𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ⚜ l͏o͏r͏d͏ t͏e͏w͏k͏e͏s͏b͏u͏r͏y͏

7.

Sibyl was now fleeting down the hallway basically dragging Tewkesbury with her by his suit sleeve. Her words were ragged as she tired to speak between rapid breaths, she rounded the corner into the secluded part of the mansion which was known as her father's space. Not many dared to roam here, as her mother was still undecided on what to do with her fathers working spaces; or maybe because she didn't want anything moved because it was one of the last physical things they had left of him.

Tewkesbury scrunched his nose at the dust which was covering the walls and other various objects. He quickly dismissed it as his attention was drawn away by Sibyl starting to talk more clearly, no longer staggered from her past rapid breaths.

"First, we will stay the night, it is far too late to venture back out." she started with a saddened sigh that she couldn't rush away on the adventure she had imagined in her head. Tewkesbury on the other hand had a thrilled shiver rush up his spine from the fact her finger were still clinging to his suit sleeve. He could feel her delicate fingers tugging it downwards and gripping it when she began to talk to get his attention, however his attention never really left her.

"I will say goodbye to my mother in the morning, I'll tell her a marvelous story." she said with a small cunning smile playing at the corner of her lips. Her fingers fell from his suit sleeve as she took a step back bringing her hand to her chin in thought.

"For now, I'll need to pack a trunk for the journey. Something for everything." she said with a click of her fingers. Tewkesbury's eyebrows furrowed slightly, unsure on why she would need an outfit for every occasion. Sibyl looked Tewkesbury up and down subtly as he pondered in a confused yet thoughtful daze.  She didn't want to waste a single moment of time so she just turned on her heel, her dress fanning out and brushing against Tewkesbury's legs.

He blinked a couple times as the wind of her turning around flowed over his face and her dress skimmed his legs when she turned on her heel. He watched as she walked graciously down the hallway but there was a bounce in her step which showed her excitement as she tried to keep it concealed. Sibyl was finding it hard not to run to her room and start furiously shoving clothes into her trunks, but she didn't want to seem over excited and childish. She had already pulled him down this hallway hurriedly when she should've just walked simply with him. Of course these thoughts came after everything, they always did.

She was surprised he hadn't followed her however she was basing this off the fact she couldn't hear any footsteps. She wouldn't dare look back at him, that would seem as if she was swooning over him, which she wasn't. Well not entirely, she had to admit she was fond of his presence and friendliness.

She soon made her way to her room, the gigantic mirror still there to which she rolled her eyes at it as if it was her mother. She found that it resembled her mother, inquisitive, showing everything off, gloating at it's own marvelousness whilst trying to reflect on everyone else.

A sigh fell from Sibyl's as she passed the mirror towards the corner of her room where her trunks were neatly stacked. She grabbed the first trunk and walked it back to the centre of her room before kneeling down to open it.

It was dusty on the inside but it wasn't severely terrible. The last time she had used them was her last trip to London with her father. Her lips quivered at the thought as her fingers ran over the edges of the trunk where her name was engraved. Her chest moving up and down rapidly as Sibyl gasped for some air whilst her shoulders trembled.
She managed to clamber to her feet but her legs were so weak she nearly collapsed back down instantly. She shifted herself over to the window before dropping down onto her knees once more. Her vision started to blur with tears which she loathed.

Sibyl didn't ponder on her fathers death often. It always seem to come as shock, possibly from the fact she isn't confronting the anger which is sealed behind the tears. As of now she was beside herself in anguish as her finger fought to open the window with a harsh push of her still bloody palms.