𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 | 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

𝐱. 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐍𝐎𝐖 - 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒏𝒐𝒘

♕

Dahlia nearly impaled herself stumbling over Caliburn.

"Oh for the love of the Angel! Who put my sword in the middle of the room?" Dahlia yelled. Christopher looked sheepish over a cup of tea.

Dahlia sighed picking up the sword. Lucie had fallen a sleep curled up near Thomas who was playing cards with Anna. Matthew was staring out the window seriously and Christopher was carefully writing down ideas on a notebook with a cup of tea near him.

Dahlia had been wandering around the kitchen and the house looking for something, anything to do. She had made her way back into the Drawing Room only to be nearly impaled by her own sword.

"Betrayal, by my own sword. How fitting." Dahlia muttered, setting it up against a wall.

She ruffled Christopher's hair as she wandered away out of the room. She was followed by Matthew. It could only be Matthew, with the smell of brandy and wheat and soft footsteps.

She would know him blind, dead or alive. He was a part of her as she was a part of him.

"You seemed a little upset earlier." Matthew said, sipping from his flask as she turned around. Dahlia smiled, shaking her head. "No Math, I wasn't."

Matthew raised an eyebrow, "I do not believe you."

"Well you will have to take my word for it." Dahlia said.

Matthew held his hand out, "Would dancing help?"

Dahlia laughed. "I hate you. You know that right?"

Matthew grinned, "You love me."

"I would love to dance, jann, but I do not think I can. Not right now."

Matthew furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

"My stomach hurts." Dahlia said. It wasn't exactly a lie, her stomach did hurt. She couldn't exactly tell him she was bleeding.

Matthew's eyes widened in worry. "Do you need water? A hug? Sleep?" he fretted.

Dahlia smiled shaking her head, "No, no, it's fine. You go do something else."

Matthew cast one last worried glance at her and disappeared into the Drawing Room.

Dahlia made her way outside the house. Thomas came out a few moments later, seeming proud of himself.

Dahlia sighed, "Close the door behind you." she said.

Thomas did as requested, silently cursing.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"That you'd be sneaking out?" Dahlia asked, crossing her arms. "Honestly, Thomas, I've been waiting for you so long out here I was afraid my dress would go out of style."

"I just wanted some air—"

"No, you didn't," she said sighing deeply. "You had that look in your eye. You're going to go out and patrol alone again. Tom, don't be foolish."

"I have to do what I can, and I'm of better use out there than I am in the drawing room," Thomas said. "James doesn't need six of us to make sure he doesn't leave the house."

"Thomas, look at me," she said, and he did. Her blue gaze was steady.

She laid a gloved hand on his cheek. "We are special, unusual, unique people. That means that we must be bold and proud, but also careful. Don't think you have so much to prove that it makes you foolish. If you must patrol, go to the Institute and ask to be assigned a partner. If I discover that you are out on your own, I will be very angry."