Then I took from her, not once, but thrice.
Her heart, her virtue, her life.
My second mistake.
Then I decided to take her back home with a promise to make her my queen.
Father shunned her as nothing but a gold-digging witch and declared she be banned from the castle. And I chose to send her on her way because I could not give her the life I promised. I had nothing to offer. Because my entire life belonged to my father, the great Sinclair Winthrop, who by judge and jury unto himself bound all future Winthrop men to marry of royal birth. I accepted his terms when I should’ve fought for the woman I loved.
My ultimate mistake.
Because Snow—just Snow was not an innocent seventeen-year-old girl. She was a white witch who came into her power on her eighteen birthday. The day I took her virtue. White witches were known to do good in our world, they healed and helped. Unless they were betrayed. And I betrayed Snow. I took everything from her and gave nothing in return.
So, she did the only thing she could do.
She ripped the necklace I’d given her and with her blue eyes, empty voids of ice, she cursed my father. “You, Winthrop Sinclair, have cast your sons, their sons and all future Winthrop men into the fire of hell. Winthrop men will never know what it is to fall in love and every eldest son will die at the age of thirty-five unless your bloodline consummates with a virgin from my bloodline. Which will never happen.”
But my father and his father before him, did not believe in witches. And so, did I.
“There are no such things as witches, woman,” my father roared. “You are nothing but a charlatan after power and titles. Curses do not exist. Leave or I will have you beheaded.”
Her laugh lacked mirth and reminded me of snapping steel. “Acurse need only to survive on the strength of a woman’s love for a man she trusted with all her heart, Winthrop.” She kissed the chain and threw it at his feet. “You will need that to break the curse but toss it if you don’t believe. The burden lives on your shoulders to do as you please.”
She left then, never to be seen again.
I didn’t believe in curses, yet I couldn’t afford to take a chance. I searched far and wide for Snow, to no avail. I never found her or her paradise valley. I did, however, find Nan Flora, at a country market one spring day, many years later. The day before my thirty fifth birthday and by chance.
“You have angered a very powerful witch, Sebastian and I cannot undo what she has done. You would be wise to heed her words. However, I will cast a spell that might lesson the curse, somewhat. You cannot tell anyone what it is. While it might not work for you, it could work for another descendant of your bloodline.”
I thanked her for her help, and I cannot tell you what it is. A true Sinclair will, however, figure it out, one day.
Is the curse real?
I lived until I was thirty-five years and six months, and I thought the curse did not work.
Only, it did because I penned this last sentence as I struggled for my last breath as attested to by Friar John.
