I blink. “Well, it was my fault that he—”

  She interrupts. “Lord Rutheford, informed me of everything.” She wipes the tears off of her cheeks. “You didn’t know of the curse or how it works, I can’t hold you responsible for that.” She trails off.

  “Well, he isn’t saved yet.” I speak earnestly. “He is still bedridden and hasn’t woken up yet.”

  She remains silent for a moment and sighs. “I know, but—” She struggles to stifle more tears. “—I know you can find a way, afterall, Lord Rutheford says you have been chosen by a greater power.”

  Just how much is blabbering about my situation? I feel slightly frustrated. “Well, I’m just a low level mage, there isn’t much I can do for the moment.” I feel like a fish out of water. “I have no idea why I was chosen, or what I was even chosen to do.”

  She answers again with a silent stare, tears welling up in her eyes.

  I feel her tugging at my heart strings. Is this some sort of scheme from Rutheford, sending a grieving maid to my bedside. From the Lord’s behavior so far it isn’t a stretch. Well fuck him, its working. I take in a deep breath. “I just need time to think, I’m sorry.”

  She smiles and bows. “Thank you, for your consideration.” She begins to take her leave.

  “What is your name, by the way?” Her ears perk up when I ask her.

  “My name is Layla, maid to house Borial.” She hangs in the doorway for a moment. “I’ll be taking my leave, Master Jason.” Her voice sounds more hopeful now, than when she came in.

  Got to stop writing cheques my ass can’t cash. I had given her hope, somewhat unintentionally. “Very well, thank you.”

  She leaves the room.

  After another hour of fretting over my situation, a notification pops up.

  

  

  <10 HOURS REMAINING TO ACCEPT INVITE>

  “Ten hours?” I glance at the clock in the room. At Least clocks are the same in this world. The clock reads two in the afternoon. That Lord is really pressuring me for an answer. I wrack my brain trying to think over the deal again. It seems like a good deal, but what does he expect to get out of me? That thought is the one that has plagued me since he left. “I need to get some air.” I decide aloud.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  I struggle to get up from my bed, given that my knees are still weak. “Must be an aftereffect of the curse mark.” At the very least it was nice of the lord to give me a break from it. The dark feeling I felt over me for the last few days has lifted. Unless the curse mark activated the feeling remained relatively in the back of my mind. The spell he casted is working for sure.

  I peak my head out into the hallway. Paintings line the castle-ly hallways, each portrait frames someone in noble clothes. The floor is made of polished marble. As I would expect, given this is a royal bloodline. I think for a moment on where I should go first. “I should go check on Arther.” I mutter.

  I walk up and down the hallways looking for an attendant that might know where he is. “Such a big castle with so little servants.” I grumble. I motion the time limit screen to show again.

  <9 HOURS>

  “Shit—” I begin to mutter.

  “You need a servant, well you’re in luck.” A voice comes from the wall behind me.

  I turn to the wall, only to be met with nothing but another fancy painting. “Am I going crazy now?” I reach out to inspect the painting further.

  The figure inside the painting starts to laugh. I jerk my hand back. “What the hell?”

  “What, never seen a talking painting before?” It continues to laugh. “What about a talking vase?” The painting freezes again and I hear the chuckling from the end table behind me. “I’m over here now.”

  I turn around to see a disturbing sight. The Vase is twisted and morphed into a face. “Uh—” I stammer. “I’d rather be talking to a painting on second thought.” The vase is horrifying to look at, uncanny even.

  “Suit yourself.” The vase snaps back to its original shape. “What can I help you with today, Master Jason?” The voice came from the painting again.

  “So you know my name too? How many people has he told—”

  “Oh, I see everything that happens in this castle, well aside from a couple rooms.” The painting recoils a little bit. “Lavatories aren’t a pleasant place to possess objects in.” The painting shivers a bit.

  I shiver at the thought. “Wait, do you know where Arther is then?”

  “Of course he is behind the last door on the left side of this hall.” A door opens a little at the end of the hall.

  “Thank you—” I pause. “Painting?”

  “The painting chuckles. “If you are wondering my name, I’m afraid I can’t share that with you.” He nods. “I am known as The Servant, you can call on me at any time you need me—” The painting shifts its gaze. “—except for when you are in the lavatory.” It reaffirms.

  “Understood.” I would never think of such a horrible request.

  ///

  As I enter the room my heart drops. The man, who I know as Arther, looks to have aged 30 years. Gray hairs sprout from his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t know more about—” I begin to choke up at his bedside. “It’s all my fault, I should have learned more first.”

  My tears begin to stain the white linen bed sheets. It’s all my fault, I should just leave before— My stomach grows warm as I brace myself for the sharp pain behind my eye. Nothing happens.

  His spell is still working. This gave me a second to think about the nature of the mark and when it activates. He said it's guiding me. I try to think back to all the times it happened. Does it have something to do with my choices or—

  “So you came to see him, have you considered my offer some more?” Lord Rutheford’s voice comes from the doorway.

  “The time limit, the crying maid, all great tactics.” I grumble.

  “The time limit was part of my scheme, but the maid’s actions were her own.” He pulls up a chair next to me. “You don’t owe Arther anything, he chose to protect you and Lisa with his life.” He reaches out to hold his brother's hand. “You couldn’t have known the Curse mark would do that, so don’t make your decision based on some debt to Arther.”

  “No.” I interrupt him. “I will accept the role, I owe it to Layla. She believes in me.” I bring the screen up.

  

   or

  I tap the “y” option.