On the hill above town is the large, ancient estate of the Rothburn family. Even today, the Rothburn heir calls the place home, though from the outside the place looks abandoned. What was once a complex for a large, powerful family and their many servants is now a tombstone for their legacy. Only Jon Rothburn, the sole Rothburn heir, makes an effort to keep the place livable and slowly restore what has fallen into decay.
Today, he is joined by Amilia SW Burton, an heiress in her own right to the rising SW Burton oil company. Far from the aristocratic Rothburns, they were "new money," and her mannerisms showed. Often, each would do something that confused or offended the other, neither understanding the other's culture. However, instead of becoming enemies, they developed a sense of humor about it and became closer as a result. Amilia's father approves of the relationship, even teasing the two for delaying their "inevitable" marriage.
As for Jon, he has no family left to approve or disapprove. He is young, but has been blessed with the chance to be his own man with no expectations to meet at all. It is perhaps for this reason that he has chosen to maintain a romantic relationship with Amilia but feels no rush to marry her. Were his family alive, they would insist that she were no better than a peasant, hardly worthy of romantic consideration. They would arrange for him to marry someone from a "respectable" household, probably one that they had married into a few times already.
Amilia saw his family in a much more romantic light than he did. The crumbling gothic architecture of their home, the finery they left behind, the library full of esoteric knowledge, it was all filled with a kind of ironic whimsy. Jon, however, insisted that these things were all signs of his family's shame, their descent from a proud, noble house into a debauched coven. All the same, he was too respectful of his family's reputation to name names, except where he felt it was personal. He referred to his mother, Jocata Rothburn, as "The Queen of Witches" and spoke openly about her many upsetting rituals and experiments.
He had a request for Amilia on that very basis: "Never touch anything that used to belong to my mother. I've combed through everything and made sure that it's all contained in her old room. I've marked an 'X' on the door in red paint and left it locked. You must never go there. I'm sure you'd suffer a terrible curse."
Amilia did so think the eccentricities of the gentry were charming. It spoke so much to his depth of emotion that he sealed away everything that reminded him of her and locked it away. That he convinced himself they were cursed, well, it was insane, but really quite cute. She thought so anyways. She arrived at a plan: she would sneak over to that side of the house, pick the lock like her uncle had shown her how to, and take a thing or two. Nothing much, just enough to slowly get him to see it again and let him process these emotions. She was sure it would be a great help. And if she should find anything that she liked, well, it would be a shame not to let him give them to her, right? Quite a waste otherwise.
Within the room, she found it hardly suited for human occupation. Some time had passed with the place locked tight, so dust and cobwebs spoiled the finery of the gorgeous bed and patterned green wallpaper. This was to be expected. Even less lived-in were the crates, chests, and boxes stacked on the bed, as well as a pile of books that had not been read in years. Amilia was about to examine the books, when something else shiny caught her eye: Jocasta Rothburn's jewelry box! That, too, was locked, and required some time to pick. While she negotiated with the lock, she heard a voice calling out to her. "Emma?" Jon called her. "Emma, are you here?"
She hastened her work on the lock. She knew that getting caught like this would be no good, but she wanted so badly for him to see her as the kind of woman that he deserved to marry. The kind of woman that wore jewelry like this! She opened the box and was immediately struck by a vibrant, luminescent green. Emeralds! Apparently, Jocasta was a fan of them, because she had a necklace, ring, and brooch all absolutely stunning emerald green.
"Emma!"
Amilia put on the necklace. Immediately, she could feel herself becoming more beautiful. She looked at herself in the mirror and swore she looked just slightly younger. And of course, it looked fabulous on her.
"Amilia, where on Earth have you gone? Do not tease me like this!"
Amilia looked at the brooch. It would look great on her, but she did not have time to affix it to her dress just right now. She had to slip out and meet him soon or he would find her rifling through his mother's things like a common thief. She looked to the ring instead. Such a gorgeous emerald ring!
She slipped it on her finger, careful not to force it on in case it was too small for her. As it reached the base of her ring finger, though, she was surprised to find it was a perfect fit. It did not feel tight at all. In fact, as she clenched and unclenched her fist, she realized that she could not feel it at all. Then, she felt her arm go totally numb and fall limp.
In a panic, she ran toward the door, but the leg on that same side of her body had gone limp as well. She feared she was having a stroke, brought on by the stressful situation she had put herself in. She crawled along the ground with one leg and one arm, desperately reaching for the door. She tried to call out to Jon, but it was in vain. Her whole body froze up. She felt herself locked within the cage of her mind.
Then, she felt someone else enter that cage.
"Who are you?" she heard a voice say, hotty and arrogant. She looked around with whatever peripheral vision she had left, but could see nobody. The voice was coming from inside her head!
"What? I am Amilia. Who are you? What is happening to me?"
"You expect me to answer three questions at once? I must say I find you uncouth, Amilia. Tell me, are you part of my clan? Are you a Rothburn?"
"I am here with Jon! Jon Rothburn! Please, I didn't mean to steal, I only-"
"I did not ask that," the voice insisted. "You shall speak when spoken to or not at all while you are in my room, Miss Amilia."
This was her room? So this voice, was it Jocata Rothburn? "I do not speak!" Amilia protested. "I can only think. I cannot move! What has happened to me?"
"Do not repeat yourself," the voice ordered. "Had I wished to answer your question, I would have. Oh, you are a simply dreadful conversationalist. I'm afraid I simply have no time for someone so tedious. I shall place you here for safekeeping until I find I have need for you. Be you on your way!"
With that, Amilia felt herself go blind and deft to the world around her. After a moment her vision suddenly returned, but had changed. She could see herself, her own body, as it towered over her like the Rothburn estate itself! She saw the room around her as giant, in an emerald green tint. She finally caught on as she felt one of her own hands rub against her, locking her into place on her finger: she was in the ring!
It was just like Jon said! She was cursed! Whatever spirit had inhabited this ring, it had swapped places with her, taking her body while she was trapped in the ring. She could not call for help, move, or do anything except watch and listen from inside this tiny space.
"Amilia!"
The body of Amilia walked out of the room without a care in the world. "Do not strain your voice, my dear! I am here."
"Amilia..." Jon said, relieved. "Thank God! I thought you had taken a bad fall or some such calamity."
"Yes, I suppose that would be unfortunate."
"Emma, I told you not to go into that room. I was serious. My mother's things really will curse you if you are not careful."
Amilia only wished he knew how right he was.
"I am fine, love," the possessor answered. "Please, don't worry so much about me. It's unbecoming."
"I don't care if it's unbecoming. I love you, Emma. I could not bear it if anything happened to you." With that, he kissed her. Amilia watched and was filled with conflicting feelings of jealousy, tenderness, and dread.
After a moment had passed, the she-spirit pushed him away playfully and said "You mustn't get too friendly, now. I don't have a ring on my finger yet."
Amilia saw Jon look right at her, totally unaware. "It seems you do have one. When did you get that?"
"Oh, you caught me," the spirit said. "The truth is, I was looking through Jocata's jewelry and decided to put some on. You must think me no better than a common thief. But, the reason is, I thought it would be romantic if you gave me your late mother's ring as an engagement ring. Please don't think less of me!"
It was a lie! She just wanted him to embrace his good memories of his mother instead of writing her off as a witch! But now, Amilia could see that, if this spirit was all that was left of his mother, she truly must have been a horrible witch in life as well!
"Is that true? I thought you were resistant to the idea of getting married so young. If it is what you want then, I would be happy to. I shall send word to your father! We shall round up a few witnesses and have it in the church this very day!"
"Going to a church could be problematic..." the unholy spirit said to itself aloud. "I mean, uh, I still don't want all of that. I want to be married in the old sense, you know. Common law marriage. It's the Scottish way."
"I didn't know you were Scottish." Both Amilia and the spirit held their breath anticipating that he was about to catch on. However, all he said was "Did you used to be the McBurtons?"
"Ah, yes," the spirit chuckled, "hahaha, exactly."
"Well," he said, "what does that entail, then? You have my ring. Or would you rather take it off so I can make a point of presenting it to you?"
"No!" the spirit snapped. Amilia took note of this. If it objected to that, it must mean that she would return to her body if the ring was removed. At least, she could hope so. "I mean, let's not be bogged down in any formalities. I have your ring, you have my promise to be yours forever, what more do we need?"
"Oh, I see what you're getting at." Jon said, suggestively. "You mean we need to consummate our marriage!" Both Amilia and the spirit were taken aback by this logical progression. Not only would Amilia miss losing her own physical virginity, and miss taking Jon's virginity, but if the spirit really was Jocasta then Jon would be unknowingly committing incest!
Jon picked up Amilia's body in a bridal carry position and took them in the direction of his room. "W-wait!" the spirit protested. "Won't somebody see us?"
"It's just the two of us here, baby. Relax!" with that, he belt over and started laying kisses on Amilia's neck.
"Oh, I forgot how good it felt to have a body..." the spirit said to itself. "I mean, to have somebody so close to me, so intimate."
"This is barely the start, my dear." he eagerly swung her around and continued up the stairs and down the hall to his room.
"Wait," the ghost protested again, "We can't, it's not right. I mean, uh, today's not a good day, it's really not. This was fun, but we should really stop now."
Jon did not buy that one. "Are you nervous, baby? But you're the one who proposed this. You cute little minx! Don't worry, sweetheart. I swear I will be gentle and loving with you."
"Oh, don't talk such trite..."
