The whispers of the Archive

11: The real Miss Fifer

Weighed down by her guilt over Miss Fifer, Eva's wanderlust for the archive all but vanished.

Instead of perusing the endless isles for more knowledge, she sat down at the long desk, rested her head in between her arms, and fell asleep. The only useful thing she learned during slow weeks was that if she fell asleep in the library, she would truly lose consciousness. When she woke up again, she would wake up in Ardenshore, a few hours having passed.

It was a similar but different pain than what she went through when her father and mother died. Im that situation she had all the mind to pity herself, blaming her family's downfall on the cruelty of fate. She was the victim. But I'm this case, it was Eva who had done something wrong, perhaps even unforgivable.

Consequently her thirst for knowledge was replaced by thoughtless repetition.

It was a sunny day on the roof spent dyeing peonies a variety of different colors, when Eva turned around and caught Dylan staring at her, again.

"What!" She tossed a black poppy at him, the flower bounced off his pale skin.

Dylan abashedly looked down at his elegant long fingers, not the hands of a working man, but no less skilled. With his eyes full of earnest determination he said, "Let me paint you."

His handsome face was painted in a golden hue by the sun, his eyes were like glistening pools. If she was being honest with herself, she had fallen in love with him. But if she was being even more honest with herself, they didn't stand a chance. Perhaps the old Eva, the third child of the wealthy Hartley family could have been his match... but she was long gone, never to return. So she chose not to acknowledge her feelings. After all, If she kept them locked away for long enough, they would shrivel up and die.

"Alright," she nodded, a resolute smile on her plump lips.

"And..." he hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Let me follow you around today."

Eva's bright smile dropped into confusion, "What, why?"

Dylan's eyes twinkled with sincerity, "If I'm really going to capture you in paint, I need to live a day in your life. I'll become your shadow and helper for a few days. What do you say?"

Eva frowned, trying hard to picture this cultivated young man following her to scrub the floors of the pub. Truthfully, she didn't want him to see her like that. She was about to refuse but Dylan abruptly stood up and covered his heart with his right hand, a display of the utmost sincerity and earnestness in Ardenshore.

"Please, Eva," he said,  his eyes sparked like the sun glistening on the waves. Eva could only sigh; he'd won her over, again.

"Fine."

Delighted, Dylan gave her a grateful bow.

"But first we need to do something about your clothes." Eva shook her head at his pristine cream suit and crisp white shirt.

A while later two young men left Eva's building. The shorter boy, had a scruffy look to him with his fingers dyed black, and his dark unruly hair barely kept presentable under an old cap. Strapped on his back was a wooden barrel with a cloth covering the top. The other boy was two heads taller. He was very neat despite the patchy trousers and stained shirt he wore. If one watched him for a while, they would quickly discover his superior posture and gentile style of walking that stood out compared to the other residents of Saltspindle.

Dylan was surprisingly calm about Eva's sudden transition into a boy. She guessed that he must have seen her leave before in her brothers clothes.

"I can't believe no one is staring at me," Dylan scanned the people around them.