Haze [unfinished]

i. Arrival in London

Warning: This story is not for the squeamish. If you are uncomfortable with blood, gore and sexual themes, this is most likely not the book for you.

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It had felt like forever since Marie had been in London. She had forgotten the ways of her mother's people after living in France for so long. She was struck with deja vu as she entered her mother's manor, foot on the wooden floor of the foyer. She could smell melting wax and the cheap perfumes of lamb fat the maids would wear. Underneath it all there was an aura of sadness and musk. With this feeling Marie's stomach tied itself into knots upon knots upon knots until she felt a sad sickness.

A heavy hand was put upon Marie's shoulder. Raphael watched his daughter with sad eyes but nevertheless forced a smile but it never reached the crinkles of his eyes.

"Marie, mon cher, I'll have the maids show you to your room. Do not worry of your luggage."

Raphael's accent with thick and oozed of a Frenchman. Marie nodded to her father, despite her back being to him. The saddening aura of the house filled her with the inability to speak. Not even to her own father.

Raphael removed his hand from Marie's shoulder and ordered his butlers to take Marie's luggage and the maids to take his daughter upstairs.

"Right this way, Miss."

A chubby middle aged woman ushered Marie to come with her. Her greying brown hair was stuffed in a little white bonnet and her apron was stained with dirt and wet with melted snow. She had kind eyes. She seemed to be the kind of woman to pass sweets out to anyone no matter their age.

Marie gave a half-hearted smile to the maid and followed her up the grand cedar steps.

"Ya' room is just up on the third story. We've just been a finishin' fixin' up that room so you have the whole East wing to ya'self."

"Thank you. I'm sure it will be more than sufficient."

The chubby woman gave a hearty, warm laugh. Marie and the maid continued bounding up the stairs to the third floor side by side.

"I sure do hope so, Miss. We heard you live with em' Princes up in the Frenchlands. Pretty sure you get more fancy treatment there up at em' castles, din't you, Miss?"

"I'm sure the treatment here is just." Marie responded with a small voice. Unlike her father, her accent was not thick and French but indeed English.

"What a treat ya' gonna be. Ya' got a husband yet, Miss?"

"No, ma'am."

"Well Imma sure ya' ain't have no problems findin' a nice boy. Them boys can't say no to a gem like ya'."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you to say." Marie responded. She was mournful in her response, but this went unnoticed by the maid.

"This is it, Miss."

The maid turned the handles of the white doors and flung them wide open. Marie's room was large and had the English charm she had remembered from a child. It was nothing like her room in Dauphiné. The French had fancied overly cluttered luxury silk patterns and gold, however the plain Englishness of Marie's room was refreshingly beautiful.

Straight ahead of the entrance there was a large canopy bed with soft pink sofa at the foot. The bedding was white with little pink daisies strewn along the comforter perfectly matching the same pattern of the canopy fabric. There were marble side tables with oil lamps, windows all around and to the left a bookshelf wall with every book you could ever imagine. There was a soft blue carpet patterned with fine gold threading.

Marie was baffled by the simplistic and open beauty of the room. She made her way through the room, feeling everything she could until she reached a second set of double doors.

"What's this?"

"Why don't ya' open it, Miss?" The maid said standing by Marie.

With a swing of the doors, a beautifully large closet was revealed. On the right side of the closet was completely lined with the finest English silk and cotton dresses of the latest designs, shoes of the highest quality and jewelry worth thousands. The left side was left completely empty for Marie to bring her own French designs. In the middle of the ridiculously giant wardrobe was a vanity complete with three mirrors and a pink cushioned stool. Marie's face was lifted into a bright smile as she ran her hands over all the dresses.

"Mon dieu! It's beautiful!"

"I'm glad ya' think so."

By then the butlers had brought up Marie's luggage and trunks, setting them by the sofa at the foot of her bed.

"Would ya' like unpacking, Miss?" The maid asked.

"No thank you. I should be quite alright on my own."

"Aw'right. Well, dinner bein' served at six'o'clock, so you best wash up. Ya' father invited some guests you'll wanna meet."

"Thank you for all your help..."

"Esther, Miss. Esther Landry."

Marie smiled and gave a shallow nod to dismiss the maid. Esther smiled and headed out of the bedroom, closing the doors behind her.

• • •

As dinner came, Marie could hear the guests in their carriages pulling into the gates of the manor. She leaned out and watched peacefully out one of her windows overlooking the gardens. She could hear the welcoming of young ladies and gentlemen and the whining of horses.

"Marie?"

Marie turned her head towards her bedroom door to see her father poking in.

"Are you ready? The guests have arrived."

"Yes, father."

Raphael smiled at his daughter and lent out his hand, gesturing for Marie to join him.

"Vous êtes belle, mon cher."

He was right. Marie truly did look beautiful. Her dark hair was intricately pulled back into twists that met in a thick bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a blue silk dress of French design. It had a low square cut and long sleeves appropriate for the evening. The dress lay more flat at the front and tended to be more billowed and dragged at the back. It was simple for a noblewoman and only had a white frill at the bottom. Her silver jewelry glinted in the candlelight and the sapphires shone much like her eyes.

As Marie was accompanied by her father downstairs to the dining hall, arm in arm, he spoke to her softly.

"Are you alright, Marie? I know your mother's unfortunate departure has been heavy."

"I'm quite alright. I know she watches over me from a better place."

Raphael smiled. He knew his daughter was built with sorrow from the inside since the news of her mother's death.

He leaned into Marie's ear and very softly spoke.

"I have invited three very special guests tonight, two of which being Ethan Frye's children."

Despite still having her arm in her father's, Marie stopped dead in her tracks as they almost hit the ground floor. She was sure Ethan's children had gone into solitary after Ethan's death, but there her father was, telling her Jacob and Evie Frye sit at the very dining table she was.