Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 36
Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt: Use “Better late then never.”
Nathan finds out what in the boxes.
Click here to start from the beginning
Part 36
“What do you mean they’re mine?” I asked.
Blythe shrugged. “That’s what the workmen said.”
The crates were nondescript, simple, crude wood constructs. No address or transport seals marked the rough surfaces. What could they be?
“Did they say who sent them?”
“They didn’t know.” Blythe raised the pry bar hanging from his belt loop. “Want me to crack it? Wouldn’t want you to muss yourself before tonight and all.”
Ignoring his taunt, I nodded, too curious to take his bait. Blythe wasted little time torquing the lids off both containers. The nails gave way with a jarring creak.
Fortunately, everyone present gave me space as I approached. I pulled handfuls of straw out to find what lie within. It didn’t take long. A set of familiar locksmithing manuals saw the light once I’d dusted them clean.
Next I unearthed a scarlet sash with the Monarch’s emblem at the seam. The kind a young nobleman receives when being presented the first time at court. After that I freed a small picture frame from the packaging.
“What’s all of this?” Samantha asked.
“It’s my personal effects from Victoria. My father must have finally sent them.”
The pictograph in the frame was a portrait of myself and my brothers. We were young boys then, not even been to court. Being forced to sit still for the image to be burned onto the plate was arduous at our age. Young noblemen were expected to be miniature adults, a ludicrous idea. My mother was aghast when we went running outside afterwards, tromping in the mud and ruining our clothes like little vagabonds. Back then, Finn, Thomas, and I were inseparable. Long before we’d learned to treat one another as rivals.
“Better late than never,” Blythe said.
“I suppose so.”
I continued to sift through my possessions as they dredged memories to the surface. The last several weeks in Francine had been so filled with drama and new experiences, I’d all but forgotten about the impending shipment. I think I’d written off my father’s statement of sending it all as a platitude to send me off without additional complaints. Even so, there wasn’t a lifetime worth of items between the two crates. I knew better than to except much more.
“Did they send a letter?” Harston asked, ever hopeful.
I hid a slow, cleansing inhale. “I haven’t found one so far.”
“Perhaps it’s just buried.”
“That would be nice, but I doubt my father would allow anything of the sort.”
“You don’t know that for sure—”
“It’s all right, Harston. I’ve made my peace with that.”
Had I? I wouldn’t admit such a thing, but I couldn’t be sure. Every object from my past I touched brought with it a story, not all nightmares and horrors. My life after the apothecarian visit may have been filled with harshness, but there were many years I could call happy.
I truly wished a letter would surface. As bitter as I was leaving Victoria, reading the words of my mother would be a godsend. What I wouldn’t give to read a few lines of her immaculate penmanship. Bits of gossip from the other noble houses? Her machinations to find my brothers suitable wives? I’d had no contact from any of them since I left, but in all fairness I wondered if they were waiting to hear from me first. I’d certainly made no effort. Given with how things ended, should I have?
My eyes welled as a longing from my homeland and family weighted my chest. As horrible as they could be, they were still mine, and I missed them for the first time since I boarded the carriage to the airship. And it felt like a betrayal of my heritage.
I started, sucking in a mouthful of air as a gentle hand gripped my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” Samantha asked.
I’d almost forgotten I had an audience. Slapping on my best facade, I stood up tall, discreetly wiped at the corner of my eye. My voice was less steady than I’d hoped.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I reached up and patted her hand for effect. “Just a bit misty over my lost things.”
Samantha didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t contest me either. At least she held respect for me, not like my father.
Who, strangely enough, I found myself missing as well. How twisted was that? Was the prospect of being ingrained into the decadence of Delaga House frightening enough to make me nostalgic for the man who openly showered me with disdain? My new environment may have grated on my sensibilities, but was it severe enough to make me pray for Arthur Valencus’ approval? I doubt he was capable. And why now after finally seeing a few baubles of my past?
No wonder Victorians kept their internal struggles to themselves more often than not. We weren’t equipped to face it. Our skills lied with burying our pain and proving ourselves immune.
And if this conflict wasn’t bad enough, my least favorite person appeared, possibly attracted to the noise.
“Nathan, Rother wants you in his office right away,” Vivian said.
“Right this instant?”
“That’s what he said.”
Samantha’s brow arched. “And Rother trusted you with this errand.”
“It’s been known to happen.”
Before any more could be said, I ended the conversation. “It’s all right. I’ll see what he needs.”
Wanting an escape from my packages, I made a quick pace down the hall and to the stairs. Vivian followed me close, bouncing on the balls of her feet. It was unnerving, as I imagine she planned. I couldn’t imagine what Rother would want that would include her presence as well.
By the time I reached the office, her proximity frazzled my nerves. I didn’t even bother to knock as I opened the door.
“You wanted to see me…” My words drifted away at the sight before me.
Rother sat in his chair with a young man on his knees, face first in my husband’s lap.
Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs
