The Pureblood Princess | Sirius Black

|99| Speaking of Secrets

With a steadying breath, Flora Fawley stepped out of the familiar marble fireplace of her childhood home, dusted off her canary yellow robes, and braced herself for the judgmental look that was sure to be plastered onto Cathryn Carrow—no, wait—Cathryn Fawley's face. They'd been married for ages, but Flora still had such trouble remembering that small little distinction. And no wonder, with the mocking sneer, etched into her once pretty, once lovely features, Cathy looked exceptionally Carrow-like that evening.

Of course, if anyone was ever entitled to be a total toad, it would be her... after everything she'd been through...

Being back in that house, back in the cool marble walls of Fawley manor was always difficult. She could almost hear Alexander's voice as he whined, begging Filip to let him hold 'Laidy Bug' while Cathryn gently swaddled the softly cooing infant in her arms. She could almost smell the gorgeous floral arrangements Cathy used to keep in an effort to give the place a homey warmth that had been lacking in her own childhood.

But those tender sibling moments had been effectively ripped out of existence; the flowers long gone.

All was quiet and cold now.

The once youthful, cheerful faces of Cathryn and Filip were now warn and sullen, as they peered back at her.

"Lovely to see you again, Flora..." Cathryn drawled, looking her up and down.

She had a rare talent, that woman. She could communicate her disdain much more effectively with a glare than words could ever articulate.

However, Flora chose to ignore Cathy's unspoken censure of her 'abominable' fashion choices as she absently exchanged the usual pleasantries, mind wandering back to her afternoon with Adelaide only a few hours prior.

She couldn't stop thinking about the way that sweet girl fiddled nervously with her sleeves whenever she'd say something too candid, how she'd shrink into herself, as if she wanted to disappear, when someone would look at her too long, and the faint flash of disbelief on her delicate features whenever she was complemented... Flora wondered how many disapproving looks, how many little scathing comments Cathryn had to have given the poor girl growing up to make her feel so incredibly self-conscious.

The thought alone made Flora want to hex that toad right on her bonny ars—

"How was your afternoon?" Filip asked, leading her toward the dinner table with a knowing look.

No matter how many years passed, Filip always seemed to know when his little sister was secretly plotting to hex someone.

"It was absolutely wonderful," she beamed.

And she meant it, too.

Truthfully, Flora didn't know what to expect of the girl when she walked into the tea shop. The way Cathryn described her, one would have thought her as some beautiful rebel who wore a leather jacket to hide the chip on her shoulder and went around knocking over old lady's as they tried to cross the street—the way Filip spoke of her, one might have imagined she was a moody, tragic prodigy caught in the wrong crowd and prone to rash outbursts.

But in reality, Adelaide was nothing short of a delight. Kind, funny, smart, with a deep abiding love for her friends... and as if that wasn't enough, she was gorgeous — the spitting image of her late grandmother...

"We chatted for a long while," she continued, taking a seat in one of the high backed chairs at the end of the table where Mimsy had already laid out their meals. "Then we walked around a few of the shops—I got her a new cauldron like you asked, Filip— as well as these socks that—"