How did you get here? In the epiphany of failure as your head rang agonisingly. Lights from the unknown powered down around you. And you, stuck in the centre of a hazy nightmare.
Was it a nightmare? Or was it the unforgivable reality? As the powerful hands grasped around the neck of the one you hold so close to your heart, draining the life out of him with each passing second.
Your gaze plunged into darkness, the only thought in your head, was how the hell did you get here?
March 1868
"Come on [y/n], we haven't got time to lounge around in bed all morning," The heavy set curtains were drawn, pouring in the orange hues of light from the dewy sun.
With a groan, you threw the linen sheets over you sleep weighted eyes, which soon was torn away, allowing light to power down painfully on your eyes.
"Now, [y/n]!" The voice scolded once more, forcing you to rise from your mattress with a grunt, "You are not missing your picnic with Mr Matthews,"
Your eyes cracked open against the blinding sun rays and gradually adjusted to form your mothers features. She looked very much like yourself, but a lot more matured in her years.
"If Mr Matthews is to marry me, then he will have to wait as long as it takes for me to wake up and be ready," You sighed loud enough for your mother to hear, despising the fact that she went ahead with planning who you are to marry.
"Mr Matthews will wait because he's a gentleman, but he won't be pleased, you should aim to impress-"
"Impress? So I cannot be myself? What sort of life would that leave me with?" You exclaimed distastefully. Your hatred for marriage was purely caused by the need to set a good reputation and act unnatural. What was wrong with saying as you please and acting how you want?
"A life of a good marriage and security to your status and wealth," Your mother began to lose her patience as her voice rose, "Just ready yourself child, you have no say in what has already been arranged for you,"
Once she exited your room, you fell back against your duck feather filled pillow with an exaggerated sigh. Why marry for the sake of security? What was wrong with marrying for the sake of love? With a shake of your head, you readied yourself to merely keep your mother at peace.
A dress of baby blue silk adorned your bodice, accentuating your curvaceous, corseted figure with a slight bustle at the back. Your mother insisted you wore your best dress, to 'impress' Mr Matthews and to represent your wealth. If it was down to you, you would have diminished the many layers that buried your frame and weakened your ability to breathe, and replace it with a simple chemise dress or a shirt and trousers.
And so you continued to please your mother by trying to 'impress' Mr Matthews. Through his constant ramblings, you tried, with all your strength, to surpass your yawns and act interested.
You nodded and smiled to make it seem like his boasting about his business was even an ounce intriguing. But in reality, as you sat on the blanket, a sandwich between your fingers and the spring Cambridge sun powering down upon you, you couldn't give a damn. All you wanted was to rid yourself of his presence.
You was utterly relieved when it was time to separate ways, and as you closed the door to your house, your head fell back against the door with a heavy sigh.
"Thank god for that," You said quietly under your breath.
Your mother appeared suddenly from the drawing room down the hall, a letter in hand which was dismissed shortly as your mother asked about your day.
"I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than spend another second with that man," You said, with a brutal honesty that made your mothers smile fall quickly from her face.
"Well you better grow to like him as you will be marrying him soon enough," You rolled your eyes at her persistence.
Her hand then outstretched as she held the letter out towards you, "This has come for you,"
Brows furrowing, you took the letter and opened it hesitantly. It was very rare that you received any letters, so as you tore the envelope open and read each scribble of the letter, you read it carefully, trying to make some sense of it.
Your eyes widened and lifted to your mothers questioning eyes.
"Father had passed away...I'm going to London,"
YOU ARE READING
Assassin's Creed Syndicate: Diametric
Fanfiction[Jacob x Reader] During a time of great oppression, a time of invention, a time of great supremacy to the more wealthy, you learn that despite being a rich girl from Cambridge who once looked down at the poor, that even the poor need to be free. You...
