Quisling

No place like London

Before

It began Thursday.. During our morning prayers.

Father was at the end of grace when the rumble of my stomach caused our Icebox to erupt. The maids were covered in eggs, milk and whatever meat they had prepared for supper- A now distant prospect due to my empty and impatient stomach..

For weeks similar occurrences plagued our abode. Father was convinced the divine could intervene, fix whatever was broken but nothing seemed to stray the... incidences. By the end of the following month Father had hired multiple Priests to cleanse the Estate, Mother said it cost a small fortune..

Then the owls came.

It began with one; it's face shaped like a heart with beige and brown feathers. His soft hoots and large amber eyes seemed directed towards me. I tried to ignore him, often skipping my afternoon walks and reading indoors.

"It's but a Barn owl... Nothing to worry." Madam Luke smiled, her pointer beckoning for attention; tapping against the small board in the study.

"But it is January.. they are out of season-"

"Nonsense!" She huffed. "The weather does not stop these creatures from existing Miss Blackwood. It only detours their visits." She nodded; Satisfied with her response.

Daphne Luke was a proud woman of eight and forty; her long, faded brown hair decorated in a swirled bun. Gold wire rim glasses fitting in the pivot of her long nose and pride expressing itself at every turn it could.

There was nothing more satisfying to her than proving a point.

And I knew better than to push her patience; Even as I gazed at the fourth Owl to nestle itself on the Silver Birch outside our home. By the beginning of February our Estate became known as a hot spot for said creatures- Passersby's stopping to feed them like wild pigeons at a park.

"Perhaps it is the mice?" I asked one time during lunch, this made mother spit her beverage, specks of tea escaping. This set my anxiety high- My own tea cup cracking, even though It was not within my grasp.. Father continued to glare out the window, ignoring the chaos as a maid rushed to clean the mess.

"Do not speak of rodents during meals- It is unbecoming." Madam Luke scolded, her eyes strained by my constant ignorance while also ushering me out the room. Even as we left I could feel the tension growing during Fathers prolonged silence. Something was amiss- That I knew.

March came, and so did the letters.

Arriving every other week- A tinted envelope, with a bloodied seal. I was not permitted to look at the posts and Father grew more and more strict these days..

Each week was sunnier than the last. Spring had come early this year- Flowers blossomed just steps from our door and Mother hired more help to Garden the grounds. The Owls still came, Just hidden behind the brush and housing themselves within the roof. I'd grown used to their low hoots that strangely grew more emphatic during my strolls.

The sun had begun to set, hints of honey tinted clouds filling the skies.

Just as I turned towards the Estate a hoot loudly sang, its long wings soaring towards me with something clutched in its beak.

Another letter, only this one was coming straight towards me.