𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 | 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 - 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒐

♕

Dahlia rose early the next day to find that it had snowed during the night, wiping the world clean. The streets of London sparkled, not yet turned to churning mud by carriage wheels. Roofs and chimneys were wreathed in white, and snow sifted gently down from the boughs of the bare trees along Curzon Street. 

She shivered through the thin material of her nightgown. Matthew was fast asleep on the bed near hers, he looked peaceful. Childish innocence shone through him, it made her want to stroke his hair and kiss him softly telling his everything would be okay.

But she had to do something first. She reached under her bed for the chest Ariadne had presented her. She pulled it out and hauled it onto the bed, and sat criss cross in front of it, there was a bronze lock on it with the initials 'K.J ' imprinted on the top. She smiled softly, opening a drawer on the nightstand next to her and searching for the necklace Ariadne had also given her. 

It was a beautiful necklace, with a golden chain and a beautiful circular pendant with diamond engraved into it.

There was a small, almost invisible, latch on the side of the pendant. Dahlia flicked it open to reveal a key, she smiled lightly. Of course Ariadne did that. This chest wasn't meant to be opened by anyone but the two of them.

She opened the chest.

Inside there was an assortment of things, Indian jewelry was one, sarees, lehenga's, lots and lots of mehendi, family heirlooms and a sword. It was a silver and gold sword, one side silver the other side gold. There was a peacock engraved on it in quick, graceful strokes. It also had words on it.

I am Caliburn tempered of the same steel as Excalibur.

Dahlia stared at it. Caliburn.

Hadn't that been what Filomena had told her? Wielder of Caliburn.

Matthew had begun to stir, Dahlia set the sword on the bed and closed the chest, save a tube of mehendi, and locked it.

She put the key back in the pendant and put it on her neck, under the star pendant Matthew had given her.

After they'd left the sailcloth factory the previous day, it had been decided that there was no way around it: the adults would need to be told about the factory, the bloody cloak. Concealing the information would only interfere with the investigation into the murders. Dahlia had pled a headache, hoping to simply return home and not bother the others, but desperate for some time alone to think about Filomena. It had worked only somewhat. Matthew had insisted on returning with her to Curzon Street, where he had gone straight to Arya for headache remedies. Arya had fussed over Dahlia half the evening until she hid under the covers of her bed and pretended to be asleep. 

Dahlia stumbled to the bathroom, showering quickly and putting her damp hair in a twist. She put on a dark red dress, usually dark colors didn't suit her. She didn't care at the moment, she had decided today she would put on mehendi, seeing it had started to fade.

She spread a white sheet on her bed and settled on it, with the tube next to her.

Matthew had woken up and was sitting on the right side of his bed, the side that faced her bed. His head was in his hands.

She smiled at him, opening the tube. "Good morning, Matthew." 

He gave her a sleepy, adorable smile. "Good morning, Dahlia."

Oscar gave a bark from near Matthew's bed at the sound of Matthew's voice.

"You too Oscar." he called.