Farisia Rising

Eva

Eva Courtenay was a beautiful sight. With her golden curls and porcelain-doll face. Her sharp green eyes, wide and trusting. And the white lace dress she always wore.

First thing in the door of the Claremont Bistro, all eyes were on her, from young suitors to jealous spinsters.

She walked straight to the bar.

The waiter, an older man with a gray walrus-stache, seemed surprised.

"Miss Courtenay, you came by yourself?"

"At long last," she smiled, sheepishly. "It took me the better part of the month to convince my mother. She's wound up tighter than my auntie's girdle. But I'm sixteen now, and I'm only going to get older. Whether she admits it or not, I think she's realizing the futility of fighting time."

Theo—the walrus man—grinned mischievously. "Your bodyguards are waiting outside the door, aren't they?"

The smile shrank. "She's realizing it very slowly."

Theo laughed a genial laugh. "It's a mother's job to worry," he motioned over, to an open table. "Don't be too hard on her."

Once Eva was seated and given a menu, a raucous racket erupted from the table next to hers. A couple older ladies were deep in conversation. From their manner of dress, she pinned them as richer, likely from the upper echelons of Alvany. Each wore their own color, and devoted themselves wholly to it.

Pink-Green-Blue-Yellow-Purple.

"Have you looked at the morning papers?" Pink fretted.

"Another rebel encampment got wiped out," Green added. "Some bluecoats were wandering the woods and came upon the ruins."

Eva turned to avoid suspicion, placing her eyes back on the menu (now oblivious to who was saying what).

"Do they know what's doing it?"

"I've heard it's a beast."

"They said the majority of bodies weren't in one piece. There were teethmarks in the flesh of some, and others were razed to bits in a way no sword could manage."

"Bluecoats use guns."

"I know. It's certainly not them that's doing this."

"I think it's a werewolf."

"Oh honestly, Marge! Are you still in primary school?"

"Well, at least it's only attacked rebels so far. Seems to have a predilection."

"Or a distaste."

"Maybe it'll turn its appetite to those vagrants littering Baker. All they're good for is defecating in the street."

Eva's brow twitched.

"And copulating. Why just the other day, I came upon two. The alcove they chose was in direct public viewing!"

"It's not all of them."

"Oh, it may as well be!"

Eva zoned out.

And when she zoned back in, it wasn't much better.

"There are plenty jobs open," she tied the voice to Pink. "They're just uninclined to take them! If a person can't be bothered to work, I have no sympathy."

Probably a housewife with no kids and twelve maids, Eva guessed. In her next glancearound, she noticed the woman's hands. Yep. They look like the hands of a twenty-year-old. Hasn't done a day's work in all her life.

"And really," Blue was gearing up now, "these are the sights my grandchildren have to see, going to and from school. It's disgraceful." She paused to accept a few nods of approval. It stoked her bluster. "Some are missing eyes, limbs, covered in vomit and flies. The poor children are probably traumatized!"