The Heartsmith's Daughter

Chapter 1.

The tinny clang of the door's bell sounded out, breaking the dusty stillness of the shop. I looked up to see a well-built man framing the entrance, his immaculate red suit and top hat glowing in the sun's setting glow.

"I'm ever so sorry sir, but I'm afraid we have just closed." I flicked my eyes away from his face out of respect. No commoner would dress in such a fashion, and I would hate to agitate him any more after denying his service.

However, he simply shook his head. "I'm not here to buy jewelry dear. I'm here for your father's services." He made no effort to hide his enunciation.

"Evangeline!" My father's wiry voice called from the backrooms. "Please kindly tell the customer that we are no longer offering our services for the day."

"Oh?" the elegant man asked, raising a blond brow. "And does this include the heartsmithing services that I hear are also offered here?"

A tuft of unkempt brown hair, streaked with grey poked from around the corner, followed by the wrinkled face of its owner. He made a quick nod to me, which I returned, moving to lock the door and draw the curtains tightly. With a motion of his hand, he invited the man to follow him further back, while I stayed dutifully behind. Sighing, I grabbed the old broom from the closet. So much for his help with tidying up, and a peaceful dinner. With his work often taking hours at a time, I would be lucky to share breakfast with him in the morning.

What could the man possibly need a Heartsmith for? While each circumstance was different, most people's hearts were built to interlock with a soulmate of the same social class... Could it be? Perhaps his soulmate was that of a common girl, and his parents didn't approve, so they coerced him to visit my father to force him to marry a rich girl? Oh how tragically romantic. They were destined for each other, and yet- A few shouts from the back wrenched me out of my thoughts.

Making my way down the hallway, I pressed my ear against the final door.

"But sir-" my father was explaining, "If you don't at least have a diagram of the other girl's heart, I can't possibly arrange your own to match it."

"Well, I can't get her diagrammed without it looking suspicious."

"Then, as I explained before, you'll simply have to bring her here."

The doorknob began to rustle against me, and I pulled myself away and busied myself with rearranging an askew portrait on the wall. A respectable woman should never eavesdrop, after all. The man made his way out of the room, mentioning that he would be back soon as he left out the shop's front.

"Ah, there you are my dear." Father smiled up at me kindly. "Would you mind tidying up by yourself, and lighting the candles? Oh, and don't wait for me at supper. It's going to be a long night."

"Do you know any of the details as of yet?"

"Not entirely... but!" His face grew an excited look. "From the looks of it, he's going to need his fourth fluid vessel replaced, and it's the one!"

"You truly believe it will be compatible?" I asked with wonder. We had been searching for that very part for years.

"Have you ever known your father to be wrong?"

Midway through my lonely supper, the man returned with a pinch-faced girl, who was anything but a commoner. If her skirt had even one more hoop I don't believe she could have fit through the door.

"This is the very Heartsmith I was telling you about," the man explained to her, although she barely seemed to be listening. "Cliffton Foster."

"That's all very well and good, but who is this plain-looking girl?" She asked, tossing back her long, black locks before gesturing at my own with the bridge of her nose.

"That would be Evangeline Foster," I answered curtly, making sure to keep my own shoulders back and head high. Just because I wasn't born into her status didn't mean I needed to act like I was anything less.

"Well, that aside," the man interrupted, "Cliffton here asked that you could be brought in to have your heart and key examined along with mine. He claimed that it is impossible to forge them to match, without being able to see them both."

"They need to see my heart?" the woman cried incredulously. "I don't want that filthy girl's hands anywhere near my heart."

My hands began to curl into fists, and I went to reply, when my father gave me a stern look. I couldn't anger the customer, as this was quite possibly the only chance to get the fluid vessel. Instead, he replied, "I can assure you, Miss, that she will take no part in the process."

"Very well. Lead me to this so-called workshop of yours then," she responded haughtily, following my father to the back rooms once again, with only the man staying behind.

"I do apologize for my fiance's first impression. I can assure you she often has a better temperament." The man sighed.

"That is your fiance?"

"Indeed. What do you think I asked for your father's services for?" He paused for a minute, and I thought he would move on to follow the others, but instead, he removed his hat, revealing the slick, blond hair underneath. "I know that we are all supposed to go on to find our soulmates, but, even though our keys don't match, I truly believe she is the one. The sound of her laugh, the way she dotes on me, you might not have ever felt that feeling to understand, but something feels right about this. So, I decided to seek out the infamous Cliffton Foster so that I could take my fate into my own hands." He sighed once again, before seemingly falling out of his wistful state. "Oh dear me. I do believe I rambled too much to you. I'll stop talking your ear off now, and actually follow through with it all."

Even once he left, I couldn't imagine that woman being his soulmate. He seemed so kind, even with his obvious wealth and power, while she... Perhaps he was right. I have never felt for someone in that fashion before.

For my love of romance novels and the young couples that always came to seek out the Heartsmith, I had never experienced love before. At least, not anything more than affection for Father. But- he had said that the man had the right fluid vessel. Maybe the idea of falling in love with my soulmate wasn't too far-fetched.

I made my way up the staircase and into my room quietly, shutting the door behind me. Removing first my bodice, then overskirt, and chemise, I pulled a thin nightgown over my head. As my reflection caught in the vanity across from me, I stopped. The simple necklace chain, now exposed from its usual hiding place beneath my dress front, sparkled in the whimsical candlelight, the golden wind-up key dangling off the end. I drew myself up to the mirror, gazing deeply into my hard, hazel eyes. The man's fiance was right. I truly am a plain-looking girl.

I pulled some of my glossy bronze locks back from my neck, revealing the golden-rimmed keyhole embedded within. Inserting the key in place, I wound up the lazed springs and loosened wires connecting to my heart, for whatever little I had of it. It always filled my body with a warm, relaxing sensation, one that I was always disappointed when it ended with its small click echoing within my body.

As good as it felt, I had to wonder if it would feel even better once my heart was finally completed. I placed my hand lightly over its place, catching my reflection in the mirror once more. For reasons unbeknownst to any doctor, I had been born missing most of the pieces to it. I had had enough cogs to keep myself running, but not enough to even feel the emotion of love or find my soulmate, and according to my father's expertise, not nearly enough to keep myself ticking past my twenty-first birthday. Granted, he had been able to find more of the parts due to becoming a Heartsmith, dangerous as it was, but... with my designs unable to interchange with any common pieces, it was rare that he could find just what he needed.

Finally laying myself down to bed, I tried to quell my own fears. Father never would tell me how many pieces I was missing, I suppose it's because he doesn't wish for me to be anxious, but perhaps this fluid vessel could be the final part. The only thing I knew for certain was that my birthday was coming quickly, and one that day, my heart would cease to wind again.