lucius.

Is he here for me? Probably not. The guild is large and they have many missions going on constantly. This is probably just a fluke.

Just as I am about to turn away, he steps forward, approaching me with purpose.

“Excuse me, miss,” he says, his voice deep and smooth. “I think you may have dropped this.”

A small note slips into my hand, and I blink, surprised that Fairy Godmother has contacted me in the open like this. “Yes, thank you,” I reply.

With a wink and a smirk Lucius walks away leaving me alone. I shift the packages I carry and read the note.

Come see me at Herlads. We need to talk.

F.G.

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