Chapter 33 Braxton
Braxton
I toss the quill down on my desk and lean back, my fingers tugging at the roots of my rumpled hair.
I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that she didn’t have the skeleton key, or that she wouldn’t figure out that it would be able to open the trunk with all of her journals tucked neatly inside.
I curse the day I bought her those journals.
It was before the curse ever took form. She loved writing so much, and I was trying to be a thoughtful, doting husband.
Fucking stupid. I then couldn’t bear to rip them away from her after the curse took shape and she lost her memories.
Fucking stupider. Every time the curse restarted I had no choice but to go in and take away the journals with entries in fear that if she found and read them it would cause her memories to reset again.
But of course, like the sad sap I am, I didn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Fucking stupidest move of all.
A groan rumbles in my chest as I tug at my roots until painful pinpricks fill my scalp.
I was practically begging to get caught, and now I’m reaping the consequences of my actions.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had her in my bedroom before the previous night.
It had to have been the picture incident.
It was centuries ago, when the curse was still fresh and before I had certain rooms barred from anyone entering them. She wandered to this side of the castle and started snooping around until she eventually found our ballroom. It was the same room where we happened to say our vows to each other.
As a gift for our first anniversary, I had a portrait of the two of us on our wedding day painted and hung in that room to forever commemorate it.
When she saw that painting, it was enough to jar a few of her memories free, which led to the barriers in her mind coming down.
That was the first time I saw the true effect of the curse in action, and I had to watch her emotions be slowly shredded to pieces and her soul torn apart as she remembered everything.
It didn’t take as long back then. As the curse has gotten older, it’s taken longer for all of Azalea’s memories to resurface because she starts remembering the past century in the castle first.
After watching her break down and having the curse reset itself for the first time, I tore that picture of us to shreds.
It looked like a wild animal had clawed it to pieces after I was finished with it.
That still has to be one of my biggest regrets to this day.
For fear that I might ruin and taint other aspects of the life we once lived, I locked up that side of the castle and any room that held special importance to mine and Azalea’s past and the truth of who we are.
I want to keep that piece preserved for when I break this curse… If I break this curse.
Slumping back in my chair, I push the heels of my hands against my eyes. Not only do I have to face the fact that Azalea isn’t going to have any recollection of the other night, even though I can still taste her on my tongue, but I also have to start writing her letters from her “fiancé” again.
Finding the right words in the midst of utter defeat has been impossible all morning.
Reaching forward, I crumple the piece of parchment in front of me before tossing it in the waste bin next to my desk.
Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and reminisce about the sound of hearing Azalea cry out my name, of tasting her come all over my tongue.
I push out a frustrated breath. These thoughts have been distracting me all morning and making it particularly impossible to try and come up with a solution to the fact that I only have one more chance to break this curse before everything becomes permanent.
I grab a fresh piece of parchment, readying myself to start over with writing this skyforsaken letter, when I hear a soft knock at the door.
My heartbeat quickens at the hope that it might be Azalea, and I curse the damned organ for thumping so loudly. It’s been particularly active as of late when it’s supposed to be lying dormant in my chest until further notice.
Clearing my throat, I take a deep breath before telling the person on the other end of the door to come in.
To my utter disappointment, I see Gravesley poke his weathered face into my room.
Seriously, he is looking far worse for wear than I’ve ever seen him.
I can’t help but wonder if his sudden aging has anything to do with the weakening of the curse.
My shoulders deflate before I wave him fully into my room.
“Yes, Gravesley?” I ask, returning the piece of paper in front of me.
I begin scribbling the same abysmal response to what Azalea’s first letter to her fake fiancé always is.
It’s always a letter about how she misses me and how no matter what, she will find a way back to me. The irony of it all is palpable.
“Your Highness,” Gravesley croaks. My brows pull together with concern as he clears his throat, the watery sound filling the silence between us. “I think something might be wrong with me. I wanted to request a few days to myself.”
Gravesley has never once asked for a day off. I suddenly realize how fucked up it is that I’ve similarly never given him one. He may not know how long he’s been working here day after day, but I do.
“What’s the matter? Are you ill?” If he’s managed to catch some kind of sickness, who knows what it could do to all of us in the castle after living in isolation for so long? I want to ensure he is nowhere near my Wildflower if he’s sick.
“It…” He hesitates, clearly nervous about admitting the truth of whatever he has to say.
My impatience and concern come to a head, causing me to snap. “Out with it, Gravesley.”
“I’m remembering things. Things that don’t make sense and can’t be real.”
My breath catches, and I sit up straighter.
“Like what?” My voice is tight as I ask my question. My legs immediately become restless in the few seconds it takes Gravesley to respond, and I jump to my feet and begin pacing.
“I remember you… and Azalea…”
My feet stall. “Yes?” I prod, urging him to continue.
“I remember she… she…” His wrinkles deepen, and an overwhelming sadness takes over his face.
He remembers. He remembers the truth.
“Died.” I fill in the blank for him, and his face immediately fills with utter shock.
He nods before pulling at the collar of his shirt, making his discomfort obvious.
“What else?” I push, my voice tense.
If he remembers, there’s a chance that other servants will remember too.
And if they remember, then maybe… just maybe…
Azalea will remember. There’s a part of me that should be hopeful for this outcome, but I found that hope has only led me to sheer disappointment, so I squander it before it can take root in my soul.
I instead focus on the more likely consequence that could come from some servants remembering.
If they remember, and she doesn’t, there is the chance they could say something that would cause her to start remembering and steal away my last chance to break this curse.
More importantly, if anyone remembered the full truth, they could reveal it to her.
No. When the time comes, I should be the one to bear that burden.
“You brought her into the village, and while you were gone, there was a shockwave that overtook the castle.”
My stomach churns. I never thought about what it was like for those who were in the castle at the time, involuntarily becoming bound to this place with no warning.
“After that, things get fuzzy again. But, I saw Lady Azalea this morning, and she looked… well…”
“Very much alive,” I provide again.
Gravesley nods. “Am I losing my mind?”
I let out a laugh, but it’s hollow and completely devoid of any humor. “If you are, then you can join the club because that means I lost my mind ages ago.”
After a quick promenade through the castle, it became abundantly clear that Gravesley was the only one who had his memories return. The outright disdain that was shown to me by my servants when they thought I wasn’t paying attention was proof enough of that.
At least I have Gravesley, though, who is now, more or less, refusing to leave my side. It’s probably for the best. The old man looks like he’s seen a ghost and is terrible at hiding it.
I have someone, though. For the first time in a century, I have someone who knows the whole truth and won’t forget it upon going to bed.
And for whatever skyforsaken reason, he’s actually on my side with it.
Even though no matter how you twist the truth, I will always be the villain in Azalea’s story.