Magikal

~Magikal Chapter 1~

Copyright © 2013 PoisonedBlythe

All rights reserved

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Chapter 1: Chaos

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London, England

1900, near the end of the Victorian Era

“Lady LaBelle! It’s time for school!”

School.

That was the last place Lady Calanda Dea LaBelle wanted to be. Calanda let out a groan as she stretched, her eyes trying to focus. She could see the molecules of dust that floated in the air as the light shined through the gap of her heavily draped windows, the golden light shone on her face; clearly the work of her maid.

“Here’s your breakfast milady, Master Nathaniel will not be pleased if he hears another remark about Lady LaBelle being late to see her governess.” Her maid chided as she placed the silver tray onto the table where a lamp resided along with Calanda’s all-time favourite book; Jane Eyre.

She stared at her ceiling for a moment more, taking note of the different swirls and brush strokes, finally at her chandelier lights. She slowly sat up, glowering at her maid.

“I shan’t be late then, Cynthia. You know fairly well that I’m alright with rushing at times like this.” Calanda retorted as she slipped off her bed, wishing that her maid would leave her alone so she could run into her en suite instead of having to put on an act of walking gracefully to it.

Stand tall. Stall confident. Be firm, chin up. She remembered those words from her never-ending etiquette lesson about being a proper lady. Her father always thought she lacked femininity, if that was a crude way to put it.

“Mademoiselle! Master Nathaniel will not be pleased to know that you’re preparing your own clothes again! He dislikes the way you dress yourself-” Cynthia admonished.

“Because it’s not prim and proper.” The black-haired lady interjected mockingly, mimicking the tone her father always uses.

“And you ought to finish your toast and cup of tea; it’s getting cold.” Her maid said sternly, a smile tugging at the end of her lips.

“Yes, mother.” Calanda snickered, picking up her cup of tea and taking a sip of it, making extra effort to make sure her pinkie was not curled up around the cup holder. She was not keen to attend another lesson about tableware.

She wondered idly if her classes would be any different from the last. Surely nothing would change, she would always be ignored but frankly she would rather someone make a snide comment about than pretend that she wasn’t there at all.

“Jesus -”

“Watch your mouth, milady!” Cynthia scolded, pulling her corset tighter.

“Pardon my French then.” said Calanda sarcastically. “At least attempt to not strangle me when you’re helping with the corset?”

“Sorry milady, a horrid habit of using too much strength I must rid of.” Her maid smiled sheepishly.

The petite woman rolled her eyes at her saying, her attention focused on fixing her hair to perfection with a top knot bun without a strand loose; just the way the society liked it. She simply could not understand why they wanted to strangle the living daylights of themselves with those tight corsets and pinch their toes with those shoes or pin their hair so tight that it might threaten to fall off like a wig.