The Story of Jane

Side of Revolution Anyone?

1 year ago.

"Hello?" Jane knocked on the door, looking uncomfortable around at her surroundings. Rian Square was not a popular attraction, although the town still had it's charms. Each building exterior she passed was painted over with caricatures or views she could only dream of seeing in Keydon's dull weather.

"Who is it?"

"Um, Jane Wilson." She gave a small wave at the woman greeting her. "I brought the mandatory muffin basket. James Reginald said the... movement is meeting here."

"Movement," the woman chuckled. "Call it a revolution, girl. That man acts tough but he has no stomach." She shook her head. "He drinks chrysanthemum every evening while he finishes his wife's needlework. Flowery sort of fellow, but he has a good heart. Alice Weston" She stuck out her hand, laughing when Jane gave her the muffin basket. "We're friends here, Jane." She shook Jane's hand this time. "So, tell me a bit about you. It works to fight our weak spots before we make a move."

______

"Lady Jane?"

"It's open, Emmeline." It was dawn, roughly six or seven in the morning and the house was already hard at work. There was always a system to everything, and with Jane tending to the house, earlier hours meant quicker dismissal. A decision her father had yet to disapprove. After all, how much could there possibly be to manage in an empty house?

"Three telegrams for you miss." She placed the three envelopes on the already paper-laden desk. "Shall I have the cook prepare breakfast for Your Grace?"

"Not yet," Jane said, making her way to the gardens as she broke the seal off the first; addressed to her from the Finleys. She couldn't understand their association with her family. But with Lord Wilson away, it meant an unlimited excuse to declining invitations. "Another invitation to dinner," she muttered, crumpling the paper. Father was away for another week at least. "Actually, you can ask Mr. Jones to have the day off. His wife is with child perhaps he should spend the day with her."

"Very good miss." Emmeline nodded, falling into Jane's fast steps. "Will there be anything else?"

"Yes, in fact." She handed her a slip of paper. Her parents had prepared a handful of excuses before they left for cases just like this. "This is for Lady Finley. In the hopes there won't be a reply," she added quietly.

"And your breakfast miss?"

"I'm sure I can find something in the kitchen." Jane's smile quickly turned to a frown. There was an enormous gape in their personal savings. "I need privacy at noon, to sort a few things out. Do I have anyone visiting today?"

"Only an Emma Sernine." Jane stumbled, tripping on the hem of her dress. "Miss?"

"Is it Wednesday already?" She muttered to herself, dusting off her skirts. "I'll be out this evening as well. Don't wait on me for dinner. Miss Sernine will be treating me today."

"Yes miss."

__________

Quiet chatter, the clink of porcelain and glass, and a soft symphony of notes pouring out of the gramophone in the corner of the room. There was a magic to it, the drunken patrons milling around the bar, waitresses chatting amongst themselves, the mingling scent of alcohol and tea potent in the air even as Jane entered. Bliss. Not one face noticed her presence.

This was a part of Dewward far too close to the Ealdran border. Where the sky was a cloud of smoke and the air smelled of burning coal. A place where nobility had no place and respect was given to the deserving lower class. This was where she could disappear.

But the freedom evaporated as soon as she saw the lady in black, walking towards her with a drink in hand, her hair glinting in the fading sunlight.

"Late again, Lady Jane."

"A rhyme." The urge to steal her drink grew worse by the second. The afternoon's negotiation with her father's tax collectors left her tired and a bit drained for the evening. "How amusing.' She let out a tired smile. "Where are the rest?"

"Still working." The lady said, leading them both to an unoccupied booth. "I heard about your engagement to the prince. Congratulations."

"And you on yours." She grinned. Her friend had managed to 'snatch' Keydon's prince. Although Jane could see no reason as to why they called it a steal. Emma was a rare beauty. She could hardly believe Kit hadn't managed to snatch her up. "His Majesty is a very lucky man. I should probably have a word with him before your wedding. Warn him about your excessive temper." Her grin grew wider as she dodged a kick from under the table.

"I should probably warn Kit about your hoarding then." Emma stuck out her tongue. "But it's been three months and I've only heard of your engagement. How long do you think before he realises he's the one you're hoarding?"

"One week, two at most," Jane chuckled with hollow eyes. As far as anyone in the establishment knew, they were two giddy engaged girls. But every word had another meaning. Every action left the other guessing. "Have you heard about Everly Green? She dared trying to ask for a higher pay from her employer."

"No," Emma gasped animatedly, making fun of their performance. "How dare she? You know, I heard about her living alone in Rian Square. Horrible place."

__________

"Emma?" Jane called out as she entered the flat, the cold air following her in. "You left your spare keys with me." She hung her coat and trudged to what vaguely resembled a sitting room. "...Are you home?" she looked around with doubt. They had promised in the establishment, 816 Rian Square in two weeks. That immature show couldn't have meant nothing. "Mrs. Green," she called down the stairs. "Are you sure Miss Sernine's here?"

"Hasn't left in days," the elderly lady yelled in response. "She's in there somewhere."

"Emma?" Jane went back into the sitting room. Mismatched furniture was placed at odd corners, a rather large pile of blankets were left on the armchair and a table drowning in research seemed to act as a makeshift centrepiece. It would have been interesting to see Emma try to hold an actual wedding here. "Emma?" She scrunched her nose at the upturned tea cups on a slightly unstable coffee table. Then there was a snort and the pile of blankets seemed to startle itself awake.

"Wilson?" She took a rag off her face. "I thought you were coming on Tuesday. What are you doing here?" She stifled a yawn and glanced at her watch. "Oh, it is Tuesday."

"Really? I didn't know," Jane rolled her eyes. "How long have you been under there?" She offered her a hand.

"Well it's five now." Emma looked out the window to the cloudless blue sky. "About 12 hours, I'd say. What are you doing here? Irene hasn't arrived yet"'

"Nothing," Jane said, casually going through her papers. "Have you been studying architecture? Of the Lyrell Royal institute?"

"Well it isn't exactly a kind place for women is it? I thought we could stage the first attack there."

"No, not quite," Jane agreed. "Should we wait or— Hello." They turned to another girl dressed just as plainly as them. But held a much higher title.

The princess stood in the doorway, somehow as invisible as they were. "Let's get started shall we? Equal pay waits for no one."