The Kingdom of Night (Book 3)

Resilience

Now: Henry ('the Duke'). This one was a long one, folks. He turned into quite an interesting voice to write for, because of his relationship to Huntley. Not only that, but his similarities to Emma, which is very clearly defined here. I'd like to think it establishes a bit of a 'bromance' between them, although I'm not sure if that's even the right word. You'll also see his (nearly) instantaneous feelings for Charlotte. And the Spanish Flu is where it culminates, and takes many characters that have already appeared. But even to this day, the pandemic is one of the deadliest in history. Above: Matthew Goode, pictured here as Henry Talbot in Downton Abbey.

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August 1905

Henry

They are dismantling my father's machine today. I know they have every right to do it. My father destroyed lives, killed people, and took advantage of many others with that awful contraption. He is dead, and has been for at least fifteen years. And yet some of the grudges the Order holds against him are still strong. Such as the one against me.

A knock on my library door disturbed me from my thoughts. I turned from the window and found my butler, Hanson, looking in. 'Yes?'

'The Viscountess of Burnham to see you, Your Grace.'

'Show her in, Hanson.' I remembered the Lady Burnham. She, along with the Earl and Countess of Dorchester, were possibly the only Elementals to show me kindness. But perhaps that was because they knew what had really happened down in that cave. I had been just a child then, safe and shut away in my adoptive father's manor. And yet his misdeeds were projected onto me, an innocent bystander, as it were.

I bowed to her as she entered, her two children following a few steps behind.

'Your Grace,' she said, inclining her head towards me. She used a cane, on account of my father. He had crippled her so she couldn't escape, shattering her knee and damaging it beyond repair. But today, her limp was barely noticeable and I almost forgot it was there.

'How nice to see you, milady,' I said, pressing my lips to her gloved knuckles lightly. 'Certainly a pleasure.'

'I was only passing by on my way back to the city, and thought I would visit.' Her hand tightened on the head of her cane. 'I apologise for my husband's absence. He is dropping a piece of the machine off the Dover cliffs, or some other place.'

'How is the dismantling of the machine coming along?' Not that I was overly curious, only that it was a symbol of my father's madness.

'Quickly,' she said through a sigh, her eyes restless and grey-blue as they drifted out the window. 'We all know how Arthur Kingsley...sorry, Lord Radford...feels about it.'

Her contempt was reasonable. I was an exile of the Order, and had been for ten years since the council convened and decided my fate. Her husband, the Viscount, had attempted to counter the decision by voting in my favour. But by an overwhelming majority–quite possibly persuaded by Kingsley–I was pushed out and stripped of all Order protections and privileges.

Lady Burnham then shooed both children out to the hallway, telling them to wait there, and turned back to me. 'There is something I must speak to you about, Your Grace. It involves my dear friend Emma.'

'The Countess? Yes.' I had taken to her instantly the first time I'd met her. She had a quiet grace, beauty, and power about her, one that pulled anyone nearby into its orbit. The Countess had also been the one to kill my father with his own invention. That at least saved me the trouble of doing it myself.