Savior

Mysteries and Possibilities

Juliette:

I paced fiercely through the room, back and forth, up and down, completely agitated. What was wrong with August? Stopping in front of the mirror, I glared at myself. A petite girl with dark brown hair and gray eyes that matched the moonlight stared back, furrowing her eyebrows together in frustration. He’d never been like this before, not ever; so why now? Furling and unfurling my cousin’s lace fan in my hands, I continued to parade around the cluttered room, trying to decipher my friend’s cryptic words.

A door slammed shut somewhere in the house and the shrill wailing of Annabelle carried up from the first floor.

“Oh Mother, it was mortifying. Lord Severnshire has already chosen his son’s bride to be. Why in name of all that is holy would he host a ball for all the eligible ladies of Newcrest when he already knows the wench that Nathaniel will marry?” she cried, anger spewing from her jealousy. I could just see her now, her blonde hair tousled and her beautifully tailored gown tarnished as she threw a fit, demanding her mother to change what could not be controlled.

“There there child, Nathaniel must be feeling your loss considerably.” My Aunt consoled, her usually prickly tone now sickeningly sweet.

“He better.” Annabelle sniffled as I rolled my eyes. Nathaniel was very lucky to have escaped a union with the likes of her.

Suddenly, a thought hit me so hard that I found it difficult to breathe. The embers of curiosity from Augusts’ words turned into an insurmountable fire of anger, licking away the pits of my heart. If it had anything to do with my aunt, I thought as I heard the thin, resounding sound of a crack of the broken fan. My Aunt, Mrs. Betoyne, had tried tirelessly but without avail to shatter the friendship between August and I.  She just couldn’t bear the thought of someone being acquainted with aristocracy and not falling for the temptation of their money; it was something that she had never understood and never wanted to understand. The length of my strides increased, fury at my “family” coursing within me.

Minutes later, the squeak of the wooden door distracted me and I snapped my head up, glaring at an equally frustrated Annabelle who stomped through the door. Hell hath no fury like Annabelle scorned.

“Annie, you wouldn’t happen to know if Aunty has spoken to August would you?” I asked tentatively as she rummaged through her belongings.

“Oh yes Juliette,” she mocked sarcastically. “I know everything that is going on in your life because I have none myself to worry about.”

“Glad we’ve finally sorted that out.” I threw back, equally irritated.

“No alright? I don’t know.”

Hours later, I continued to lay awake, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Could August just be pulling a prank? What if he too had fallen for my Aunt’s words? Or could it have to do with his strange behavior around me recently? After all, Peter Parkinson had only asked me for a dance a few nights back, not a marriage proposal. It had seemed to annoy August though and he had vehemently argued with me about it. And the way he looked at me had also changed- I just couldn’t place my finger on how.

“Juliette,” a shrill voice mumbled from a dark corner of the room. “Go to sleep.”

“Alright Annabelle.” I grumbled, lying back down on my bed as I cracked open the tiny window by my bedside to fall asleep under the stars and in the embrace of the gentle wind. Leaning up a little from my comfortable position, I stared out at the darkness beyond the four walls of the Betoyne home.

From this height, I could easily make out the sea, tumbling and mysterious, its waves crashing, hiding a secret. Then, as if it had been constructed of mist itself, a large ship loomed out from the darkness, halting a few miles off the Newcrest beach. A dark mast whipped in the wind and a single light shone aboard. Must be the merchants I thought with a yawn, closing my eyes and letting my mind drift to the possibilities of tomorrow.