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rosesnink · 4 years ago

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The Cursed Heiress, Chapter 8: The Panther and The Prey

A/N: Ladies and gents, this is by far the longest chapter written, but I swear I have someone else to blame, heh. Today, in this chapter, we have a special guest who agreed to a collab... the one and only, the myth, the legend, @hellospunkiebrewster !!

Summary: Joanna readies for the opera and the company of the hideous Duke Richards, but will some far more alluring gentleman steal the attention?

Word Count: 19.439

Rating: T

TW: Violence, unwanted advances, language, nakedness

Joanna groaned as Mr. Harper asked her who she will marry. Hasn’t she made herself obvious?

“Look, Mr. Harper, you know that the laws won’t let me marry a mortal. It’s ill fated and the human in question would get killed and I’ve seen enough death. I will remain a fair maiden until I have figured out how to get rid of this archaic English custom. I will find a way for both Edgewater’s fate and mine where we both win. Then I will talk to Aunt Nya about how to proceed with Elias… whether if we’re at war or we can make this nice and easy, without blood”.

He nodded before a gasp interrupted them both. Joanna was quicker than Mr. Harper and grabbed Miss Sutton’s wrist “Now, now, future sister, haven’t you heard is rude to eavesdrop?” She spoke coldly “How I ought to trust you and embrace you as a sister when you do this filthy action towards someone who showed you nothing but respect and warmth?”.

“I-- My heavens, I was just” She shrieked when she grabbed her jaw, making their eyes connect “Don’t hurt me!”.

“I won’t. Mr. Harper, ensure that no one else eavesdrops” The man nodded before guarding the door as she rushed her inside with one step, her hand on a bit of sand “Now, Miss Sutton, you have never listened to any of this. In fact, you have never been here during these past minutes. Your mind was wandering over visiting your dear neighbours and have tea with them. You will say to Countess Henrietta that my father hasn’t written any letter to me. You will spend the rest of the week focused on wedding stuff, as a bride-to-be should be. You will tell Countess Henrietta that the only thing I’ve been doing is preparing myself for the opera and read books to ease my mind on such an honour as it is to attend the opera house. Now, take this sand with you and tell Mr. Marlcaster that you lack of sand of your own to dry your letters” She broke the embrace and the enchantment and Miss Sutton left rapidly, wondering to herself how she ended up there.

“I guess that owning vampire blood haves its perks” Mr. Harper chuckled.

“The only thing I do not own is their hunger for blood and thank the Goddesses for that”.

They both chuckled before Joanna sniffed some essence she thought gone…

Thomas’s essence.

She rushed towards the door, where a box was laying there. She grabbed it with ease and rushed towards her room. She took a deep breath, her heart racing fast before she had the first item in her hands: a nightshirt. Thomas’s nightshirt.

She buried her nose on the delicate fabric, remembering and embasking herself in that essence many times. She closed her eyes, remembering that magical day where her maidenhood would be a little secret.

15th of June, 1813, Grovershire.

Thomas and Joanna took their usual walk together, laughing and talking about the dullest and most random things. Thomas seemed a bit more mischievous than usual, looking both ways and with something she couldn’t quite name.

“Hey, Jo, how about if we go to the lake? I’ve got a surprise there for you only, my soon to be wife…”.

“What is it? I hate surprises”.

He smirked before driving her there. She looked at him with eyebrows lifted “Thomas Merlin Coleman, what are you scheming?” She demanded to know.

He smiled at her “You’re about to find out… now” With that, he untied his cravat and shrugged off his jacket. Joanna was surprised, her mouth a small ‘o’.

“Tommy, what—” She wasn’t often left speechless.

“Take off your petticoats and your dress. I will hide them while you watch if someone’s spying us”.

She did as he said, watching like a hawk. Then, he beckoned her to swim in the lake. She did as he said all the time, swimming to places she wasn’t aware of. Then, she followed him underwater, where a little hole was there, only having place for one person at time. She went first, observing how easy it was to her to swim. She saw a light and followed it, where a cave illuminated by diamonds and other stones and jewels were there. There were also pixies and many wondrous things. She looked back, where Thomas was smiling widely. They searched the surface and lay down. She realised she was only on her corset and chemise, her skin showing off her legs and arms.

“Thomas, what is the meaning of this?”.

“I… want to propose you something. We both know that we’re not regular common folk and you want to feel alive with your mother’s illness”.

“Thomas, what do you mean?”.

He looked at her, his eyes dark with desire and eternal, loyal love “I want you, Joanna… if you will have me during these past two hours we have left. One word… and I will be all yours”.

Joanna ponded her thoughts as she thought of how attracted she felt to him and how she had thought about how he would be with her. She had a chance and she loved Thomas. She wanted Thomas, and he wanted her. She was ready. He was ready. It was dark, beautiful and perfect.

“Thomas… kiss me and don’t hold back”.

In a moment, their mouths collided, now with a new rhythm. Their hands roamed everywhere the layers of clothes allowed. She pushed him down the floor as she tried to undo her corset, giggling out of awkwardness. Thomas grabbed one of the knives of Joanna’s collection in the leg and with one movement, the corset fell! Joanna gasped “Tommy!”.

He shrugged, his cheeks flushed. She lifted her chemise and for a moment, she felt free. She was bare before him. He took her in before stand bare before her, taking each other in. Thomas wasn’t impressive as she saw in the statues, but he was still beautiful. His body, still not harmed by mankind, milky and with a boyish touch, was beautiful to her. He kissed her, whispering to her how beautiful she was, how splendid she was, how incredible, how godly she was, driving her mad. She kissed him over and over, how she lay back, their bodies getting to know each other, slowly and without a rush, sometimes giggling. Their stares never wavered from the other, memorizing every part of the other, as if, deep down, they know they’d part from the other. She remembers how every inch of her body awakened, how she arched, squirmed, shook and gasped at every touch, his hands never leaving hers, whispering how much he enjoyed worshipping her, adore her, love her. She remembers how she could reach the stars, her whole body brushing them. She remembers the three words she cried out: I love you.

They both reached that sensation and looked at each other, wide smiles on their faces. He kissed her forehead, his eyes illuminated by the light of the diamonds “Of all the jewels here, you’re the most precious one for me. I cannot wait to be your husband and repeat this, on our own terms and bed”.

She placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb caressing his skin “Me neither, Tommy”.

“I love you so much, Jo. Never forget that”.

She kissed him “I won’t”.

She shook her head as she kept observing the items of his: the same cravat he wore on their engagement dance, some journals for him to write if Joanna ever fell pregnant, some designs for their house and cribs for the children, his letters to them… everything they planned, now all gathered into a box, knowing that it would never become true.

Joanna wiped away some silent tears and shook her head, knowing what he’d have to say, like Thomas himself whispered the next words to her

It’s not easy, but the world needs you. Humanity needs you. Do what must be done and then you will be able to grieve. Afterall, you have an entire eternity to do so.

She got up, hiding the box under her bed with an illusionary spell and rushed towards the stables, now determined.

With a spell, she got a letter for him:

Dearest Father,

While I’ve met quite fascinating people and enjoyed myself at times with various men, I have not received any proposals yet and I think it’d be best to await a few days to ensure that we both win this battle.

So far, the progress I’ve made is going to the opera with the Duke of Karlington, whose company is questionable, but I thought you’d like to hear it.

Give me more time to find the right man. Afterall, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Your loving daughter,

Joanna.

With the letter prepared to send, she opens the stables’ door… to find Mr. Woods holding Briar’s hand! She smirks before hiding in a shadow, giving them their golden minute.

“It had been my hope that I would see you here” Mr. Woods said, with his utterly whipped face. Joanna shook her head amusingly.

“Does that mean that you were thinking of me?” Oh, boy, he absolutely was! I cannot read his thoughts but I can feel his heart thumping and threatening to go out!

“Every day since your carriage left” I have no doubt on that.

He glanced up, but at the sight of nobody, he kissed Briar’s knuckles and then her wrist. Joanna couldn’t help but to giggle. He quickly dropped her hand and looked away, blushing.

“Joanna! I hate when you do that!” Briar spited.

“I have to say, sir, I didn’t know you had it in you, but I’m not complaining. I want someone bold to protect Briar for what I can’t” She chided, a playful smirk on her face “That said, you two are adorable”.

“My lady, is nothing like—I meant Miss Daly no disrespect”.

“I know you don’t. On the contrary, I would’ve figured that out sooner and wouldn’t own hands. If you’re truly courting my Briar… go ahead, you have my blessing” She looked at him now serious “But if she sheds any tear because of you, I will torture you in many unhuman ways” She pointed a finger towards him. He shuddered before she broke into a smile “That said, I request your services for a personal aid”.

“Joanna! We talked about this!” Briar said, scandalized. She looked apologetically at Mr. Woods “Apologies. She tends to be like this with me since young girls”.

He cleared his throat, now his expression professional “What do you need of me, my lady?”.

She held the letter and told him “This is a letter to my father. I don’t want anyone, and I say anyone but him, to read it. It contains important information and no one must even touch it. I know you’re a honourable one, however, I cannot risk anything” She grabbed his collar and looked at him in the eye, now channelling her vampire compelling “You will hide this letter to your best hidden place in your reticule and will not allow anyone to even have a glance at it. Back in Edgewater, you will give my father this letter without no one getting in your way. You will do what you must so no one but the Earl of Edgewater reads it first, not even my grandmother. Then, just then, you will go away of the manor and will have completed your task and forget that I told you these words” She released him “Excellent”.

“I will do it, m’lady, but I have other letters to deliver from the earl before I can go”.

“I’d hoped that perhaps you could stay a little longer” Briar pouted.

Joanna arched an eyebrow to her and shook her head.

With a glance at Joanna, Mr. Woods took both Briar’s hand in his “I wish I could stay… but I’d best set out now if I’m to make my deliveries before dark”.

“I’ve heard when London goes dark it can get a bit nasty”.

“Well… why don’t we all go!” Briar smiled.

“What?”.

“To make your deliveries! I’ve hardly seen any of London but this house. Oh, Joanna, you don’t have anything planned before the opera? Wouldn’t it be fun to go riding together?”.

“It would if you actually knew how to ride a horse in first place” Joanna remarked with her bit of sass. Briar smacked her in response.

“You know what I mean!”.

“Hmm” Joanna thought about it “I could accompany you so you don’t get too cozy and to stay away from these insolent mortals before I rip out any of their heads… I could use some air, I’m in”.

“Great! Let’s see what we’ve got” She snatched the letters as she read up “There’s one for Viscount Westonly… One for Mr. Chambers… Oooohh, one for Mr. Sinclaire…” Of course, they’re as thick as thieves.

“You’re certainly welcome to come with me, Lady Joanna”.

“Have you heard that, Clover? We’re going on an adventure!” She called her horse. She neighed happily.“Someone needs to watch you for you both and secure your good name and reputation, Briar”.

“Hah! As if you could stop me”.

“Oh, I only need two movements to do so”.

“Do not worry for Miss Daly’s reputation, my lady. I would not do anything to dishonour her”.

“Then I shall be quite disappointed…”.

Mr. Woods’s eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed as Joanna laughed loudly, Briar following with a hit of giggles.

“Oh, boy, you killed the poor guy!” Joanna doubled in giggles.

Mr. Woods waited as she prepared her horse with experience. She rubbed Clover’s nose as she nuzzled her neck “I know, Clover. I’ve neglected your delightful company shamefully enough. But you need to behave!” She puffed in protest “Less protesting, more behaving. You are a lady’s horse”.

Clover pranced as she boosted herself to her saddle with ease and agility “Briar can’t ride as I mentioned it earlier. You both ride together, but those hands where I can see them!” She glared at the couple.

“I promise, my lady—” Mr, Woods started.

“That was actually directed to Briar” Joanna cut in, arching a brow to Briar. She smiled mischievously.

“No promises”.

She shook her head as Briar commented “It would be much easier if I don’t ride on my own…”.

Colour comes to Mr. Woods as Briar sidles closer to him and his horse.

“You should know by now that I own a great nose and an excellent pair of eyes. You’re not 15 anymore, Briar”.

“Trust me, I am aware” She stick her tongue out and Joanna shook her head.

She eyed Briar with a playful smirk as Mr. Woods offered his hand to help her up in front of him. She settled back against his chest with a contented sigh. They all ride out of the stables and turn the horses’ noses downtown.

“First delivery is just down the road…” Mr. Woods announced.

Mr. Woods cleared his throat, trying to make conversation as Briar allowed her head to rest on the crook of his neck. Joanna observed them with curiosity “It, erm, was such a small town where you grew up, then? Did you walk everywhere?”.

Briar’s lips quirked into a half-smile “A dozen houses, a hundred chickens and miles of hayfields”.

“Tell me about it. I want to imagine you as a little girl, growing up with the chickens”.

“Which ones, the boys she courted or the real chickens?” She teased.

“Hey! Not all of us can find such a dreamy guy as your Thomas!” She huffed “Much less elegible enough to agree an engagement”.

Mr. Woods’s eyes went wide open! “You are engaged? Secretly engaged?” He asked, trying not to sound indiscreet.

Joanna took a deep breath “He died when I was 18. He was such a precious, lively man…”.

Briar gave her a comforting smile “Wherever he is, I know he is proud of you”.

She half-smiled at her before focusing on the ride without missing a thing about their conversation.

Suddenly, she recognized Mr. Sinclaire’s voice down the street and couldn’t help a small smile, thing that didn’t come unnoticed from Briar.

“Lady Joanna?” He sounded half surprised and half delighted.

“The man I was hoping to see! We’ve got a message from my dear father. Mr. Woods, if you’d be so kind?”.

Jumping down the horse with a flawless agility, she handed him the envelope and gave him a clean smile “Here”.

“I’m surprised to see you running errands” He commented.

“Eh, it was that and watching the scamp—yes I’m looking at you, Briar!—and have some fun on my own or go absolutely mad with Countess Henrietta and do something I might regret later, even if I intended the damage” She looked at him and smiled coyly, running a hand down his forearm “That… and daring to run into your dashing self”.

“So you have”.

“And I’m the shameless one?!” Briar pouted.

A moment passes before she hears a wolf’s growl behind Mr. Sinclaire. Her head jerks up and screams “Beware!” And grabs Mr. Sinclaire fast enough to shove him away and grab the wolf’s neck, grabbing the man by the collar.

“Let me go!”.

“After what you’ve tried to do? I don’t think so” She clutched the filthy fabric and scowled “You’ve made a mistake if you think you can prey on him of all men”.

The wolf laughed “And what will you do, eh, gorgeous?”.

She got her face closer to his, showing her amber eyes, a lethal expression on them “The unspeakable. Things that you thought abolished and gone. Read my lips, as long as I live, that man is under my protection and neither of you will lay a hand on him and if you do nonetheless… I’ll kill you all. I don’t care who you are, I will come for you”.

“My lady!” Mr. Sinclaire was surprised, even though he couldn’t fully see her eyes.

The man got away from her steely grasp, his eyes wide and shaking “I-I-I—better go”.

“Joanna is not the kind of woman who pledges her protection just to anyone!” Briar said to Mr. Sinclaire, her eyes wide “You are a lucky man, having someone like her there to protect you”.

He turned his attention to her “My lady, can you please explain what happened?”.

She looked at him “He was a nasty man who meant big harm to you and I got rid of him and his gang with this warning. I know you can hold your own, but there are far more dangerous here and you will need my aid. So swallow your pride and scowls and accept my help” She glared at him, approaching him carefully.

He stood firm, but then softened his features and nodded “It wouldn’t be the first time a Foredale pledges protection over a Sinclaire as history recalls… You must be the first woman pledging it to a man, however. But I will accept it, for the good history of our families”.

“See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” She gave him a comforting smile “And as much as I enjoy our conversation, I mustn’t keep Mr. Woods any longer. We’ve got more stops in the road”.

“It was a pleasure to see you, Lady Joanna”.

She turned back to mount her horse… But she had other plans. Before Joanna could stop her, Clover nudged her head hard enough to make her tumble and wobble, stepping on one of her knives and falling to Mr. Sinclaire’s arms! She curses in Native American.

“Are you alright?”.

“No harm done, except my pride and dignity” She remarks sarcastically “That said, Clover, you’re grounded. No more ridings unless necessary and I will limit Lu—ahem, Mr. Harper your clover diet” She crossed her arms and her horse neighed sadly “Don’t but at me! You should’ve thought it before. The damage is done now and you will pay the consequence of your actions” She said firmly. The horse neighed in protest as she mounted her “You will behave now or shall I be prepared for you to throw me off the saddle?” She asked. The horse didn’t say anything “Good. Apologies for my horse’s behaviour, sir. I guess I’ll have to snag more hours of training with her and the Master of Horse”.

“Your horse is as wild as you, Lady Joanna”.

“Is that a problem to you, sir?” She defied him, a playful smirk on her face.

“None at all”.

“Good to know. Will I have the pleasure to see you at the opera Saturday?”.

He doesn’t answer as they ride west. Joanna frowns as Briar starts speaking again “What of you, Mr. Woods? Do I get to hear of your childhood? Or will you only allow Joanna to mock mine?”.

“I was actually born in London. In the East End. Both my parents worked in the new manufactories there”.

At long last you catch an interesting man, Briar.

“You grew up in London? But you sound like a country gentleman!” She commented.

“My parents wanted me to have a better life, so they sent me with my aunt in the country”.

“Was it a big change for you?” Joanna asked.

He smiled with affection “She was like a mother to me. Taught me to speak properly, to write and read, so I could get work at Edgewater like my parents dreamed”.

“Do you miss your family?”.

“I see them sometimes, but they move house often”.

Mr. Woods shrugs, scanning the numbers of the houses again “They’re proud of me. I have a good job at Edgewater. Maybe I’ll be able to bring them out of the country one day”.

“When I am countess, I’ll make it happen first thing” Joanna vowed.

He looked at her with wide eyes and then gave her a grateful nod “Thank you, my lady”.

In a few moments, they dismounted as they arrived to the next house on their delivery run, the Viscount Westonly. Joanna groaned as she grimaced at the thought of the fool.

“Eh? What is this all about?” The Viscount asked. Joanna had to hold her tongue against her sarcastic comment

“A missive from the Earl of Edgewater, sir” She told him.

“What? He scowled “The girl from the hedge porter? Never met her!”.

Joanna sighed, trying not to grab him from the collar and shake him until his deafness were truly gone “The Earl of Edgewater, my lord! He sent a letter, news maybe”.

“The girl has a new baby? Well, it’s not mine!”.

“Trust me, no woman with wiles on earth would have a baby with you” She muttered in in Japanese “He said that the baby is definitely yours” She looked at Briar with her usual ‘I’m done with humanity’ face and told her “I hope that’s false, that poor woman deserves better, whoever she is”.

“Is he always like this?” Briar asked.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know…” She cringed at the man and shook her head. Sigh, humans.

She walked back to the horses, with Briar looking incredulously at Viscount Westonly.

“Isn’t that the one who’s looking for a—”.

“Fifth wife? Yes. Please don’t tell me you’ve stooped that low to be interested” Joanna looked at her with disgusted eyes.

Briar recoiled and looked at a horrified Mr. Woods “I should think it would not be worth it, even to become a viscountess”.

“Never! I would prefer to be as poor as a church mouse and be with the man I love” Briar smiled.

“I hear you, sister” Joanna agreed.

She smirked satisfied as Briar and Mr. Woods’s hands found each other and walked back to the horses, hand-in-hand.

At the next house, she pulled the bell cord for Mr. Chambers, but Mr. Konevi answers himself! Joanna’s eyebrows go up before smirking “Hello, handsome. What are you doing here?” She batted her eyelashes and he flushed for a brief moment

“Uh, good day, my lady…”.

Mr. Chambers came behind him, still straightening his cravat. She noticed his pants undone as she snorts, a knowing smirk on her face “Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something interesting?” She was enjoying this, maybe too much for poor Mr. Chambers’ good.

“Ah, Lady Joanna! What a surprise” Indeed. I never expected to cockblock you, my dear friend “I didn’t realize… Were we… Ah, Was I expecting you”.

Joanna did her best not to laugh “No sir. Apologies for coming unannounced. If I knew you had such a dreamy and handsome company, I could’ve come later” She winked at him with a complicit smile. Both men flushed furiously as she muffled a chuckle “I have a letter from my father. Here”.

“V-very good. Very good. A letter. Yes, indeed. Thank you”.

She whispered “Also, your pants are undone. While you don’t have anything I haven’t witnessed before, I’m walking with two poor, clueless virgins. Now, now, we won’t bother you any longer with your… important meeting that will last long. Farewell, you two”.

“We-we were just—I—That is to say…”.

“Oh, don’t worry, I get it” She mouthed “And support it” She came back with her voice “I will not deprive you of your dreamy company any longer”.

He cleared his throat “So nice to see you, though, Lady Joanna. Perhaps we will be seated next to each other at the opera this Saturday”.

“Now I have something to really look forward to when I’m in” She lowered her voice “And tell me more and openly about him” She nodded towards Mr. Konevi with a smirk.

“I, uh, will keep that in mind”.

He starts to close the door, but she puts her hand on it, besting him in strength and waves the letter “You forget something”.

“Yes! The letter”.

Mr. Chambers took hastily the letter and shut the door closed. As Joanna walked back to the horses, she and Briar looked at each other before breaking in giggles!

“What do you think was going on there?”.

She patted her shoulder “One day I’ll tell you”.

“Tell me now!”.

“I’ll give you a glimpse: something that even if it’s amusing, it’s none of our business. That means no gossiping about it” She looked at her.

She sighed “Fiiiiiine”.

All too soon, they arrived back to the townhouse and Mr. Woods looked apologetically at Briar with the sun turning low to the sky “I really must return to Edgewater now and get Lady Joanna’s letter to the earl as quickly as possible”.

“Indeed” She nodded.

“Perhaps we should put Lady Joanna’s horse away” Briar said, saddened.

Joanna took the hint and nodded “I’ll leave you two to say goodbye properly… I know the sentiment of letting go of someone you’re… fond of” She chewed her lip, remembering the uncountable goodbyes she said to Thomas when he had to run errand to the same city she was stepping on right now.

She got out of there and went upstairs, the memories rushing her, making her heart ache for a brief moment.

21st of July, 1813

Joanna approached the man who was saddling the horse, focused on the task at hand: sell as much pigs and vegetables as he could. It wasn’t his first time, but the errand was important because he’d be aiming to the nobility. She slid her arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder, leaning on the embrace. He hummed happily as he swooped her in his arms, kissing her lips chastely “Hey, you. Come to say goodbye to me or Bellefleur?”.

“Mmm, both” She kissed him again, grabbing his shoulders, getting him closer to her as he grabbed her hips and deepened the kiss “How I will miss this”.

“Me too. I’m already missing you, in fact”.

“Mmm-hmm?” She smirked.

“Yes… I’m already missing your hands grabbing my hair, your scent, your little gasps when I kiss that spot on your neck, or laying on your lap as you read those books…” He bit his lip.

“Mmm, kiss me more then”.

He laughed before kissing her. They were so consumed on the kiss that didn’t notice Thomas’s younger sister “Eww. Mama! Tommy and Jo are being gross again!”.

They both looked at each other wide-eyed and then to the brunette girl before breaking in giggles, Thomas placing her head on his chest “Sorry, Gertrude. We didn’t notice you. Came to say goodbye to your old, boring brother?” He knelt down and opened his arms. She ran towards him and hugged him tightly. Joanna smiled lovingly to them “Come join, Jo. You’ll be part of the family too soon”.

“Only three more years and I will be Mrs. Coleman” She beamed.

“And my new sister!”.

He caressed her face and then stroked discreetly her stomach as he whispered “And maybe the mother of my children”.

She placed a hand on his cheek and her little head “I would not have it another way”.

She wiped out a few tears before standing up. Today she needed to be strong, and not because of Duke Richards.

She read the message again:

You will be expecting an ambush tonight. I do not know when or how, but be prepared. -Aunt Nya.

She opened her closet of weapons and started to pack up some of them.

That night, Briar was folding her sheets, sighing occasionally as she glanced out to the window toward the road of Edgewater. Joanna looked at her with a quirked eyebrow “So, what are you and Mr. Woods exactly?”.

Briar put down the sheet and picked at the stitching on the lady’s bed hangings “I don’t know… I mean, I like him. And my parents would consider him a good match”.

“But?”.

“I just don’t know that I am ready. Not until you have made your decision”.

“Briar, you don’t have to pause your passions for me. Go, live the love life that was denied to me when Thomas died, and don’t you ever hold back” She placed both hands on her shoulders.

“I want to go with you if you leave Edgewater when you get married. I can’t do that if I’m married”.

“Ah, ah, once I’m married, if I do get married, you will be free. You won’t serve me anymore and the world will be yours” She caressed her cheek.

“Thank you, Joanna. I just… don’t know yet. Even if it sounds tempting, I don’t know yet”.

“It’s alright to not know yet. Need I to remind you how long it took me to say yes to Thomas?”.

They both chuckled “We were all waiting for your yes during those eight months. He was highly patient”.

“He was” She smiled.

“Now, let me see what you decided to wear for the opera”.

“But… it’s not even Saturday yet, Briar!”.

The night of the opera Miss Parsons bustled through the front door, dressed in nightwear and carrying a large basket “Joanna!”.

“You look astonishing” Joanna smiled.

“And your new dress is absolutely exquisite. I brought you a little gift. Some sort of… surprise”.

She noticed small heartbeats and some small, recent lives in that box “What on earth have you brought me?”.

Before she could say more, she heard now clearly a funny whine coming from one of her baskets. Joanna arched an eyebrow “That’s an animal’s whine”.

The blanket on top wiggled and she saw a curly tail poke out the back, wagging frantically. She dashed towards it to discover a small pug! The pug looked at her and she couldn’t help but giggle “A puppy… and an adorable one no less!” She placed her hand in front of his nose and allowed him to meet her smell “Come here, you adorable little thing”.

She reached down to help the pug puppy out of the basket. He gnawed at her fingers with his little, stubby, harmless teeth. She laughed at the tickles. He growled and Joanna laughed harder “I see. You are a little, fierce warrior, aren’t you, cutie?” The dog yipped in agreement and she chuckled.

“Oh, I’m so glad that you like him, Joanna! My pug Rosie had puppies a few weeks ago, and my sister is saying she absolutely will not keep them in her house another moment”.

“Why wouldn’t she? These puppies are a far better company than the man we are about to meet at the opera’s doors”.

Miss Parsons frowned “She keeps threatening to send her groom to dump them in the park the next time I go out”.

“How vile! To think that such a cruel human being is your sister…”.

“I think she might do it. And it would just break my heart”.

The puppy showed her his best hurt puppy face and Joanna felt a soar in her chest. Miss Parsons rolled the puppy onto his back and mussed the fur on his belly. Joanna watched with a loving face the adorable scene “I’ve found homes for most of them already, but this one’s my favourite”.

She let the puppy go and he ran towards the door on his stubby legs, barking fiercely “Mm, yes, you’re a ferocious little one, aren’t you?” The pug barked in agreement.

“I so want him to go to you. Then I’ll have even more reason to come over every day”.

She looked at her with a knowing smile before observing at the dog. Then, she broke into an intimate smile “Of course I will keep this little blessing. Thank you so much, Annabelle”.

She knelt by the puppy, keeping her skirts pulled aside and joined Miss Parsons rubbing his belly. The puppy wiggled ecstatically “I wanted you to have something to remind you of me. Even if my family succeeds in marrying me off”.

“They won’t. Not in my watch” She caressed her cheek “I could never forget you, not in seven lifetimes” She smiled at her “You know, giving an animal to someone you care for is a love language in my other culture”.

“Truly?”.

“Yes, it is. You’re giving me a piece of your heart right now”.

Their hands met, fingers touching across the puppy’s fur… the moment is broken as a wet tongue laps at the women’s twined fingers. Joanna chuckles.

“Now all he needs is a name…”.

Her mind raced with many names, most of them matching his fierceness “Yes! What do you want to call him?”.

“Hmm, I’ll call him… Darcy” The dog yipped delighted “Do you like that, Darcy? Do you?” The dog ruffed in response happily. She allowed the puppy take her hand in his little teeth and pull it back in a tug-of-war and she laughed loudly.

“That’s a perfect name for him. He definitely looks like a Darcy”.

“Indeed you do… yes you do”.

Briar came into the room and dropped on her knees the moment she saw the puppy “A puppy!” She quickly gathered him in her arms, not worrying about the fur on her clothes.

“This is Darcy. Would you be so kind watching him while we’re at the opera, Briar?”.

“Do I mind? I finally have a reason not to be jealous I’m missing the opera!” She beamed. She dangled one end of her handkerchief for the puppy to pounce on “Well, go ahead! You don’t need me, do you?”.

Her cat -who was in fact a hidden dragon- smelled the new furry companion and meowed in protest before hissing at Briar, who stepped back for a moment. She scowled “This wretched thing is always trying to kill me!”.

“That is just Jaskier for you. The only thing he loves is food and making humans bleed”.

“Well, then how is it that it hasn’t tried to hurt you yet?” Miss Parsons asked.

“That is a long story for later…” Her attention drew back to her cat, named after a rather flirty and handsome bard her mother met back in the Medieval Era and who she kept having sexual-affectionate encounters during twenty-five years until his eyes went elsewhere. The dragon took over the old cat’s identity and belonged to Mary’s kin since then. Her eyes went wide when the devilish thing meowed at Annabelle affectionally and his head brushed her leg, thing that Annabelle laughed about “How is it possible?! That damned thing hates every walking human on earth!”.

“He doesn’t hate Miss Parsons, apparently. Wonder why, though…”.

Joanna observed her, now interested on her and her only, studying what must be off of her. She noticed a different aura, something beyond human of her… She was about to do the harmless discovery spell when Miss Parsons herself woke her from her trance.

Miss Parsons looked out the window “Oh! Prince Hamid just pulled up outside!”.

Her heart raced in anticipation as she remembered the secret they shared now. A big one indeed, she might add.

“Go! Hurry. Your dress looks gorgeous, Joanna. Your mother would be proud that you’re able to pull up to her old opera house looking like that. And driven by a prince, no less!” She beamed.

She followed Miss Parsons to the door and the dog followed them faithfully. Joanna stopped and looked down her pug “Sorry, Darcy, no puppies at the opera” The dog complained. She stepped towards the door, and Darcy followed forlornly “Ahem, Briar?”.

“Come here, Darcy…”.

The dog whimpered as Joanna shook her head with a smile, heading out with Miss Parsons.

She and Miss Parsons rode in Prince Hamid’s luxurious carriage “You both look stunning this evening. It seems almost a shame to wear such a magnificent gown to a darkened theatre”.

Joanna shook her head “You make it sound like a silly decision. Although, I have heard that the patrons get a review and same with the performers”.

“And I’m certain you shall receive only the highest praise” He smiled “I do hope the show we still hold your interest after we ruined the opening for ourselves” He smiled at her in complicity, a secret, intimate smile.

“That was now a memorable day”.

“I should be pleased to recite with you again the words if you’d like”.

“Without you is rather dull”.

“And what have you been doing since we saw you last, Your Highness?” Joanna noticed a slight jealous edge on Miss Parsons’s voice, and she felt her leg brush hers, as if for reassurance “More meetings with Parliament?”.

“Indeed. Though the old men are worse than market gossip, and far less likely to conclude their business”.

I can hardly envy you.

A shadow crossed Prince Hamid’s face “I am shamed to say I even heard them talking of you the other day”.

Joanna scoffed as she shook her head, her fists made balls “Of course they did. If those snipers bite their tongues, they will drop dead by poison instantly” She scowled.

“I do not wish to ruin this evening, but you should know some of the peers are saying you are not your father’s blood”.

“What?”.

“They said you were nothing but an opportunist, taking advantage of a poor old sentimental man”.

“Tell me the names of those snakes. I will rip off their tongues and burn them alive. To think they dare to insult me!” She slammed her fist against the seat and cracked a small hole open, making Miss Parsons and Prince Hamid gasp! Her eyes went wide and gave him an apologetic smile “I will pay for that” She took a deep breath “However, I think that Countess Henrietta must do this, but she’s not alone. She’s got Miss Holloway, Bowman and Sutton real pegged. Utterly despicable”.

“Of course, I spoke out on your behalf” Prince Hamid smiled. She gave him a grateful smile.

“Thank you. I will remember that”.

He smiled at her with a special gleam on his face “I told them how well you know your values and the others’, as well as how honest you are and you are as your father’s blood as anyone else and more” He gave her a secret smile and she smiled at him back “Not to mention your fairness and sense of justice” She smiled grateful at him. He smiled back and leaned on the small space between the carriage seats, his knee brushing hers. Her pulse quickened, but her composure remained still “And impeccable taste” he added.

“I really appreciate it” Her hand brushed his for a brief moment as she told him in his head “Your opinion means the world to me”.

His eyes went wide before he regained his composure, trying to hide his blush. She smirked at him “I may not be able to read thoughts, but I can talk in them. We call it telepathy”.

He was still unsure of what to say and changed the subject before Miss Parsons could suspect a thing “You know your father was kind to me when I arrived to this land and knew nothing, right? I would defend his honour as well as yours”.

“I don’t doubt it”.

“There will always be people who are small-minded and jealous” Miss Parsons commented.

“Indeed” Joanna agreed.

“But the rumours can’t have gone far if the Duke of Karlington invited you to share his box tonight”.

“In which damn language may I say that I do not want anything of that wretched man? I don’t like him and I couldn’t care less about what and who he is. I do not want him and I will never do, even if it’s the year 2018 and my life depends on it. I rather starve to death” She scowled “That man is not to be trusted, much less among young women. He is insisting too much on my company and there is no man on earth who does that without wanting something in exchange and I will not fall for that. I am not naïve” She crossed her arms “Tonight will be the last night I am his companion in the season, and if I have to do a blood pact to assure it, I will. And so should you, Miss Parsons. Many women had been found dead or ruined forever because of men like him and you know it. You both do”.

Prince Hamid and Miss Parsons shared a look. She was right. They both knew she was right about him and men like him and knew that the lady would not bother to hide her feelings towards the man. They’ve spent enough time with her to know that Duke Tristan Richards of Karlington wasn’t and would never be of her liking. And, deep down, it relieved them that she expressed it so.

As Joanna looked outside the window, she felt the prince’s eyes on her. She knew what he was thinking, his body language told her so: about that day at the opera, how their lips almost touched, the secret she shared and the entire yearning of the other. She finally looked at him “I will show them that I am a true, respectable lady, even if it means spending time with a wretched, stinky man”.

When they pulled up from the opera house, Duke Richards was pacing. At the sight of Prince Hamid helping Joanna from the carriage, his face tightened into a scowl. Joanna couldn’t help but to roll her eyes.

“About time you got here, Your Highness. I thought you’d miss the whole show” Duke Richards said. Joanna looked at him like he were the most foolish thing on Earth. Oh, wait! He actually was.

“Do I have the time wrong? The show doesn’t start for more than half an hour” Prince Hamid was utterly confused, but Joanna knew why he said that. She whispered to Miss Parsons

“Poor old man, he was hoping he’d fuck me there before the show. He really thinks I am that foolish because I’m young, huh?”.

Miss Parsons’ eyes went wide at her affirmation “Why would you say that?”.

“Just to let you know: it is lust culture for older predatory men to invite young women over to dark, crowded places sooner than usual to take them there. This is a trend that has been going on in France and now word has spread. My mom told me about it. She found out about it when a big deal navy officer tried to force her back in Paris. She tore him apart, though”.

“Oh, my! That must’ve been horrible…”.

“Eh, it helped when she ruined his reputation”.

“So were planning to claim Lady Joanna up until the moment it began?”.

“Correction: none of you can claim me because I am not an object. Also, I suggested him to give me a ride here, so in this case I was claiming Prince Hamid’s company in question, not yours”.

Miss Parsons smiled at the duke, trying to calm him, but Joanna knew it wouldn’t work until she knelt down his manhood “We are here now”.

“Indeed, and the show has yet to—”.

The duke cut him off, kissing Joanna’s hand and then pulling her to his side and she shook off his hand off her, besting him in strength and… well, everything.

“Lady Joanna”.

“Duke Richards” She spitted, obvious disgust on her face.

“I must say, I appreciate the care that you took dressing for the evening. I shall be quite the envy walking in with an ornament like you on my arm. The prince may have stolen you for the ride, but now I stake my claim”.

Joanna’s face twisted with rage as she greeted her teeth, approaching the man menacingly “Call me that again, you wretched, stinky thing, and I will make sure that your arm—” Miss Parsons cut her off, grabbing her shoulder, calming her down. Something about the touch made her back off, however, her eyes contact never wavered as she let out a rather primal growl, making the man waver for a brief moment.

“Let’s have a peaceful evening, shall we?” She looked at Joanna. She grunted in agreement as she took a deep breath.

“You’re right. It’s a beautiful night and the opera tonight sounds splendid, even if the male company is rather questionable and doesn’t know that no man has a claim over me”.

“You’re here at my invitation, to sit in my box. I call that a claim”.

“And I could’ve rejected it in a blink of eye, and yet here am I. That with the fact that I can leave here now and don’t look back, but I won’t because I don’t trust that you will respect my friend’s virtue. Not everything’s about you, wake up from Richardsland” She snapped at him, pointing a threatening finger on his chest.

“How dare you assume—”.

“Oh, I don’t assume that you are not trusted to be alone with young debutantes. I confirm it” She smiles triumphally “That said, tonight is the only and last night I go out with you, Your Grace. I hereby reject your courting and I will not accept more invitations of yours until the season has ended. None of them. You have my company only tonight and nothing, and I mean, nothing can change my mind. You know why? Because I can and I just did and… You. Don’t. Own. Me. I owe you nothing. Anything at all. Nod if you understand and get your head out of your ass, would ya? You’re not worthy of my time and attention”.

The Duke’s face reddened at her words as she smirked. The duke started to bark, but Joanna’s ears were elsewhere. She saw fifteen people watching them, watching her. Wolves. They were there, with weapons and growling. Joanna knew it was the ambush. She looked at Prince Hamid and told him in his mind “Get to safety! We’re about to suffer an ambush of wild stray werewolves and they’re highly dangerous! Don’t look back, get to safety, I will kick them off. Now, run!”

“But, Lady Joanna—” He started.

“Get out now!” She yelled as one wolf charged! “Focus on keeping Miss Parsons safe!”.

“I…I…” He looked at the wolves and then Joanna. He nodded, determined “I will keep her safe. Be careful, my lady”.

“I will” And she lunged at the charging wolf.

With Miss Parsons and Prince Hamid safe, she ran fast towards the wolf and the arm on the side of her opponent found his chest, her legs turned a 180 grades angle and then placed on the floor, throwing her opponent and snapping his ribs. Three wolves charged against her and she jumped high, her hands open and landed two feet behind them, sending an air spell to them, sending them flying away! Other five opponents went towards her and she activated her panther claws and teeth and eyes, lunging at them and doing a 180º jump, hugging by the waist to one of them while she sent the other flying with her closest feet with a strong kick, making his bones crack! She rolled down the floor and snapped his neck, making him helpless. Other two lunged at her and she slid down, ripping off their legs and bit one with vampire fangs and growled at the last standing.

“She’s a tribrid!” The man shouted.

“Try again, dog”.

She lunged towards the five of them and with two of them, she sent them against the opera house and pinned them there while she ran with vampire speed and stabbed her claws on his inner chest to the other two, tearing apart most of their organs. They dropped on the floor while she found herself against the only one who lasted that much against her.

“I will enjoy killing you” He smiled.

“First you’d have to best me” She snapped at him as she growled.

She lifted her three fingers and raised his blood pressure, making him sweat and vulnerable. Then, she snapped both of his kneecaps and stepped one feet on his chest, just where his heart was, thumping “Is this y’alls king?” She asked, soaked in blood and drool. The only seven survivors grunted in pain as she looked at them “Tonight you have attempted to annihilate me, someone who is worth of your fear and respect. Your one and only Goddess of the Peace, in the flesh. Tonight, I shall be merciful over your leader, but let the corpses of the fallen ones that if you try to murder me again, I will not have mercy. Now leave and do not return until you are capable of showing me some damn respect!” She yelled, looking at them with her amber eyes still glowing. She grabbed the hairy leader and hurled him towards one of his lackeys and growled him, shaking her head. They left, leaving the street a mess of blood and clothes and other rather disgusting things. Joanna wiped off some blood off her jaw and lip and walked towards Prince Hamid “Get her inside. I will clean up, heal myself and then I will come inside”.

“Do not fret, my lady. We will await you”.

While they awaited for the lady, Prince Hamid smiled at Miss Parsons “The danger has passed. Joanna is fixing herself, but she will come back before we know it”.

“This is outrageous! What on earth was the lady doing that delayed our grand entrance? And what was that fluid she was soaked on?! Utterly unladylike” The Duke rambled.

Prince Hamid looked at him with a firm expression “The lady was granting our safety and hers. If it weren’t for her, we would’ve ended badly”.

“And what she doing that got her so dirty, eh?”.

“That’s not my story to tell” He gave his usual smile “Let’s find our seats, shall we?”.

“I’m afraid my box only seats three, and all chairs are spoken for” He glared at him.

“Oh…” His heart fell. He was hoping to recite more Italian with the lady, but it seemed that he’d have the lady all to himself while he sat on his own.

“I hope you were not assuming you would sit with us”.

Despite the feeling, he forced a smile “No. It is fine. I purchased my own seat at the orchestra”.

Miss Parsons looked at him saddened “Enjoy the show, Your Highness”.

He walked towards the theatre, but not without looking back to where Joanna had disappeared. He sighs, already missing her company.

Miss Parsons wondered where Joanna could be and what was could’ve been the danger that she prevented. She was about to ask for her when the duke shrugged.

“It seems like we will walk together there until the lady shows up. Shall we?” He offered his arm and she took it reluctantly. She noticed someone watching them, but shrugged the thought off.

They started walking towards the duke’s box when she noticed Viscount Westonly approaching them. She panicked and wished that Joanna were there to back her up. She wanted to hide, but the duke would only allow it. The Viscount smiled at them both, especially at her and her body shuddered of disgust. He was reaching towards her with both of his hand when a whoosh and a rather possessive hand on her lower waist snaked her around.

Her heart raced as she saw Joanna, now with a braid that went four inches above her head and then fell down to her lower waist. She gave a smile-glare to the Viscount “Apologies for the delay, I found some of my clothes stained with animal’s fur and I had to clean it up, but here am I. Viscount Westonly, what a surprise seeing you here!” Her hand begged her closer, hoping the man would take the hint.

She didn’t know why, but it was a pleasing feeling. She liked that Joanna claimed her and protected her from men like Viscount Westonly. She felt so safe around her…

“The lovely Miss Parsons! You know, I came by your sister’s house looking for you, and you were nowhere to be found”.

With confidence regained, Miss Parsons told him, his expression dead and with the encouragement of certain redhead “Yes. That was definitely intentional”.

Joanna stifled a giggle as the Viscount spoke, again “Unconventional? Ah, that’s what I love the best about you, my love”.

Joanna’s glare and face turned into a jealous scowl made her heart flutter “I’m sorry? Your what?” Her fingers traced her hipbone, reassuring her.

He tried to pull her into an embrace, but Joanna was quicker and with another whoosh, they were far away from the creep. Rather far away, but she wasn’t complaining.

“What the fuck does he think he is? My love? Harassing you everywhere? Does he think he owns you or something?” Her face wasn’t jealous, but it was more like utterly disgusted and raged “Why, of course he does! He is a man, of course he thinks that he owns women and think we owe them something. Why am I surprised?”.

“The disgusting old lecher thinks he fancies me”.

“He does not. He may fancy your womanhood, but he does not fancy you as a person and he is not and will never be worthy of you. If he tries something again, I will tear apart his little, disappointing and full of weird sickness of a cock—”.

“Joanna!” She called her “I appreciate you defending me, but I will be alright”.

“I know you will. But I don’t trust a single man in this room. That is why I hereby declare my protection towards you. I’d like to see any man hand you without my consent”.

“That means… you’re my knight in shining armour?” She asked, fluttering her eyelashes. She smirked as her faces came closer.

“That… and everything you want me to be” She looked at her lips and saw how she licked hers.

Ahead of them, Duke Richards greeted Miss Holloway and Mr. Chambers. Joanna rolled her eyes.

“The next idiot who tries to get on my nerves, I will annihilate them, I don’t care who the fuck it is”.

“Your Grace. What a… pleasant surprise”. That’s a good use of words like, ugh, this jerk again. “You look stunning tonight, Lady Joanna” He smiled when he saw her and she smiled back “I daresay you will outshine the stars of the saw”.

“You flatterer. You are indeed lucky that I like you enough to let it pass”.

The duke gives a bark of a laughter and Joanna looks at him with a raised eyebrow “And what happened to you, Chambers? Miss Holloway’s mother rope you into taking her tonight?”.

“Or maybe Miss Holloway made the decision by her will because, maybe, deep down in her cold heart, she finds the man’s company delightful. Even more than some men I know” Joanna remarked.

Mr. Chambers flushes but looks at Joanna, grateful for jumping into their defense and Miss Holloway’s brows knit furiously “Excuse me?” Then she looks at Joanna and huffs “Perhaps you’d prefer to escort me, Your Grace. I would be far more appropriate companion for a duke than some opportunist”.

“So it was her who spread those rumours. Guess she’s too coward to say thing to the face” She commented in high voice.

“Why don’t you come over and say that to mine?”.

She looked at her with a smirk “Sure! Which one of the many, many, many faces you own? Should I start with the bitchy one, the fake one or the bully that ran out of diapers one?” She got closer to her and so did she before Mr. Chambers and Miss Parsons pulled them away from the bickering women. Some people whispered about it. She composed herself and smiled “But if you two want to spend time together, it’s arranged them. Enjoy the show” She started to get away from the group, but Miss Parsons pulled her back and gave her a look. She sighed but stayed with her nevertheless.

The duke froze on his smile as he saw what she tried “Do not push me too far, Lady Joanna. I am not yours to give away”.

“Funny! Neither am I. Thank Goodness we agree on something” She smirked wider, a winning smirk on her face.

The duke tried to steer her upstairs, but she released herself from the grasp and went there by herself as the duke nodded goodbye to Miss Holloway.

“Enjoy the show, Miss Holloway. Good luck getting Chambers to look away from the tenors”.

“But do not blame him if he does! They seem to be nice to look at, unlike some gentlemen here and I am not looking at anyone!” She looked at the duke for a brief moment “And Chambers, come over sometime for tea and tell me more about your new friend Mr. Konevi! HE IS INCREDIBLY HANDSOME AND DREAMY!” She yelled intentionally. Miss Parsons pushed her upstairs before she could say anything else, shaking her head at her.

“Joanna, you are definitely a source for scandal”.

“I try my best, dear”.

Duke Richards whispered in her ear “You know, I’ve heard some tenors are to be a bit… light in the loafers”.

“A perfect view for me then. Finally found a reason to stay here. Sounds like a great view indeed” She smirked at him.

“That’s not what I—” He scowled.

Miss Parsons looked at her wide-eyed before shaking her head.

A moment later, they reached the lavish box, jutting forward straight over the crowd. Miss Parsons looked at the room “You know, I don’t believe I’ve seen Mr. Sinclaire here…”.

“Mr. Sinclaire has never appreciated the finer things in life. His tastes are far… more base”.

“I beg to differ” Joanna glared at him as a pinch on her heart hit her for a moment. No, he wouldn’t!

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, a sweet young thing like you. Let’s just say he’s probably found something or someone more of his tastes”.

“Alright, old man. First of all, he wouldn’t. Not like that. I know an honest, good man when I see one and my instinct never fails. Secondly, there’s nothing sweet about me” Her heart raced as she denied it. He wouldn’t be able! Not like that.

There must be something, anything behind this. He could never be that… cold.

“Are you suggesting Mr. Sinclaire is… seeking illicit company?” Miss Parsons asked.

“Let’s just say that he spends certain weekends in London visiting houses of ill repute”.

“You lying hag! He would never be that cold!” He… he can’t. “You are making it up because of your rivalry! It’s what men like you do. Lie” She took a deep breath “Whatever he does, it’s none of our business. He’s a grown man. A mature one. Not everyone can say that of themselves”.

“How very open-minded of you. Were such things not looked down in Groverdale?”.

“Grovershire. Besides, we all knew who was to blame of their condition, and it wasn’t them” She glared at the duke.

The duke waved his hand dismissively “Mr. Sinclaire is a gentleman. If his behaviour breaches the boundaries of good taste and judgement, it is very much our business”.

“What a good excuse to hide that you are absolutely obsessed with him”.

“Hmmph. I am not obsessed with him. He is obsessed with me”.

“Hah! Keep telling that to yourself…”.

She caught Miss Parsons’s eye as she casually flicked her fan to cool off. She immediately understood and unfurled her own, twirling it to her left hand, reminding her that the duke is still watching. She debated what to indicate for a brief moment before she drew the fan across her cheek, then quickly fan herself to show her that she was thinking of being alone with her. She smiled at her widely and winked as she held her fan closed over her heart. Her pulse raced like a hummingbird as she remembered what she learned with Lady Grandmother: that was a sign of romance.

The duke continued talking, not even looking at her “I know your father is in good terms with Mr. Sinclaire, but he is not truly a man worthy of Edgewater”.

“I am the one who will choose a husband, so I will be the judge of that; me and myself only. Got it?”.

Suddenly, there is a swell of music below and the actors begin to pour onto the stage.

“Shh!” Miss Parsons shushed them “The show is starting!”.

The lights went off as the actors on stage began to sing, the Italian words that Joanna learned long ago washing over her in thrilling soprano and soaring tenor voices. The duke slid closer, letting his leg brush hers. He leaned to whisper in her ear “Ever since you told me about your mother, I’ve been picturing you up there in one of these costumes…”.

She followed his gaze to where the princess’s décolletage was nearly spilling out of her tight bodice. She gave him a bored look “Am I supposed to swoon over your comment and then kiss and make up or…? You are really bad at complimenting women” She uses her foot with a bit of her strength to firmly push his leg off hers “But again, I guess all lechers are bad at complimenting women by default” She didn’t care about that kind of dress. She wore far more ‘scandalous’ dresses to the balls in the Circle where they could see her knees and a glimpse of her nipples, but it was his tone what bothered her “Do me a favour and keep your comments to yourself. I am trying to enjoy the opera and you are a big, stinky obstacle”.

“It was you who opened the door, little nightingale. Don’t be surprised of what flies in”.

She rolled her eyes “Did I? Or is it you, who cannot control his cock like an immature school boy?”.

“I will tell you that I—” It was her turn to wave her hand dismissively.

She made a tone deaf spell that silenced her ears at the duke’s remarks only, enjoying the show as id he weren’t there. She gave a winning smirk as she whispered some Italian lyrics, showing off her language skills to the box. She could feel the duke’s scowl and she loved it.

The princess found a secret note… just as the duke creeped up a hand to rest on her shoulder, but she was faster and casted a spell in her mind to make his stomach growl and bother him while she tried not to laugh.

“Hmmphh, seems like something I ate must’ve make my stomach rather… wild” He whispered low to himself, but no enough to Joanna’s ears.

“That must’ve been the cigars. Scientifics says that if you abuse of smoke, you have all the chances of die in a painful way and that would be such a pity” She remarked with an amused smile on her face.

He just glared at her.

She sat in a rather scandalous way, her right ankle resting on her left knee and her shoulders at the sides of the chair, leaving now the duke astonished and cornered on his seat. She smirked winningly, now feeling in control.

A long while later, she felt her muscles relax as the orchestra winded down and the crowd began to stir for intermission. A gentleman approached her, but she noticed someone else in the shadow. He sent her an air message which she grabbed quickly as the nobleman spoke “Your Grace, may I have a word?”.

“Ladies, excuse me…” The duke turned with a sigh and she groaned in relief.

I thought that I’d have to hurl him to the stage if he tried to touch me again! And I would have!

“Oh, I cannot believe he tried to stab her lover!” Miss Parsons commented “How do you suppose they’ll end up together?” She noticed her pensive expression “Joanna? Did the duke make it so hard for you to enjoy the show?”.

“Hmm? It’s not that, but he was rather annoying. Nothing I haven’t managed before”.

“I saw a little of what he was doing. He was like a little boy with his hands on his sweets”.

“That is one way to say he was harassing me”.

“Does he have no respect for you?” She said angrily.

“He has no respect but his own reflection, I’m afraid” She growled “He buys my company for the night and he already thinks he owns me and thinks I owe him pleasure!”.

“Switch places with me then!” She smiled “Then he cannot keep pressing himself on you, and you’ll be able to enjoy the show”.

“No, I would never ask you to—”.

“He’s not interest in me, that’s plain. I’ll be fine”.

“One can never be fine with a man like him”.

“You needn’t worry. I can take care of myself”.

“… Fine. But give me a minute”.

Before she could speak, Joanna rushed towards a corner, where she read the note:

Your Mr. Sinclaire will be murdered tonight in front of a whorehouse and the blame will fall onto the women. Do something. My spy will be in contact. Aunt Nya.

Her heart stopped for a brief moment. No, he couldn’t be killed! She set her jaw and with her speed, she went towards the informant and pinned him against the wall.

“Tell me where he’ll be and how many am I expecting. Now”.

The man didn’t even bat an eye “Right after the opera. Be careful, these are big deal wolves. I’ll show you the place” He grabbed her neck and she gasped, arching her head as she saw the place, near a famous bridge which name she couldn’t recall yet. Then she gasped and nodded.

“I will remember this” And dashed towards the seat, where Miss Parsons already managed their seats and Duke Richards returned.

“You’ve switched seats”.

“We did. And?”.

“Ahem. The reason behind this is that I was having trouble seeing from where I was and Lady Joanna was kind enough to switch places with me” She smiled.

“Then you should switch the seat with me, Miss Parsons, and I shall take your old one. I am far taller than Lady Joanna”.

“No, you are actually” She towered to him, only four inches shorter than him “Not that tall. I’ve seen taller people than you and you are not really tall. She is the shortest one in the room, so is reasonable she takes my old seat” She smirked at him “Basic mathematics, Your Grace. Or you never got to learn them?”.

“Hmmphh. I know far more mathematics than you”.

“Do you, though?”.

“I don’t care about mathematics. This is my box and I choose who I sit beside”.

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s my decision if I want to sit with you, and I decided that I don’t. Besides, you’ve ignored poor Miss Parsons the whole time. Isn’t it rude? Didn’t you say everyone would die to get your attention? And my final point is, Miss Parsons doesn’t speak Italian. E parlo fluentemente italiano. So, it makes sense that she sits beside you. Or you’ll deny a poor lady in distress help and guidance?” She challenged him as she locked eyes with him, intimidating him without even trying it.

With gritted teeth, the duke turned his head and dropped heavily into the seat beside Miss Parsons.

“The show is starting!”.

She allowed the music to wash over her, embasking in the rapid Italian and humming some lyrics, a small smile on her face.

After the show, Joanna, Miss Parsons and the duke slowly picked their way downstairs. But as they near the exit, Viscount Westonly noticed them “My dear Miss Parsons. Did you enjoy the show?”.

Joanna couldn’t help but scoff at the old man’s words, glaring at him with a strange pinch on her stomach.

“Yes. Very—” But the old man interrupted her.

“In my day, the singers were much louder” The Viscount rambled “I don’t know how they expect anyone listen to them whispering like that”.

“Oh, once I’m through, I will teach you the difference between whispering and being loud—” Joanna started to threaten, but Miss Parsons stopped her, mouthing her.

“I’ve got this. Don’t worry”.

“Eh?”.

“I said that maybe you should get a new trumpet” She said, trying to smile, but she couldn’t. She was too busy being disgusted at the lecher, giving him the deadliest of the glares.

“She said we have to go now” Miss Parsons glared.

Miss Parsons tried to push part the old man, but he stepped to block her. Joanna pushes Miss Parsons behind her and towers on Viscount Westonly “What’s your problem here, man? She said no, so go fuck yourself and let us through… or I will make you”.

“Joanna!” Miss Parsons pleaded.

“I beg your pardon?”.

“I think I’ve made myself pretty clear” She stepped towards the man threatening, her gaze as cold as icicles “Get out… of our… way. Or else”.

“Can’t a man offer a lady a ride home nowadays?” He glared.

“Not when the lady despises the man in question. So, shove it and outta our way”.

“No—” Miss Parsons started to say.

“I think it’s an excellent idea, my old friend” The duke smiled.

“A pity that nobody asked for your opinion. Let’s go, Annabelle” She tried to take Miss Parsons with her, but both men blocked her way. She wished to grab their necks and slam them against the wall until the carriage started running, but it was risky. Too risky “Show us the due respect and let us go… or I will make you both”.

“You two alone at night? That’d be ungentlemanly of us to leave you delicate women in the streets! We must take you home in each of our carriages!” The duke tried to convince her.

She looked at him with defiance “I’ve walked home in far worse conditions with far more threatening predators than you and made it unscratched. We will take our chances. Goodbye, gentlemen… even if you’re gentlemen when you are interested on the role” She grabbed gently Miss Parsons’s arm and shouldered past Duke Richards, sending him a few inches away!

Miss Parsons looked in awe at Joanna’s boldness as she grabbed her waist and looked at the gentlemen racing towards them, made them a rather obscene gesture and with her vampire speed, ran far away from their carriages and made a spell of invisibility. Miss Parsons gasped as she noticed the gentlemen couldn’t find them. Joanna smiled at her “Do you trust me?”.

“I… Yes”.

“Close your eyes and you will have a safe ride home without any lecher trying to lift your skirts for the day”.

“Alright…”.

She whistled and a small carriage for only one appeared with her trustful friend Mickey, with his charming self and riding the fancy carriage made of gold and sapphire “Ah, Your Royal Highness, need a ride back home?”.

Joanna chuckled “Not tonight, Mick, but my friend here does. Take her to the place she indicates you. I have a business to attend… elsewhere”.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness” He bowed respectfully to her as he opened the doors and offered his arm to help Miss Parsons “Miss, I am at your total and utter command, and not because of the delightful princess…” He teased.

“Princess?” Miss Parsons asked, confused. Joanna placed a gentle hand on her forearm.

“It is a long, complicated story, but I promise I will tell you all about it. Now, go home, my tricks don’t last that long. You can trust Mickey”.

Miss Parsons looked back at the duke and the viscount, asking everyone where their ladies went. She set her jaw and got into the carriage and indicated Mickey where to go and ride like the wind.

“Your wish is my command” And he drove off.

Joanna noticed she was starting to be seen in human eyes and sees a familiar figure hurrying down the street, carrying a stack of parcels on his arms. She notices also two wolves following him and how the duke is about to spot her and wastes no time.

“Look at him! I can guess at what bawdy house he’s headed to” The duke sneers.

Oh, hun, you’re not going anywhere.

She hides behind a tree nearby and lifts her fingers of each hand, blowing up the duke’s and the viscount’s carriages! She also sets on fire the duke’s arse and starts making sweat the viscount, too distracted to what she’s about to do.

While she sees Mr. Sinclaire is curious about what just happened, he keeps moving and so does she.

The danger was there and there was no time now. Mr. Sinclaire was in danger, he needed her. She tried to reach him but those Ferals and possessed wolves were about to attack when she felt some pain in her whole body: her back, her hands, her forearms, her shoulders... She gritted her teeth as she knew what was happening. She was changing, transforming. She got in four and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she felt better, faster, stronger. She tried to talk but instead she roared. She was a whole panther! She gritted her teeth and ran towards those vampires who had poor Mr. Sinclaire cornered. She roared and threw herself over one of them, biting the wolf's shoulder and making it a big bite. What she felt... It was nothing she didn't even felt when she knew she could do lifting spells. She howled and got closer to Mr. Sinclaire, purring him to hide and let her handle him. She saw horror in his eyes, confusion, but not fear. She looked back to her opponents and growled, determinate to defend the gentleman. He was his father's people, and her father's people were her people. Her pack. A Feral ran towards him but she was faster with her training. She jumped and pinned him to the floor, biting his head and decaptiating it. She growled at how those wolves roared at her and jumped and in her inner human, the spell made them fall backwards and those wolves went back to their human self. She closed her eyes and felt how she felt human again. She raised her chin, realising she was naked, her skin glowing gold as she raised, her amber eyes glowing, demonstrating she was an Alpha. She moved her fingers up, making the floor open and throwing high to those men! She smirked with suficency and threw her hands on her right shoulder and a dark aura came out of her hands and threw the ball as hit both naked men. They looked at her, afraid of her power as they shouted.

“She's a hybrid! Run!”.

She looked back at the gentleman as she made a dressing spell and her blue gown was back. She sighed as she approached him slowly, carefully, watching every inch of him.

“Now two things can happen: you burst at me with questions of what the hell happened or you run towards the guards to rat and I have to erase your memory. It's up to you what happens by now, Ernest Sinclaire”.

Ernest's gaze remains locked, although he wishes to look and shudder away from the image, on one of the fallen men before Joanna. His muscles strain to keep himself still in the suddenly inert and undisturbed air and he forgets to breathe as he tries to recall the events of the last seconds. The static once present and crackling through the air about them had subsided.

He had no idea where the beast had come from and he isn’t sure he would see Joanna should he shift his view to her. In her direction he had last seen a great cat with fur darker than the midnight sky and citrine eyes that seemed to find and reflect every speck of light in the late London air. Westminster bridge was a familiar sight for Mr. Sinclaire, on his frequent trips for business in this area of town. The bridge, abandoned at night, bustled during the day. Ernest Sinclaire wasn’t sure what could be expected the next morning, as MPs and other dignitaries made their way to work or meetings, as carriages rolled past pedestrians. He struggles to blink as his stomach turns at the grotesque looking men, something off in their appearance that belied an air of inhumanity about them. Something supernatural perhaps. Though Ernest was hardly versed in these things. There’s an acrid snap to the back of his throat as he notices the worst of it all. The men, face down in the gutter, are starting to become surrounded by a pool of sticky, dark blood. His stomach flips at the thought of it. Ernest Sinclaire is sure he may be ill. The blood seems to almost steam against the early spring night-time air, and Ernest swears he can see tendrils of mist hovering over the surface of the growing pool.

He manages to blink for long enough that the cool sweat starting to pepper along his arms and hands begins to subside. In the moment of quiet darkness, isolated from the world around him his thoughts snap back to Joanna.

Ernest found himself drawn to her in a way he couldn’t quite place, a way he certainly hadn’t felt in his lifetime. When he regains the ability to breathe, as he begins to feel the tightness in his ribs, his lungs and their urgent aching for air, he is finally able to look back towards Joanna. He braces for the worst, the whole incident happened so quickly he wasn’t sure what he had witnessed. His mind was struggling to grasp onto certainties of the event: Joanna, the men, the large beast, a panther he surmised, seemingly surging through Joanna. His brain continues to hang onto an absurd notion that the creature, majestic and powerful, had burst from the woman herself. Ernest continually shook that ludicrous impulse from his memory. He had no idea where she went in the chaos. She couldn’t have disappeared— his eyes had absolutely deceived him. He shifts his weight to allow him to turn towards her last location, pivoting on the balls of his feet to make the least amount of noise. As his vision shifts away from one of the men, prone on the ground, he prays that she is unscathed.

When he regains his focus on her, he cannot help the sharp intake of breath that follows, she is intact and naked. Her curls shift their positions across her back and shoulders as she breathes heavily. The shifting of her body allows him a glimpse of her in a light that he never expected to. Across her back, the silvery shine of scars mark her, scratches down her back and what can only be described as teeth marks from a gaping maw. Ernest could not fathom what could’ve caused such injuries on such a small woman, let alone how she survived the attacks. It is but a moment of pause while Ernest takes in her form, lithe but powerful. Her skin looks as though it glows from within and though Ernest has known for a long time that she was no ordinary woman who rose to the heights of an English socialite, this proved she was much more than any one he’d encountered or would likely encounter in his entire life.

Joanna rises as the heaving of her shoulders slows and she regains her breath. She stands, her back to him and he cannot tear himself away, ripples of musculature, taut and tense, come to life across her back as she brushes her arms free of embedded pebbles and other detritus.

It was impolite to be gazing upon a woman in such a state, let alone a young lady and daughter of an Earl. His heartbeat quickens, thumping heavily against his rib cage, and his pulse courses so intensely he feels it in his neck. A heat creeps over his cheeks, over the tops of his ears, it rushes down his neck and over his chest, where he can feel the mottled red come to a rest. She was the sort of ethereal beauty one only saw in paintings or read about, her moonlit skin shone in the dark, her hair catching flecks of lamplight from the lanterns along the bridge.

She shakes her hair out behind her and Ernest realizes he had never once given thought to how long it was due to the habit of women keeping their hair up, tightly wound, in the presence of polite company. The sight of it, the majesty of her locks floating freely, made him wish she would wear it down more often— though he would never part with that information willingly. The colour too was quite hard to believe to be real, a deep red orange dusted with flecks of gold that Ernest had only seen late nights, deep in the smoldering embers of his fireplace. In the motion of her hair swishing over her skin, Ernest notices the dimples at her lower back and the shift in her skin to something much more mortal, rather than the cool enveloping glow of the moon. His senses return to him, as he notices her form shifting, rotating, to face him and he glances down, towards his feet then away from her.

When she breaks the silence, her voice is steeped in vulnerability, small and wounded, though she would never let that show across her face. “I suppose you were bound to find out one way or another. I had hoped it would be under more favourable circumstances.” She bites the side of her cheek and sighs.

Ernest is too flustered to respond, as in the corner of his eye he notices Joanna does little to conceal herself. He struggles to figure out just what to do in the moment, stillness leading to an unsettled feeling rolling about in his stomach He fidgets his hands over one another, before he brings them up to his face, massaging his long fingers into his temples and shielding his face from her with his hands.

She brushes most of her hair over one shoulder, concealing a portion of a single breast. Still not enough for the master of Ledford to chance a look at the heiress.

He swallows a lump that had formed in his throat, hoping that it would ease the increasingly dry sensation in his mouth so that he may be able to force his words from his lips should his mind be able to find them. Surely she was enjoying making him feel this uncomfortable. He quarter turns away from her, in the direction opposite the men in the gutter, glancing along the length of the bridge behind him.

“Well how about that.” She chuckles bitterly, though her words do little to conceal the pang of hurt in the crack of the first syllable. Joanna curls a bit into herself. The transformation Mr. Sinclaire just witnessed something she’d been very much warned about sharing with others outside her world. She feels exposed, though it isn’t the parky breeze coming off the Thames and rushing across her skin that does it to her. “For once it seems polite society hasn’t prepared you with the perfect thing to say.” He witnessed something extraordinary, something incredible. An act of one god or another supernatural being surely.

There’s a particular circumstance clouding his mind at the moment, stealing his words before he can even form them on his tongue and filling his mind with impure thoughts, one he realized had a quick remedy. He hurries to shrug from his coat, holding it out to the young lady of Edgewater without looking at her.

“For you, Lady Joanna.”

He feels the tailcoat leave his hand, the heavy, quality garment suddenly gone. Ernest can just make out Joanna running her fingers over the coat, admiring it in a way, before he sees her flip it behind her and pull her arms within it.

He braves a glance towards her, her legs were quite bare. He dares to meet her gaze. When he finally gets a good look at her, he notices something his mind had only previously managed to contain as a fragment of an image. Amber eyes that he’d seen once only in a figment of a memory from moments before meeting him. The bright topaz quickly fades back to the eyes he is familiar with. The colour disappeared much like a paper burning, working it’s way from her pupils and outward, until it snuffed itself out.

“Surely this isn’t anything you haven’t seen before.” Joanna gestures to herself, the coat beginning to fall open.

Ernest's eyes snap to the ground once more until he can tell she’s recovered her grip on the too-large-for-her garment. He finds his voice as he risks another look at her.

“It isn’t that I haven’t seen it before. It is that you haven’t given me permission to look.”

Joanna’s shoulders, once squared, soften at his sentiment.

It is in that moment, in the quiet and still, Ernest notices a drop of blood fall from her nostril to the light wool on the lapel of his coat. He surges forward towards her, his long fingers reaching towards her. In an instant he snaps them back, his hand forming a loose fist he holds close to his chest. “You’re hurt.” He weighs his response and begins to move towards her once again, his propriety losing to his fondness for Joanna, but is stopped by the young woman lifting a single hand in with her palm facing him.

She lifts both of her hands to her face, the coat falling open once again, her lips moving silently, and her fingertips hover just barely over her skin.

Ernest swears that she begins to glow like lilies in the moonlight once again and he cannot tear himself away from her silent incantation, a sacred ritual of sorts that he should never be witness to.

When Joanna lowers her hands, the coat remains open and she doesn’t move to fix it. However instead of pearlescent skin, reflecting the moonlight, her blue evening dress from before covered her once again. Her red hair whips about behind her as though it is caught in a gale until it coifs itself as perfectly as it had been previously. For those moments she is a woman on fire incarnate, brave, independent, and bold. All qualities of hers that Ernest had glimpses of before, just never so in the open and on display.

She inhales deeply and exhales sharply before opening her eyes and finds Ernest’s own sapphire gaze locked intensely on her face. Her lips curl into a vulnerable smile, it is all she can do to contain her nerves. Johanna’s lips twitch and readjust themselves many times until she turns to find a place to rest and lowers herself against the bridge’s railing. She is much too short to sit upon it, but her shoulders relax from the sharp and rigid angles about her neck. She hugs the coat close to her, somehow becoming smaller within it, even in the mild temperature the wind left her once bare skin feeling tickled with goose flesh. Joanna invites Ernest to join her with a tilt of her head though her eyes do not meet his.

Ernest obliges, his heart still pounding and causing the blood in his veins to course and careen about his body so haphazardly that he was beginning to feel lightheaded. His body moves on its own accord, as his consciousness is not sure he will be able to remain upright. His mind whirls with a single thought that holds no rational explanation.

What did I just witness?

Without missing a single beat as though she can read his very thoughts, Joanna speaks, “I suppose I owe you an explanation.” Her voice is steady in volume, though it contains a note of teetering on a tightrope.

Ernest joins Joanna on her perch. “If you wish to give me one, you personally owe me nothing Lady Joanna.” He peers down at her, the railing hitting him at his lower back.

Her wounded vulnerability morphs into mild indignation. Joanna scoffs. “You just watched a woman turn into a panther before you, and you have no questions?”

So my mind hadn’t played tricks on me.

The affirmation that his eyes had not, in fact, deceived him was relaxing despite the implication. Ernest relaxes into his seat before looking over at young Joanna once again. “Questions yes, but you do not have to answer them if you do not wish to.”

Joanna’s fingers curl into the fabric of his coat for a moment before she releases her grip, the intensity of the moment passing and the terror of another’s opinion dissipating. Her face snaps up to his, defiant and close.

The lump Ernest had finally managed to swallow returns with her proximity and the feeling of her breath rustling his shirt tossed his insides about. He is drawn to her unlike any individual he had met before. In any other situation, the country squire would’ve recoiled, but he cannot find the ability to move and he has lost his voice once more.

“Mr. Sinclaire, Ernest,” Joanna stops after the use of his given name, the familiarity likely foreign to him. She measures his reaction, watching for the widening of his eyes that tells her he is listening. “I am part witch, part faerie, part lycan, part vampire, part nereid, and part human. A sixbrid.” She supposes that at least the first part of the statement was obvious with the spectacle he had just witnessed. “My creators call me Goddess of Peace.” Joanna pauses, weighing her desire to tell someone against the damage it could do. It was too late now, she might as well tell him what I all meant. “I was created, as hinted in my title, to bring peace and balance to the many realms on Earth.”

Ernest takes the information and hides it away, not speaking and hoping she’ll continue for this confession reveals more to him than anything she’s ever said before. The cutting humour, the flirtations, are nothing more than a mask to hide behind in this mortal world. She is so much more. His suspicions, though not as grandiose as her explanation, were confirmed.

“I have first been tasked with dispatching a common enemy of ours, though you may not be aware of just what lurks under their mask yet.”

The suggestion snaps Ernest’s attention to the back of his mind where he shuffles through the people he knows that may be worthy of such a warning. He has little time to dwell on the foreboding premonition she presented in her solitary and veiled statement because Joanna continues on. Now did not seem the proper time for questions.

Joanna launches into a story of her mother’s origin and her own birth. Each sentence of the entire tale is more fantastical than the one that came before it. Had Ernest not seen the events that transpired immediately before her confession he wouldn’t have believed a word of it. It would’ve been another trick, another joke for her to play on him. Another laugh at his expense. The whole story corroborates what happened to those men still splayed at odd angles in the gutter. It confirms Ernest’s own instincts that lady Joanna was more than the first born daughter of Earl Vincent. Specifically, that she was someone who challenged him and his views of the world. She was someone that he wished to spend more time with. To possibly spend all his time with, discussing and listening. He’s lost in her words, the tapestry of an unseen world that she’s woven for him that the last part, snaps him back to the present moment. Here, together, on the bridge. She finishes with her dreams of dark blood on her father's lips.

Ernest speaks not a word for the whole epic until Joanna looks up from her hands and to him. Her wide eyes implore him to ask questions of her.

“Does this mean you are immortal?”

Joanna nearly winces at the last word, her lack of mortality was a difficult facet of her being for her to come to terms with. It pains her to think of all the people she will love and lose because of it. It was almost a curse. Already, she’d lost so much. She blinks rapidly to drive off the emotion. Tucking the tips of her fingers under the hem of his wool tailcoat, she tries to formulate an answer that doesn’t seem so desolate. The thought of her mortality or lack thereof was painful. She had lost one love, forced to live all her days without, and was not prepared to repeat the pain. She doesn’t have to think about it long though, as Ernest’s eyes flicker like sunlight over the sea and he comes up with another question.

“If witches are real, then what of brownies and lubberkins? Or druids? Chiltern hills? Harry’s Welsh nursemaid used to tell me tales of sin-eaters when he was young.” Tall tales of his childhood flood his mind.

The smirk he knew well returns to her lips, the flicker of boyish wonder across his eyes pulling her back towards him. “All real.”

Ernest’s jaw falls open, the part of his mind where he’d hidden all these fantastical tidbits catching fire with possibilities. If those are all true, what isn’t?

Joanna’s eyes loll about, the smirk parting her lips for a moment before she corrects it. “You should see your face right now.” Her tone holds her inclination to laugh at him, though she keeps it within. “Please don’t ask me about Loch Ness, Mr. Sinclaire. Absolute rubbish. A mere joke amongst elves but you mortals cannot stop talking about it since the 1200s.” Joanna dares to reach for Ernest’s hand, to trace the pads of her fingertips just glancingly over the veins she can make out on the backs of his hands. They, like her destiny, seemed to show her a path.

“There’s more.” She fidgets with the cuffs of his jacket, pulling them over her own hands, so only her fingertips are visible. “Our own paths are intertwined. When I was a bit younger, I conjured cards to reveal my path in life. You were on one of my cards.”

Ernest’s focus is pulled all at once to her face, before he had been absorbing the story while watching how she moved her own body. It gave him an inclination to what she was proud of, what she was scared of, what had hurt her. He clears his throat before asking, heart in his throat as his stomach rolled over within him. Could it be?

“What does that mean?”

Joanna tears her gaze from Ernest’s, meeting his eyes always left her feeling tangled in a spider web of sorts. “You never told me even though I asked. Just what are you punishing yourself for, Mr. Sinclaire? What is your cardinal sin that deserves such flagellation?”

He pauses, dropping his own glance to his knees. There was so much he felt guilty about. How he’d failed those in his life. He wasn’t able to pinpoint if it was one singular thing that weighed him down with this oppressive guilt.

“You are far too young to be carrying such burdens, you know. Especially in your limited time. Dying with regret in your heart is the worst way to go, you spend your last breath wondering if you ever truly lived. You deserve more than happiness, sir, you deserve fulfillment.” Joanna watches the side of the gentleman’s face for a signal, a flickering of something that will allow her to understand the role he is to play in her life: a confidant, a friend, or a lover.

Ernest furrows his brow as he processes just what was said by Joanna. Something dawns on him and he draws his face to meet hers once again. This time it is his face that feels a bit too close to hers.

“What is it that you’re saying, Lady Joanna?”

She lifts one of her hands, the sleeve of Ernest's large coat bunching towards her elbow as she tucks her fingers behind his head to coil a curl around her fingers. “I cannot be sure yet what that means for us, my dear Mr. Sinclaire.” She tugs lightly at the lock of hair before releasing it.

My dear.

The talk of intertwined destinies– of fairies, witches, and divination– swirls in Ernest Sinclaire’s mind and intoxicates him. He is no longer thinking clearly. She was destined for greatness, this much the country squire knew, but what role did he have in the life of this stella nova? She was witty, clever, and strong. Joanna couldn’t possibly need him in all of his tangled-up emotions and opinions. She would burn bright without him or his help, surely. Could it mean that she feels the same? His heart races, his body on fire, and he can do naught but stare at her lips.

Joanna notices and draws her body closer to him, turning to face him more properly now.

Ernest pushes off of the side of the bridge, face to face with Joanna, wanting nothing more than the connection and tangled nature of their supposed destinies to become much more physical at the moment. His fingers itch to touch her, to gnaw for her warmth through the wool tailcoat of his that she still wears, to drip over the lapels and across the back of her neck, where the warmth of her copper hair licked at her nape. His breathing quickens at the notion of his fingers delving into the thickness of her hair to feel the silkiness between his fingers. He is drunk off of her and her aura, the heady dream of being enveloped in her glow forever. If he moves, surely he’d stagger.

Joanna closes her eyes, stepping somehow closer, far too close to him to be deemed appropriate. All at once he feels her fingers, her palms, searching his forearms through his shirt. Towards the elbows. Curling and grasping into the thin fabric. His skin puckers against the garment, as it dances over his skin in the early spring breeze on the water. All along his arms she leaves scorched paths. The energy in the air crackles between them. His heart pounds and he can feel it in his extremities and hear it in his ears.

Before Ernest realizes what is happening, his face is drawn closer to Joanna's, his eyes ever trained on her lips and the petal pink of them, even in the low light. She breathes rapidly, raggedly, through them as he nears her. His hands finally make contact, swirling slow circles over the buttons of his own coat before daring even further, underneath the wool, towards the small of her back. He doesn’t mean to, but he pulls her closer still, now chest to chest and Joanna’s own body obliges, melting against him, though through his shirt she can tell his skin is chilled without his tailcoat.

As he nears, Joanna’s eyes flutter closed and she presses her toes into the ground, for more leverage, more purchase, more height. She hopes to meet him partway.

In a snap, like a lightning crack, it is over before it ever began. Ernest careens away from her surveying the skies before looking back at Joanna. His arms untangle themselves from her waist and slip protectively over her shoulders, as Joanna feels the first drops of a deluge patter on her face and décolletage. Joanna swats at Ernest before pulling away. He is looking away, to the west.

“Why did you stop?!” Joanna huffs, her tone indignant and annoyed.

He almost shrinks at her words but he doesn’t have a moment to let it completely sink in as the rain becomes nearly too hard to see through. “The rain, my lady. We should get you home before it soaks us both through.”

He grasps for her hand in the pouring rain and tugs her towards the west, away from the men she’d incapacitated and towards Westminster, where he knew hired carriages would be trolling about, waiting for someone to require their services this late in the night.

“It’s only rain, Mr. Sinclaire,” she shouts from behind him, not prepared to be running alongside him and his long stride. “Water. We’d have been fine for a few more minutes.”

He exhales sharply through his nose and suppresses a chuckle, grinning back at her. “I am almost offended you think I could have enough of you in mere minutes.”

Joanna glances away from his piercing blue eyes, a single corner of his mouth pulled back in carefree amusement for a moment, and squints through the rain. She thrusts her free hand towards a shadow she can just make out in the rain. “There! A carriage!”

Ernest surges forward, faster still, and Joanna’s wet fingers slip from his grasp. Ernest is shouting in his attempts to get the attention of the man driving the carriage. “Sir? Sir! Have you space? The young lady here must make it back to Grosvenor Square.” The shouting was entirely impolite but the man gathers from it Mr. Sinclaire’s urgency and beckons to the pair of them.

Safe within the carriage, for a moment Joanna and Ernest sit in silence after he lets the driver know that their destination is the Edgewater residence. The pair catch their breath not only from the sudden evening jog, but also the events that nearly transpired before it. Ernest finds himself once again, inexplicably pulled closer to Joanna, though she sits across the aisle from him in the front seat of the small coach.

The rumble below them nearly falls away as Joanna closes her eyes slowly, her fingers drawing lacy patterns independent of one another where she held them on her lap. Ernest can tell the carriage still moves, though something about it is altered and the surface of the road feels muted and softened somehow. When he peers from the windows all seems to be usual, though it can be hard to tell the time on the streets of London when the sky, water, and land all take on this inky dark colour this late at night. Especially in the driving rain. Did she? Ernest is about to cock his head at her, to feel out the darkness between them for an answer to whether she had done something to manipulate the carriage itself.

Joanna leans forward, resting her elbows on her thighs as she chews at her fingertip. Finally, after much deliberation she glances up, her eyes are hurt but tears are absent. Her brows knot for a moment before she speaks.

“Do you fear me, Mr. Sinclaire?”.

Mr. Sinclaire cannot think any longer on the characteristics of the carriage ride. At her words, his stomach tumbles in freefall. Surely his intentions hadn’t got mixed up in his actions. “Though I know what you’re capable of, I do not think you’d hurt me.”

Joanna exhales in a short burst through her nose and her momentary smirk prompts Ernest to sit upright and rigid. Her mirth does not last long and she looks down at her hands for a long moment, worrying both her palms over the fronts and backs of her fingers alternatively. Her next words are small. “Do I disgust you?”

Ernest takes no time with his answer. It spills from him before he can give her question a second thought. “You enthrall me Joanna.” He inhales deeply. “You fuddle me, but I can hardly get enough of you. Your voice. Your mind. That smirk. It all makes my head spin in the most delicious way.”

The carriage hits a divet in the cobble, a loose stone, and Joanna feels herself leave the seat. She was leaning entirely too forward, towards Ernest’s seat. Before she has a chance to hit the floor of the carriage his hands have caught her around her upper arms, settling her down gently. He kneels on the carriage floor, spilling from his seat in his effort to catch her, and once again, they’re close, chests pressed together and neither of them can hardly breathe. His breath catches in his throat and she blinks.

Her next question comes in a whisper and Ernest’s is sure he shouldn’t’ve heard her under usual circumstances. She did something to soften the ride of the carriage, to insulate them from the outside world. “Will you tell anyone what I am?”

Ernest Sinclaire cannot formulate the words to answer her, not in close proximity like this. He shakes his head to clear the clouds of her perfume from his mind. A string pulls him closer to her lips once again and her eyes flutter shut once again.

Her hands slip their way to his back, he can feel the warmth of them pressing through the thin fabric of his shirt. It is entirely pleasant. He could stay like this with her for hours upon hours if afforded the opportunity. Her breath ruffles his cravat and he watched the movement of it, his eyes making a long meandering journey of the line to her eyes. Her cheeks flushed to a colour so complimentary of the petal pink of her lips and her eyes blink up at his wide and questioning.

“What of the situation on the bridge sir?”.

Now that moment felt like an eternity away, he’d surely been here on the carriage floor with her for hours, memorizing each feature of her face. He wills his body not to do it, but something pulls him closer, his cheek passing featherlight over hers. The closer he is to her, the more at home he feels in her warmth, fragrance, and aura. Ernest swears he feels a tremble in her body as he speaks. His breath dances over her earlobe and down her neck. “I do not wish to take liberties with you, Lady Joanna.” He can feel the sudden absence of her own breath warming his shoulder through his shirt as it catches in her throat.

Joanna pulls back, the radiant warmth of her cheek leaving his as she faces him, eyes dark and lips parted. “If they’re given to you freely, Mr. Sinclaire, that isn’t taking.” Her bottom lip tucks into her teeth and she continues to watch him unwaveringly.

She waits but a beat for him to move, but the gentleman is frozen in place. The air in the carriage is sticky, their body heat and the water creating a murky atmosphere in which Ernest wishes he could untie his cravat. Surely, the young woman was quite sweltering in his wool tailcoat. Relieving her of it would be the noble thing to do. In the dripping air, time feels slower as though they are moving underwater. It is almost all Ernest could wish for. He would surrender to her, but they must be arriving any moment now. Ernest manages to glimpse at the carriage windows, but the landscape appears no different to him than it had been the previous time he looked.

“Take your liberties, sir. Take all that you wish.” Her breath is so warm against his chest that Ernest must glance down to confirm he hasn’t loosened the fastenings without remembering.

His hands find Joanna’s waist first, slipping over the slick skin of the satin ribbon tied there, before migrating downward to her hips, his long fingers dipping backwards and searching for those tiny dimples he recalled seeing on the bridge. He’s sure the driver will call out to them any moment, the carriage door flung open, the intense sensation of her presence and touch swallowing him making him unaware to the halting of the coach. It had absolutely been a quarter hour at least.

Joanna’s fingers curl into his back, her nails pressing into his flesh through the thinner-than-he-remembered muslin of his shirt.

She hums, somehow drawing herself closer to him, her nails driving deeper still into his skin. “I could take my own as well.” A single bemused throaty purr escapes her and the sound is all Ernest can focus on. She is inebriatingly close. Her nails kindle individual fires under his skin as he is enveloped in her, her strength, her person. “That is if you would oblige.” The gentleman can hardly breathe under her touch, the actuality that her body was this close.

The carriage hits another bump and his brain and body are so fuzzied that he cannot maintain upright. The pair tumble to the floor, Ernest catching himself mere inches from Joanna and a venture he is sure he would not be able to turn back from. Her lips pout and she wriggles upright, to sit taller against the wall of the carriage underneath him. Though he may have the high ground, he would do naught to stop her.

He can’t speak, he can hardly breathe. Ernest Sinclaire knows he is hers if she were want to take him. Her eyes, pupils blown wide, tell him her desires and speak to him like words. His common sense wars with the rest of him, imploring him to say not no, but more not yet. More than anyone he’d ever met, he desired her with all of himself. Her mind and her wit challenged him like no one had before. Mr. Sinclaire knows he must do right by her, because he respected her more than most people he’d ever met. He gathers his legs beneath him and rocks back on his heels to assist Joanna up.

Joanna slips from her seat on the floor beneath him, her hands resting on his waist, scorched paths burnt from their previous stronghold on his shoulder blades to there. He wishes to help her up, but is sure the moment he touches her he’ll be sent once again to a plane of existence where there is no time, no ton, no carriage, and only them. Only him and her darkened eyes, flush cheeks, and full lips. Only him and those dimples he cannot seem to forget. The shift of her hand as she adjusts herself under him, her hair so close to his face so that he smells the hair wash she uses intermixed with the day’s activities. The smoke of the opera, the velvet curtains, the rain. If Ernest Sinclaire focuses long enough on her, he is sure he detects himself and his own cologne intertwined with her scent. The thought alone is enough to send him reeling once more as her hands fly to the back of his neck, her fingers seeking sanctuary in his curls. He wishes against reason that the sensation could last forever.

“Grosvenor Square is right ahead, sir!” The carriage driver calls out over the increasing rumble of the stones beneath the wheels to Mr. Sinclaire and Joanna.

The two scramble to their seats, parting once again. A flicker of a thought passes over Joanna’s face, her brows lifting for a moment, before she shrugs from Mr. Sinclaire’s coat and places it on her lap. There she focuses on his coat, her hands, and a light of a nature that Ernest had never seen before this evening shines between her palms. Before his mind can catch up to watch he is witnessing with his very eyes, the light fades and a single impeccable red rose, the likes of which Ernest had never seen, takes its place on top of his coat just as the carriage slows to a stop. She lifts the rose as the two feel the shift in the carriage of the gentleman climbing down to open the door and presses her lips to the perfect blossom. She places the coat and rose into Ernest’s lap

“For you. A token of my affections.” Joanna smirks as she slips from the carriage. He watches her disappear into the dark house before tapping on the roof of the coach to let the gentleman know he was ready to move on to his own townhome.

The night had fallen upon the small land of Elias when he finally came back, scowling.

“I can’t believe it! By day, she’s getting stronger and more powerful and you are allowing it!” He snarled at his subjects. Both creatures flinched at the man’s rage as he shook his head. Mary laughed “What’s so funny?”.

“Don’t you know it better, Elias? It takes a deity to kill another deity. And we made one hell of a deity”.

A wide smile spread all over Elias “You’re right. You’re absolutely correct, my dear. What we need is a God to kill her. Thankfully, I am one step ahead of you. Jemma, love, come here!”.

The woman stoop into the light. She had black hair, red and demonic eyes, horns and tan skin, ugly scars all over her body and a trail of blood. She wiped the blood off her mouth and smiled at them, soaked in death and horror “Yes, master?”.

“I have a task for you”.

“What it will be, master?”.

“I want you to kill Princess Joanna Mills of the 94th world. And when you’re done… I want you to kill the rest of Joanna’s in the whole galaxy. Whatever it takes”.

“Hm… I always wanted to slay a Goddess”.

He looked at his two subjects. Corrupted Thomas and the old vampire Xenocrates stood there, broad smiles on their faces “Train her. And when she slays Joanna, burn down that earth”.

“Yes, master”.

Mary looked in horror at him “You wouldn’t…”.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you chose me over that mortal! Now, watch all you’ve died for be destroyed… just like I lived for you. Now, I live for your legacy’s downfall… and everything else”.

Mary took a laboured breath as she prayed the Goddess that Joanna were prepared for this. Because she knew Elias wouldn’t stop. The enemies and threats would never stop coming. And it was up to her and only her to defeat them, and pray the Goddess she did. Because if she didn’t… the world would never be the same again, because everything the Gods have worked for would be destroyed… beyond repair.

#playchoices fanfiction #desire and decorum #desire and decorum au #the cursed heiress #prince hamid #ernest sinclaire #annabelle parsons #joanna x annabelle #joanna x ernest #joanna x hamid #oc: joanna mills #tw: violence #tw: language #tw: nakedness #the cursed heiress series

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