THE primary reason the Clare fortune expanded during William’s generation was due to seizing the demesne allotted to the priest residing at Clare Castle at the time. Although the priest served God, his attachment to money and gain was no different than any secular man.
Perhaps entering and leaving Clare Castle as he pleased went to his head. Or perhaps he deluded himself into thinking he was a member of the Clare family. Either way, he began putting his own word in regarding the administration of the finances.
William told him to stop but left it at a verbal warning. He had decided to wait and see if the priest had learned his lesson.
“He serves God before he serves me,” William had said. He believed the man knew where his duties lied, even if he proved to be a secular priest living in a secular society.
...Unfortunately, the priest didn’t change. Quite the opposite, in fact. He sent a false report claiming that he was unable to collect taxes from the people of his demesne due to failed crops and pocketed the money. Come the third year, William held a covert investigation. During the three years the priest supposedly hadn’t been able to collect taxes, there had been lush harvests, and the serfs had paid in full. William finally confiscated the land from the priest for lining his own pockets and told him to leave the castle.
Supposedly, he spat out, “Be grateful I don’t report this to the Central Church!”
But things took an unexpected turn later that night. The priest summoned William to the castle chapel. There, he warned, “Return my land. If you don’t, God will no longer bless you with children.”
“...Isn’t...that a threat?” Sonia doubted her own ears, unable to believe that a priest would be capable of such a thing.
“William was a very devout man. The priest probably assumed that he could scare William into returning the land if he threatened him as a messenger of the Lord,” Patrice said.
“But Grandfather refused, didn’t he...?”
Patrice nodded and continued, “Apparently the argument continued for some time after that. The two escalated in their anger until eventually...”
The priest cried, “Deaf to the words of the Lord, you will no longer receive His blessings!”
“How dare you use the Lord as cover to sate your greed! You are the one who will incur God’s wrath, Father!” William retorted.
“You dare ridicule me?! That is the same heinous act as ridiculing God! His wrath will not be assuaged until the Clare line perishes!”
“The moment the priest declared that to William, the statue of the Holy Mother in the chapel fell on his back, killing the man,” Patrice said.
“I had no idea... So that’s why the chapel in the castle was blocked off...” Sonia said.
“I’ve heard William felt God punished the priest. Seeing as he could no longer continue using a chapel soiled with bloodshed, he had a church built outside and replaced the priest...” Patrice stopped there and gulped.
“Let me call for a fresh pot of tea...” Sonia offered, but Patrice stopped her from calling a maid.
“No, water will suffice.”
He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher. Emptying the glass in a single swig, he continued the story now that he had wet his parched mouth.
“Although it came to an unsavory conclusion, the problem had been resolved. At least, that was what William told me back when I was the Crown Prince and my father was the King. I also felt ‘divine punishment’ had rightly been served, going by his story.”
“...If that’s true, how do you explain all of the terrifying, otherworldly things that have happened to me and the Clares?! Are you sure my grandfather didn’t omit some of the facts?” Sonia asked in a trembling voice, but Patrice shook his head.
“Sonia, this is merely the prelude. The real trouble starts here.”
First, illness began taking the lives of the Clares’ relatives one after the next. Honestly, no one realized this was due to the “curse” at the beginning. Everyone assumed the series of unfortunate losses continued because they ate bread made from poisoned rye that had been refined into flour.
Not long thereafter, strange phenomena began to occur in the main residence, Clare Castle. William’s wife, Isabella, was the first to lose her life to these otherworldly terrors. Then they took William’s younger brother and his family.
To this day, I still clearly remember how haggard William appeared from fending off the curse and ghoulish trickery on the day he came to my father for advice.
“If this persists, my line will perish at his hands,” William bemoaned.
“His hands? Of whom do you speak?”
“The priest... He has fallen to the other side in death,” William answered.
“The late priest...cursed us...?” Sonia asked with a look of disbelief.
Patrice explained, “As long as you are a living being, even those in service of the Lord are subject to temptation. They simply strive to overcome such worldly desires. However, that priest was unable to suppress his greed.”
Recognizing the root of the problem, William wanted to resolve it before harm came to his sons and their families. As such, he asked the Pope at the time to commune with the priest at Clare Castle.
William intended to return the confiscated land to the priest’s family in exchange for lifting the “curse.” Alas, his demands had grown far greedier in death.
“Hand over the taxes collected while you kept my land,” he insisted. “Return the wheat you harvested. If you can’t, by the Lord, I swear the Clare line will no longer be blessed with progeny.”
William shot back at the disembodied voice, “Your actions defile God! How dare you administer judgment beyond the grave! Do you think yourself a god?!”
The priest retorted in response, “I speak the words of God! You must be a demon to stand in defiance! I cannot turn a blind eye to this house of Devil worshipers! I shall set you on the right path from the other side!”
“...Then he vanished, bringing an end to the séance. Ultimately, the situation hasn’t changed since then...” Patrice said, bringing the story to an end.
Everyone was at a loss for words.
The only ones present were Sonia, Patrice, Chris, and Severin, but the gravity of the situation held their tongues. Sonia seemed to have taken it particularly hard. Part of it was due to shock that curses did, indeed, exist; part of it was because the curse had been placed by a dead man, and not just any dead man, but a man of the cloth.
“In other words, God has forsaken the Clare line...” Sonia said, coming to a pitiful conclusion.
“That isn’t true, Sonia!”
“Don’t lie!” Finally snapping, Sonia shouted back at Patrice. “Otherwise, why didn’t God save us before I was all alone? If that priest is in the wrong, He should have stopped this madness ages ago! ...It’s still going on because my grandfather sinned!” she yelled.
“Sonia...it’s not as though God helps us at each and every turn. We must wait until He does,” Patrice said.
“So is the Clare line supposed to die off? Is that why He’s waited this long? Because that’s what it looks like!”
Seeing Sonia grow hysterical, Patrice and Chris drew close in hopes to comfort her, but she pushed them away and tore at her hair. “Stay away from me! Leave me alone!” she screamed.
Given her rattled state, the three men decided it would be best to leave the room for the time being and stationed a guard outside the door.
“Princess,” Chris called as he was stepping out. Sonia was trembling, her head buried in the sofa armrest. “Please don’t forget. There are those who wish to save you.”
“...I’m nothing but an inconvenience to you. The cursed Duchess abandoned by God is just a burden for the Diamant Knight, Sir Chris,” Sonia spat sourly without bothering to lift her head up or turn to look at Chris. “Leave me alone!”
With no choice but to grant Sonia’s hysterical plea for solitude, Chris left the room with heavy feet.