James Oliver stood upon the steps of Billington manor, and silently reminded himself to let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.
He clutched the invitation in the firm grasp of his stout fingers, swallowing a grimace as he looked up at the columns looming overhead. Somewhere in the distance, a canary sang its sweet sorrow into the golden afternoon, the tune floating above the breeze as though a warning to some recipient beyond his view. The maple trees surrounding the mansion hummed their sweet harmony into the wind, leaves rustling in reply to the music. Somewhere beyond the sturdy cherrywood doors, a violin sang its addition, the high melody mingling with quiet nature.
Days at the shop he called home never seemed to house this concurrent silence and symphony. The bustle of townspeople and the squeak of peddled shoes made certain that every day was busy with noise. It wasn't that he disliked the cobbling career, but here in the manor garden, it felt as though he was truly breathing for the first time.
Cassandra had always hated the shop. James could still remember the way she always scrunched up her nose at the stench of leather, the way she had lectured Loretta and Charles about the importance of education so that someday they all could move "somewhere more proper". Apparently she couldn't have stood to wait that long.
He didn't quite blame her. Cassandra was a noble, with money in her pockets and men around her pinky finger. Why she married a shopkeep like him, he wasn't sure of, for though he was wealthy the money never seemed to last. It never seemed to be enough for her, so she had left and taken the children with her.
He was well aware that the invitation to this masquerade was not meant for him. Cassie was an old family friend of Sir Billiam Billington, and she often visited him for tea when she was particularly miffed at James's 'filthy' profession. Gazing around the yard quietly, he could see why—the mansion was dotted with white roses, the picture of elegance and wealth. It was everything she had wished for in life, everything James couldn't provide.
The masked man struggled to swallow his nervousness. Billiam was a friend of his as well, but he knew the wealthy lord would ask questions. And yet, the enchanting scenery seemed to draw him in, the music in the air calling him to a path fogged and blurry. Or in this case, hidden by a giant wooden door.
The marble columns beckoned and taunted him.
Taking a deep breath, he reached for the gilded handle, turning it with ease and gently pushing it open.
He let the dull scarlet glow wash over him as he entered Billington manor for the first—and last—time.
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The Ghost Of You - A Karlnap Fic
FanficWhen a strange man from his dreams and a boy from his homeroom begin to blur together in his mind, Karl Jacobs must first recognize truths about himself to uncover the truth of the past. Cover fanart is not mine! If anyone knows who's it is please...