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rosesnink · 2 years ago

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The Cursed Heiress, Chapter Fifteen: Face Your Fate

Author’s Notes

After a lot of months AWOL, I have come here to drop the newest chapter of The Cursed Heiress. I was for months caught with my studies, the lack of engagement, and pretty much everyone disappearing or not posting, but at last I could complete the chapter! Please remember to read the TWs and tags. Enjoy!

This series, for several reasons, is +16. Reader discretion is advised

English is not my first language, so please forgive any typos/ grammar mistakes

In case this is your first time finding this series, do check its masterlist

Summary: The final battle is here, and everyone suffers its consequences and aftermath

Rating: R-15

TW: Violence, language, major character death and angst

Word Count: 10.4k

Reading Time: 30 min aprox.

Joanna was preparing herself, hiding her letters of declaration and her will on her wood desk, fully knowing the stakes of battle: many would die, or worse, the people she could care about would die. She could die. Elias was nearly her equal, her bad side, her yang. But he couldn’t let her die: he’d make her his slave, forever bringing chaos and mayhem to other worlds and realities. Her home would be gone. Everything she built, would be lost in the edges of oblivion. And as for Joanna, she’d die a fast, pathetic and un-noble way, which was the thing she feared the most. The people she cared about? A slow, painful death while she watched. She touched her mother’s ring, fully knowing that she was preparing herself to defend Edgewater until her dying breath. She had a plan for that as well. For months, she waited for this, but now that it was here, she wished to go back in time to tell them how she felt, but alas, that’d be selfish of her. But she couldn’t afford distractions. She had to do it. For her people. For her loved ones. For the fallen ones. For the ones to come, so they’d have a better world to live in.

“Dracarians,” the High Commander cried “assemble!”

A roar of war erupted through the field as the massive troops of the spectacular army marched through town to the forest, where they’d meet the monks of Arboria and Ebenezer’s wolves. They’d meet Kamilah’s vampires on the way to London and the Neropolian troops would be there to assemble the other armies as one, mortal armies included.

The four people nodded at each other: the plan was on motion. Mr. Sinclaire and Mr. Harper went with the cavalry, while Miss Parsons was with the archers and Prince Hamid with the infantry. Nya, Nene and Odessa were at the head of the army, the captains of each team.

Midnight was close, and as the troops marched, whispers were heard.

Where is our empress-to-be?

She was supposed to be the head of this?

You think she chickened out?

She’s up to something! The Crochanes are known to be scheming and use the element of surprise.

They all met the teams and marched together onto the portal made by The Elders, their skeletal makeup creeping out some soldiers. Outside, the English countryside impressed and dazzled the groups that had never stepped on earth. The vampires came out. At first, wolves growled, but they remembered they had a bigger cause than old grievances: the safety of the planet they lived in. And for that, they’d put their differences aside for one day. For the sake of their home and the fate of the earth.

They marched on the city, meeting in the way the tall, dark-skinned and strong Neropolian soldiers and mercenaries, giving an impression of the terrorized Londoners of Elias’s conquest. Prince Misha stood among them, his long hair in a pristine ponytail and his golden eyes lightening the way. He told his Commander in Arms that he’d go to St. James’s palace to rescue the Queen and Prince Regent and take them to safety. The commander nodded, fully knowing that this was Joanna’s command and he took off.

Elias’s army was a few miles away, ready to kill. Elias, on Duke Richards’s body, smiled sinisterly “My, what a delicious army Joanna pulled off! Where is she, by the way? Crying and moaning about her dead farmer boy?”

The Commander ignored his childish provocation and cried “Prepare arms! Tense the arrows! Go to your positions!” He then looked at Elias “Her Imperial Highness offers you one more time to withdraw and accept exile for the rest of your life.”

He scowled “I’d rather die than be commanded by a whore who has no sense of duty, especially one who doesn’t have enough balls to attend the very same war she waged!”

Mr. Sinclaire was about to defend her when her voice resonated through the whole city “That’s one great advantage of mine: I don’t need balls to best you.”

The whole field illuminated itself with her magic, and a few miles away, a lighting came from, the outside and a ball of light exploded, her frame appearing in front of Elias’s army, her golden armour illuminating the shadowed city. Her eyes were amber and her hair sprawled around like a holy halo, blinding Elias for a hot moment before scowling.

“What makes you think you will best me?”

Joanna smirked “Come closer and find out.”

“…CHARGE! NO MERCY!” Elias cried out “AND LEAVE THE GIRL TO ME. SHE’S MINE!”

A shadowed version of the duke appeared, and Mr. Sinclaire charged towards him, his sword glowing with his aura, feeling his power on the hilt. Their swords clashed, and he glared at him. They parried and their duel became an intense and complicated dance, their swords clashing and swerving, darkness and light face to face.

“Give up, Sinclaire. I am the Duke of Karlington, and I cannot be bested!”

He dodged and blocked his attacks “You forget, that in battle titles do not matter,” he blocked another attack and saw his leg exposed to him “However… wits and skill do, and a great deal.” He sliced his leg and kicked his shin “You know what is your problem, Your Grace?” He looked at a panting Duke Richards “You underestimate too greatly the people beneath you.” Then, he kicked his jaw, hard, a satisfying crunch coming out and he fell on the floor, his figure disappearing.

Demons charged against Joanna and Odessa, their weapons—the family sword and Odessa’s twin daggers—and charged forward the demons. Their magical weapons did an opening, blinding the demons, thing that gave them time to slice their arms, earning a screech out of their toothful mouth. The creature screeched loudly, dark blood spilling on the ground. She then summoned part of her magic and sent a cutting attack, slicing the creature in half, killing it instantly. She smiled to herself, having faith that the battle would prove as fruitful as she hoped. A new cry of battle commanded her attention, and she gladly answered it.

Meanwhile, Annabelle found herself paralyzed and at utter loss: she had never fought anyone that wasn’t her sister. One thing was a petulant toddler and another thing were the creatures before her, terrifying as she feared. She grabbed her lasso and hoped for the best, but the creature was faster. She closed her eyes, waiting for her demise when something very powerful and ancient hit the creature and sent the creature flying far away and knocking it out. An elder woman with red flaming hair and golden eyes smiled warmly at her, “My dear Violetta, I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

She realised who she was “Are you his wife?” She swallowed hard and waited nervously for an answer.

“I am. He’s eager to meet you, my dear daughter.”

She took her warm hand, and somehow, it felt right. She swallowed and tears welled her eyes “So it’s true then? That I am a daughter of Lamrian?”

“The Duke’s no less, my child.” They both chuckled and were about to embrace when a roar interrupted the reunion “Duty calls. Why don’t you join us? You’ll soon command some of those troops…” She nodded to the fairy troops, all waiting for their Duchess’s command.

She smiled, “I’d love nothing more. Though, I have one question. You called me Violetta, why?”

“Because that is your name in Lamrian. Violetta Phyre Elricdotter, daughter of Duke Elric.”

She nodded and squinted her eyes “How about we show these men how it’s done?”

They both chuckled before attacking, both in unison and perfect harmony.

Back in Edgewater

Henrietta paced around like a caged lion, ranting endlessly, much to Dominique’s chagrin “I just can’t believe she’s been alive all along! God knows what that seductress has been up to. Probably off somewhere, up to no good who–”

“You do realise that if she had not intervened when those foul creatures came, we all would’ve perished? Be thankful that she did not feed you to them and do stop pacing and rambling nonsense, otherwise I will turn you to those creatures's mercy myself.”

Henrietta gasped at such a snap from the ever-composed dowager countess but said nothing of it, sitting on a corner, fuming. She wondered where her son had gone, alongside the servants. The moment the lockdown started as the three sisters had come to defend the estate, they had been short on water, food and candles, for Nene, the middle one, feared that they’d be drawn to the light, and the only place they wouldn’t dare come was the place where the former earl of the estate had died, thing that sent a shiver down to her spine. She had heard the stories of how he screamed nonsense about the lost heiress and how she’d be the demise of it all. Utter nonsense from a man that had turned mad. Though some change had come with that pesky redheaded singer’s daughter's arrival.

She was not well-versed in prophecies, but that Joanna was up to no good. Some servants had confessed they saw an odd light come off her room, a rare book with scribblings in Latin and many ancient languages, as well as reports of many people of the ton. She wasn’t a normal dumb village girl; she was smarter than she let on and had too many secrets. That, and many servants suspected that something odd happened during the night before the races, and that Joanna wasn’t seen in the incident of the races before Mr. Sinclaire carried her, imploring for a healer with Joanna full of scars and blood all over her body. That child was not normal, and she suspected she was above human. Another servant swore to see a scar of a wound she shouldn’t have survived, something big had bit her and she had survived. And the fact that she owned many weapons and knew many things she ought not to know till married was even odder. She had tried to reason with her husband to no avail. Henrietta suspected he knew about her origins, and the letters of Mary, or Odessa, or however that wench called herself informed of her true nature. She was going to discover it and expose her to the world, proving that Edmund was the rightful heir to Edgewater.

Meanwhile, the three sisters were fighting off the trolls and giants that had come to ransom the estate. Nya and Nene provided the most deadly and powerful attacks, while Odessa provided sneakier ones, tripping them and confusing them, a long tactic of hers. Though they were growing restless, they refused to give up.

“These things could run circles around us! We must do something!” Nya cried.

“Do any of you have any ideas?!” Nene asked.

“I do, but we’ve never done it since Ivan the Terrible’s raid to our respective lover’s villages!” Odessa suggested. The three of them snapped to her.

“Are you sure, Mimi?” Nya asked.

“It’ll take most of our energy.”

“It is the only way. We burst, they’ll all die and will have enough energy for the golems.”

The three sisters nodded in agreement before taking their hands and closed their eyes, focusing all of their energies to the monsters there and miles away. Their auras started to shine and they started floating, incantating even louder and harder, the ground shaking violently as they became blind and deaf, only feeling their power: raw, strong and powerful. She could feel Nene’s and Nya’s, and screamed as loud as she could muster, alongside her sisters, their power bursting through all of the county, the monster exploding and dying instantly. The three sisters panted and smirked. They all grabbed their sceptres and aimed at the golem’s hearts, and shot, the magical arrow hitting its target. The golems dropped dead and the three women whooped and cheered, hugging each other. The most difficult part was over, now the weaker rivals would come. The army beside them wasted no time in giving the ancient witches some of their energy.

One young girl had her hair woundly tied up, her throat visible, and Odessa stared at the pumped vein, and swallowed hard, feeling hungry. Very hungry. She shook her head and took a deep breath, ready to kick some more ass.

The battle started again, and Odessa, with her twin daggers, sliced and killed quickly, leaving no prisoners. One of the dark wizards lunged at her, and she wasn’t fast enough. He had her pinned and ready to kill her when she could no longer fight it. With supernatural strength, she pinned him and her fangs showed, biting his neck and in a matter of seconds had dried him up. She felt powerful, godly and unstoppable. Unkillable. Younger. Better. She started to fight again, killing and ripping mercilessly, feeling the power on her veins and whole body. She snapped a neck, killed and bit her way into the army, scaring her own allies, who recoiled at her with the cry of “Heretic!” but she did not feel that way. She channelled her magic and burned a man’s face before biting him and draining him.

She was angry. She was unhinged. She was vengeful. She was hungry. But best of all: she was reborn into a world where magic and blood existed.

She was the First Heretic, and wherever she went, as Nostradamus predicted, death and horror would follow and ensue.

Marianna had been preparing herself, and looked at her daughter, now hopeful that her daughter had a home where she’d prevail, looked at the kind woman: she was curvy, of caramel hair and sweet golden eyes, teaching her magic. All kinds of ancient wizards and witches had come and taken the opportunity to teach magic to this miraculous child that had been so long awaited. She had been at first reluctant, but enjoyed the attention very much. Her gaze came back to her letter and signed it with care, rereading the content again:

To my dear daughter Charlotte, or Augusta, or Edwina… to my little girl:

I do not know how this letter will find you; perhaps you will be a girl with that questioning spirit you had before you could even talk and walk. Or you may be a teenager exploring the world. Or maybe you’ll be a full woman, ready to take over the world by storm, full of opinions that shall never shatter.

There are so many things that you won’t understand… and you deserve an explanation.

You will hear many rumours about how you were brought to this world, so I shall answer all of your questions: it is true indeed that I was a worker at a house of ill repute. Yes, your father never loved me, but I like to think that he held me respect and kindness, and that, back then, it was all a girl needed, especially in my position. You were not in my plans, but for the moment I held you in my arms, I loved you so much, I knew that I had to do right by you. I got out of that vicious life to make you justice, and God gave us the best present: not only a good employer who loved you and even wished you to be his daughter, but also a better destiny for you than I could have… you’d be one day Empress of a great empire, chosen by ancient and powerful gods.

You may ask yourself why I never named you: it was not because I did not love you, but this world is a tricky one to live in: full of constant change, and danger, especially to us, the less fortunate. I was fearful that I may lose you, but you survived and thrived like no other, and that gave me a great relief.

I do not regret having you, or meeting your father. If so, the only thing I regret is the way you were brought to the world and the circumstances of it. Were I to have lived another life, a better one, perhaps my regret would be less. I haven’t led the most decorous, honourable life, you must know that, but if I were to live the same life, commit the same mistakes, I would do so, because it led me to you, my girl, my precious jewel.

In a few weeks’ time I’ll leave you forever until we are reunited again, but to you I will be a memory lost in your mind, more important things in your mind to care who your mother was once. I ask nothing of you, but I beg this to you, if you’d like: be strong. Never forget who you were once, or your roots. Never forget who was kind to you, and always be yourself, because when you do so, you represent the very best in me. Oh, one last thing: never let anyone let you down, especially not men. Because, before being anything or anyone, you’re my daughter, and you’re just as unapologetic and resilient as I.

I shall wait for you to come back home, to my arms forevermore.

With all the love in my heart, soul and being,

Mama.

She looked again at the kind woman. Her name was Guinevere, but everyone called her Gwen. She had this sweet yet wise and old demeanour.

“Now, close your eyes and tell me, what do you feel?”

“Pain, blood and darkness.”

She nodded and handed her an orb “Now, grab this orb and call the light to it and tell that darkness to go away. Bring in the light. Bring them back to the light.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and her hands soon burned with bright, heavenly light. The orb vibrated with light, and soon the city was summed into light. Marianna and Gwen closed their eyes and shielded themselves, and soon the clashes of swords and cries of battles ceased in numbers.

A few minutes passed before an orange light and cheers from the army was heard. That little girl was not only what the Grand Seer had described to be, but had proved to be her, the chosen one; the awaited Golden Empress.

Back in Edgewater, Briar paced around Edgewater, bossing people around and made sure that everyone in the basement was provided for, given the fact that most of the staff had been blinded by the burst of light. She was yet to come to terms with this hidden world, but she had learned a few things.

She was so immersed in her thoughts; she did not notice Mr. Woods calling for her “Briar! I have been looking for you! May I be so bold to ask for a few minutes with you… alone?”

“Oh! Of course.” They went to the drawing room and sat down, and Briar looked inquisitively at him “Is something the matter, Arthur?”

“Yes, it is. I… I have fought in vain to pretend I didn’t care. That this feeling would pass and I could move on, but I can no longer retain it: I love you, Briar Daly, with all of me. I–I do not expect you to return my feelings or have an answer, but you must know, for neither my heart nor good sense can no longer hide it. My heart, body, soul and entire being is yours to take, and you alone are the bane of my existence and my soul’s most ardent desire.”

Briar had lost her breath to such a speech, and swallowed hard “Arthur… I–I do not know what to say…” She did not expect that. She was entirely paralysed, caught off guard. All her life, she always thought she’d have a witty answer to that, but there he was now, heart in a fist, begging her to end his torture, and yet, she could not reach the remedy. A certain blonde man with eyes of the colour of the sea called her attention, as his own eyes, as blue as the skies back in Grovershire, too commanded it. But whoever could she really give her heart? She thought that at the moment, she’d known, but she was now utterly confused.

“Do not answer me now, my sweet. Later.” He kissed her forehead gently and lovingly, and left the room.

She took a deep breath and went on to find Mr. Marlcaster to see if anything else was needed when she was grabbed by the waist and pulled towards a room: the earl’s study. She was about to cry for help when a warm hand covered her mouth and turned her around to see who was the kidnapper in question: no one else than Mr. Marlcaster.

“Edmund! You gave me a fright!”

“Forgive me, but this is the only place where we cannot be spotted.”

“Whatever for?”

He swallowed hard “I…I…” Before he could utter a word, he instead kissed her in a searching kiss where words were not needed. All feelings and words left unsaid were there, and he broke the kiss to peck her nose “I…I am not a man of speeches. If the love I bear for you were less, I could muster more words to express it. But… my heart sings for you so, I find myself stuttering like a fool. The love I bear for you is so great, this frail body I am in cannot express it as you deserve.” he took her hands and kissed them with utter devotion and adoration “My sweet Briar… if you could see yourself as I see you… if only you could see my heart… you’d understand, and I’d be able to cease those doubts in your head. You are my heart, my soul, the very reason I am able to breathe and the one soul that gives this grey world light and beauty. The strength you give me is such that I could burn the whole world and bring the moon to your feet at your command.” He gazed into her eyes intently “One word, my darling flower, and I shall leave this very room and remain silent till my soul leaves my body. However, if your sentiments are that strong… I beg of you to end this torment and tell me so, for I cannot bear to be parted from you ever again. And I–I love… I love…” He took a deep breath and their noses touched gently “I love you, Briar Daly. With everything that I am. And I can no longer fight against it anymore. I refuse to fight such a pure, natural and beautiful feeling, the only good thing I have left. The best thing to have happened in my life. My heart’s only, ardent and most powerful desire.”

Briar took a deep breath and squeezed his hand “Edmund… I want nothing more than to answer you, but there are people here, outside this room, that need us. That needs you, with Joanna absent defending London. But I promise… I will let you know my answer. You have my word.”

He kissed her hands and said “I have waited for someone like you my whole life. I can wait a few more hours.”

They both parted ways, not before smiling at each other again.

Ernest had been fending off his rivals as he became fully acquainted with his newfound powers, a powerful rush in his hands. He was unsure at first, but he grew confident by the minute, and was actually certain that they’d win this battle.

He parried and lunged attacks, though he could tell the army was growing tired and needed a break, and there was no backup. The rivals laughed and Elias smirked “Seems like you are losing more men than individual battles, Vunera. Are you quite sure you can defeat us?”

“I am certain. Are you sure you can handle defeat, old dog?”

Some people laughed at her remark, and he couldn’t help but snicker at it. He sneered, “Petulant child. You will learn your place.”

The ground then started to shake. A new light came out of the sky, and when he looked up… people declared dead came from the portals and sources of light, thousands of them. Giants, amazons… The most powerful creatures were here, and they were on their side. They united Joanna, and looked at each other before lunging at them, newfound energy among them. Amazons, armies, powerful mages like Merlin himself were here. They were saved, and the course of the battle had turned.

The new armies clashed as many of the new recruits fended off the bigger demons, and he swore he saw Joanna’s renowned grandmother Vivienne, who had been a raiser of the unliving and a grand seer, was now killing and knocking enemies like she had done this a million times.

Joanna and Ernest looked at each other, and then to the others, and finally joined their comrades, with a more powerful feeling that their enemy could not match: they were not alone in this. Beyond death and earth, everyone wanted her to succeed.

Ernest looked to one side to find his own father, fighting flawlessly, and he looked at him, his own messy hair and blue eyes “Give them hell, my son.”

He nodded, full of emotion “Like a Sinclaire would do it.”

Father and son fought in unison, enemies falling like leaves in winter, gaining more ground. He could see Luke and his father as well, back-to-back as they too gained more ground. Miss Parsons was with a red headed fairy, both knocking out monsters, her with her lasso, and the elder woman with fairy magic.

But then, he spotted someone very dangerous, and before he could say who he was, he knocked his father aside. He called for him, and that was a mistake, for when he looked up, he was about to meet his end when an amber light covered him, protecting him from harm, sending Elias away. He then looked up to see Joanna herself, panting and with an emotion he never saw on her face: fear.

They looked at each other for a few seconds before hugging each other tightly “You damn, heroic, brave fool. I could’ve lost you.” She cupped his face in her hands “I cannot lose you, do you hear me?! We… the world cannot afford to lose you. You still have so much to give, to teach, to learn, to do… don’t you ever do that again, alright? For me. For her. For us.”

Their foreheads touched and he nodded “I promise. I shall not be that sloppy again. You have my word.”

They lingered there for a moment, forgetting about the battle, the attack; the world ceased to exist for a moment, only them and a promise of a lifetime together. They reluctantly broke the embrace and wished each other good luck and both came back to their respective places.

The moment had come. The dark soldiers stopped fighting and Elias called out Joanna’s name, throwing the gauntlet. Joanna picked it defiantly. He had challenged her for a duel, and she had accepted. This was it.

She picked her sword and parried his attack, an intense duel coming in. Their swords clashed and ringed, their gazes never leaving the other, adamant on killing one another “Have I ever told you how foolish you were on giving yourself to that farm boy?”

“And have I ever told you that your mortal horsemanship is as lacking as your libido according to my mother?”

He growled “Liar! I am very capable!”

She smirked, “Tell that to the nuns in Kent.”

He lunged at her violently and she dodged every movement, striking back harder and better, her training paying off. She did not notice though, the more focused they were on one another, the higher they floated.

“Your father didn’t deserve your mother. His family were all scourges! He was too weak to be a leader!” He cried.

“And yet, she chose him, and proved to be a million times the man you could ever aspire to be!”

He roared in fury and lunged at her with a deadly blow she could hardly dodge, slicing her arm. She seethed, but remained as she was. They parried as they bickered “You are petulant… entitled…selfish…bossy…unworthy… and just like your aunt, a whore!”

Her fury was such, her own magic shielded her from the attack “Do not call her that! She was forced! However could she have consented to it?!”

She started to attack herself with far stronger and more passionate blows “If so… the whore here… was him!” She cried and kicked him hard on the stomach, making him double in pain “For his descendants have a tendency to force young women! You yourself inhabit the body of that SEX OFFENDER!” She cried out loud, gaining the gasps of everybody present.

They parried even harder, their blows growing deadlier and stronger to the point they were at the highest, and Elias did a terrible mistake as he gloated “Sex offender or not, I will prove to your mother I am the only one for her. I will kill you, and will conquer everyone in this world. I WILL BE KING OF ALL EMPIRES IN THE GALAXY, AND YOU WILL NOT STOP ME–”

With a swift movement, she sliced the head off his neck, killing him instantly, raging on her entire body “I believe I just did.”

Before she could react, a heavenly light blinded her, and she felt herself being dragged up, somewhere outside where she was. She closed her eyes, allowing her superiors to claim her. She didn’t dare to open her eyes, not yet.

“You’ve come a long way, child,” said a godly voice “you’ve evolved and fulfilled your destiny. You have one last task and you will join us. Cleanse this planet off the pest, child. Forget about harnessing it. Forget about control. Forget about the small power on the orb. Unleash every inch of power you’ve got, and show your enemies you are the sole ruler and protector of this land.”

She gathered all of herself, every inch of power, every single part of her vibrated, and when she opened her eyes, the planet where she lived was before her. She extended her hands… and unleashed her power, slowly entrapping it in her power. The more energy she demanded, the more she bled, the more holes she bled. But she did not stop. She had just begun the cleansing. She screamed at the pain and power she felt, and the planet started to look amber, and it was halfway through the process. She demanded even more, even though it’d tire her to death, but refused to stop. More waves of power came through her and the process became faster. She could feel darkness leaving every corner of every town in the world. Her scream became high-pitched, and her whole world around her shook violently, but she still didn’t stop. With one more push, she mustered the one wave of energy left she had and completed it with a strong ending, with everything shaking. Before she could even see her masterpiece, she felt like falling, and closed her eyes, embracing once more the darkness.

When she opened her eyes, the gold and white blinded her momentarily. She shook her head and her view then adjusted to the feeling. She looked up to see the Almighty, and quickly bowed “Your Holiness. You honour me by bringing me here.”

“Rise, Vunera,” they said “for you are now one of us. You have completed your tasks and met your destiny. You are a full deity, and a powerful one. But before we proceed, I must ask you a question that will forever change the pace of your life: do you wish to join us in eternal life and bliss, or do you prefer to remain among humans, my child?”

She gulped, fully knowing there was no coming back. This was it. But could she really leave them all behind? Could she really just disappear and leave everybody to fend for themselves? Leave that child on her own? After a few minutes of deliberation, she looked up at her one superior “I wish to remain among humans, Your Holiness.”

“Are you certain?”

She looked up to him “I am, Your Holiness.”

She could feel them making a face “Very well. You may proceed, Artemis.”

“Wha–” Before she could finish her sentence, she felt an excruciatingly painful sting on her stomach, like she was being torn apart. She gasped and saw her holy hand on her belly, ripping off the last thing that linked her with humans. She twisted it and she screamed bloody murder and fell as the goddess took her womb with it. She bled, cried and lamented her loss. She knew there’d be a price, but this was not what she planned. The Almighty passed down their hand on her wound and healed it “I am sorry for your loss, my child, but it is for the best.”

The world seemed to be back to how it was. Except for one thing: the demons and dark army were no longer there. It was gone. They had won. She laughed, forgetting for one moment her pain. She had made it! They had come out victorious!

The army erupted in cheers, celebrating their victory. Many groups hugged one another, and many talked about going to any taverns and singing and dancing till they all dropped dead.

Joanna smiled at her inmates, proud of her accomplishment. Everyone started to chant her name and clap at her, cheering and whooping. Joanna smiled widely, relishing on her victory, savouring it with everything that she had. She had worked hard. She had lost and now she had won. The world was at peace. With Elias, all of the necromancers had died. She had fulfilled her destiny and role.

But little she knew, there was one last soldier left standing. And he wanted her dead. He picked up the blood soaked in their blood, and seething, he aimed at her. To the spot between her spine and heart.

As Joanna celebrated, she did not notice anything at all. The world seemed lighter, better. She was far too distracted by the cheering and songs of victory. A mistake she’d kick herself for the rest of her life.

There was a small whistle, a shout from the crowd to watch out, and she looked up again… to see everyone with wide eyes, looking at her with horror. She looked down… to see the sword on her chest.

She couldn’t react. She simply started to fall, the world stopping and becoming darker and slower. She looked up and saw him: those blue and grey eyes, glassy with tears and trembling with fear and sadness “Joanna…” He was holding her in his arms, lovingly and with every fibre of his being scared to death. Of her death. He cradled her face and neck devotedly, repressing sobs.

She coughed, knowing this could happen and she had no time “It’s alright,” she managed to say between short breaths “it’s fine—,”

“Don’t say that.” His voice was hoarse and at the peak of breaking.

“I need to say it… let me speak while I can.” She knew the feeling very well. She knew how little time she had.

He shook his head, his hands cradling her. He was crying, and he minded little of the audience.

“You and I… the five of us… we were destined to this from the moment the man became the homo sapiens. We were destined to meet. And… I wouldn’t trade it. I’m… thankful… for having met all of you and had this adventure, to cross paths with you.” He kissed her hand, now weeping “The girl… she’s so much more than your blood. Her destiny is bigger than us. She one day will reign and unite what I could not. Promise…me…” she started to breathe hard, struggling not to give into darkness “you won’t… turn… your back…on her…” she wheezed “let me go… embrace her… for… she… is… the very best… of you…” she coughed as she noticed her legs were now ash “You… must know… that I… I love… I love y—,”

Before she could finish, she turned into ash, the wind carrying it. He called out to her, grabbing her like she was life itself.

Joanna Mills was dead. She was gone. Turned into dust, literally speaking. She had been there for a moment, and now she was not. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t erase her glassy eyes and her awfully pale face, nor her normally pink lips now blue and purple, or her shaky breath. Nor her equally shaky voice, normally full of confidence and unwavering. It was like his heart had fallen to a bottomless pit, and he couldn’t find an escape.

But he had made a promise. She had asked him one last thing, and he’d honour her. For her alone, he’d do it. Composing himself for the day, he shakily got up and called off the battle, and everyone started to get ready to march home. He was about to start walking when a small tingle called his attention. He looked down to see a locket. J + T, 1813. Joanna’s engagement locket. He caressed it, the owner’s warmth still in it. A small tear ran down his cheek, and quickly shook his head. He’d cry for her later. First, he needed to go home.

When he arrived, the first thing he received was mail. His valet gasped at the sight of his master: he was covered in strange blood, his ringlets now messy and everywhere, with a strange armour and blood on his hand.

“Invitation for the duke’s ball, sir.” He handed it, and when he picked it up, a memory came to him: Duke Richards, picking a soaked sword and throwing it to somebody. To Joanna. He gasped, his heart beating at the pace of a hummingbird and the shock quickly turned into rage. It was him. Of course it was him!

“FUCK!” He screamed, kicking his ottoman. He passed down a hand over his hair, trembling of pure, rage “That bastard couldn’t have her, so he had to take her life, he just had to fucking take her life!” He screamed, his whole body trembling, only rage inhabiting his body. He screamed as her dying face passed on his head again. He fell on his knees and his hands turned into fists, his nails stabbing the sensitive skin. He let out all of the feelings “Of all the things he could take! Of all the fucking things, it had to be her!” He sobbed, his face turning red and he noticed his own blood on his hand “He is that fucking selfish and entitled, he had to kill her! Her, of all people!” He wished to go to his estate and unleash his rage upon him, killing him himself. Then, something fell in front of him. A miniature of her. Her cheeky smile and beautiful eyes before him. He immediately softened and his voice of reason called to him.

Think of her. She wouldn’t want you to spill his blood on hot-blooded revenge. She’d want him to face justice. She’d ask of you to be wise and bide your time.

He finally sat down, and started to sob uncontrollably, pain and anguish domineering his usually calm demeanour. For a moment, it only existed his cries of pain and utter despair and nothing else mattered. Nothing save his pain and love for her and her late father.

Prince Misha had volunteered to tell the family of Joanna’s tragic passing. He was quickly and eagerly received by Grand Duchess Odessa, her sisters and both dowager countesses. He sighed as tears pricked his eyes, nodding negatively. The dowager countess fell on her knees, now overcome with grief and trembling. The other dowager countess, Henrietta, made a face and looked away, distraught.

“What happened? Misha, what happened? Where is my daughter?” Nene wept with helplessness as Nya wept openly.

“I am sorry, Your Grace. She is gone. A few hours ago, by a sword soaked in blood that killed her in a matter of minutes.”

She shook her head “No… NO. I created an unkillable warrior, a goddess! I made her so she would never die! She has blood of the best–,”

“Stop it, Odessa!” Nene yelled “She is dead. Do you hear me? Your daughter’s dead.”

“No…no… she can’t…” She started sobbing, holding her stomach like she was being torn apart. Then, Briar, Edmund and the rest of the ton came, and Briar soon noticed the ambiance and a cry of pain came out of her, dropping to her knees. Miss Sutton joined her in grief, as well Edmund. Many gasped, too distraught. She was quite a controversial figure, but the death of someone young, especially an heiress, was always quite horrifying. He decided it was his time to go, and he was about to start leaving when Nya asked “Did she suffer?”

He swallowed hard and mustered those last words “She died in the arms of someone who loved her like life itself, surrounded by her friends and allies, knowing she had won.”

With that, not bearing this any longer, he left, trying to ignore the sobs and wails of the loved ones.

Annabelle had gone to the faeries' camps when she was informed of Joanna’s death. She immediately dropped her tea and started to cry, not believing it. Killed by a sword soaked in blood. Within minutes, turned into ash. Thalissa comforted her, and she cried till dawn. She looked at her and begged her to take her with her to train and not return to London or England ever again.

“It is unwise to run from one’s pain, child. It will eventually haunt us till we either face it or turn mad.”

“I have nothing left in this goddamn town. My whole family hates me and thinks of me as a doll to auction. The woman I love is dead. And I hate everything related to society. Please, take me away from this.”

She sighed “Very well. I shall send some men to arrange your departure and grab your things–”

“I want nothing from that cursed house. I want to leave everything behind. This life included.”

“...As you wish, dear.”

The moment she retired to bed, she started to cry, her face deep buried on her pillow, letting go of all grief, rage and helplessness she ever felt. She allowed it all to consume her for a while, trying to get her face of helplessness out of her system, but to no avail. She did not know when she fell asleep. She only remembered the chirping of the birds, and Thalissa’s hand on her back.

Luke Harper had seen many comrades die. It should’ve been natural to him now, but many years had passed, and Joanna was no mere comrade. She was so much more than that. She had been the reason everyone gathered. The leader. And now she is gone.

With silent tears, he poured himself some liquor and stared at the fire, the same tone of her beautiful hair. The most magnificent hair he had ever witnessed. He wiped his tears as his mother and little brother Benjamin came to hug him. He inhaled their scents. His mother’s, rosewater and herbs, and his brother’s, earl grey tea and grass. He kissed his head and squeezed his mother’s hand “I am so sorry for your loss, darling. I know how much you… cared for the woman.”

“I just can’t believe she is gone. Everyone thought her invincible, unkillable. We thought all would be over, but then, we all saw that sword on her heart and couldn’t do anything to stop it. It all happened too fast… I should’ve reacted sooner. I should’ve expected it. I–,”

“Don’t beat yourself up for it, Luke. No one could have known. You said it, it all happened too fast. And I’m sure Lady Joanna wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for it.”

He took a shaky breath “I was put here to protect her. I gave her my word that no harm would come her way, but now… she’s gone, and she’s not coming back.”

“Oh, my boy…” His mother hugged him as he lingered on little Benjamin’s sleepy arms, leaning on his loved ones, allowing himself to grieve and cry. After that, he’d find her killer and bring it to justice, no matter what.

Hamid had been awfully silent all the way back home. He was in complete disbelief. Someone as powerful as Joanna was dead, gone. And he didn’t have the chance to comfort her. He hadn’t been fast enough. Although, he was sure that he would not have been suitable for such a thing. The last thing Joanna needed was someone strong and who could bring her comfort, not a puddle of grief and nerves. He was sure Mr. Sinclaire had done right by her. Of all of them, he was the most noble and honourable, therefore the most suited. He only wished he had told her how he felt…

When he came to his apartments, Mr. Konevi rushed to comfort an old friend and together they cried the loss of a friend, confidante, fellow socialite and could’ve-been-lover and soulmate. Joanna Mills was gone and he felt his heart fall to a bottomless pit, his heart and part of his soul leaving with her. He cried all night, wishing he could do anything, but he had no energy whatsoever. He’d conclude his business in the Parliament and leave to never return. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear such memories of someone he loved very deeply. He just wasn’t strong enough.

At least Mr. Konevi still had his beloved with him. As long as there was a place for love in this world, he’d be content, no matter how heavy his heart was now.

Days later, Ernest Sinclaire was attending to some paperwork when his valet knocked on the door. He looked up and he announced “Miss Howard is here, sir. Shall I make her come in?”

A few days ago, twelve hours after Joanna’s death, a letter from Miss Howard given by Mr. Chambers came, asking for an audience of a pressing matter that needed his attention at once. He had accepted, intrigued by what she could say to him. Though in no mood to receive anyone, he had to press forward; too many people were counting on him, and Joanna would’ve wanted him to go on and attend his tenants.

A quiet knock called him, and he asked her to come in: she was now older than he first remembered, the signals of age and tiredness on her face, but her demeanour remained composed and she was able to bow politely “Mr. Sinclaire. I thank you for attending me in such haste. It mustn’t be easy, after your friend’s passing.”

He could only nod “Thank you kindly, Miss Howard. Please, take a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“I’m good.” There was a pause before she cleared her throat “If I can be honest… I do not know where to begin, despite having rehearsed this conversation for years… Um, after our last meeting, I worked as a maid at your friend’s house, and he was kind, but… I found out I was with child. Your child. I was a tad scared. As you know, my age was not ideal to have children, but all I could do was go on… I didn’t name her, fearful that she might succumb to influenza or any other infant illness, but… she thrived, but as you know, the world is changing. I thought that at the age of five I could send her to work… until a month ago I met your late friend, Lady Joanna. She told me that this child… this daughter of ours was destined to take on her role one day and had been long awaited.” She chuckled “Incredible, is it not?”

Mr. Sinclaire had stopped truly listening from the moment she said ‘child’ and ‘daughter’. He had a child, a daughter… and he had not been there for her! He was utterly horrified “Miss Howard, I… I am so sorry. I–I should’ve been there, I–,”

“No. I made the decision of you not meeting her. I thought you’d remarry and forget about us, but it seems like it was quite the opposite.” She smiled to herself “She might be only three, but she is so much like you: same unruly hair, same inquisitive eyes, beautiful freckles, keen mind and a love for poetry and hunger of knowledge, as well as thoughtfulness and emotional intelligence. Every time she speaks, I think of you. I wished to take her to you sooner, but I was afraid that you’d shun me–,”

“I would never do such a thing, less alone to the mother of my only child.” He assured her, taking her hand, colder than usual, “However, I must ask… why are you telling me this now, Miss Howard?”

She swallowed hard “Because I am dying, sir. I am expected to part this Wednesday. My skin and bones are already failing me, and every day I am weaker. And please, spare me the doctors. Your friend herself said that there was no coming back. I’ll die either way, so… I bring her to you, in hopes that you’ll give her a better life than I could ever do.”

“Are you certain, Marianna?”

She nodded “I am. I made up my mind long ago. Please, do not make this any more difficult. Do it for her.”

He nodded “If that is what you want, then so be it. I will not get in your way. However, I shall not deprive you of a final goodbye to your…our little girl.”

“Would it be alright for you to take on her this week’s end?”

He smiled weakly, “I’d love nothing more. May I… May I see her?”

Marianna smiled as she called for the valet “Please, would you be so kind to bring her in?”

“Certainly, ma’am.”

Mr. Sinclaire held his breath, hearing the small steps coming closer to the office “Mr. Sinclaire, may I present to you our daughter?”

The door opened to reveal a young girl, no more than three years old, with golden hair and deep blue eyes like his own, a small shy and nervous demeanour and small freckles on her face, like his mother had. She bowed to him “Nice to meet you, sir.”

He let out the deep breath he did not notice he had been holding. In that moment, he felt an immense love like never before. He was extremely nervous. He didn’t think himself worthy of such a small blessing. All his life, it had just been him, but now, there was a small girl who needed him and depended on him. It was the most paralysing and wonderful fear his heart ever felt before. And he was adamant to do right by her, no matter what.

He cleared his throat and knelt down and smiled at her “Hello, beautiful. I’m Mr. Ernest Sinclaire, but you may call me Ernest. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Marianna smiled at both of them “I shall leave you to bond. May I take a peek at the gardens?”

“Please.”

She left, leaving both of them alone. He quickly sat her on the chair and cleared his throat “I confess I am quite nervous.” He smiled bashfully.

“Me too. I’ve never had a dad before.”

He swallowed hard “I’ve never been one, but… I’m willing to learn. For you.”

She smiled and looked away. She looked at his collection of books “Do you read, si–Ernest?”

He smiled brightly “Books are my greatest solace. Are you an avid reader too?”

She nodded eagerly “I love reading! Mr. Chambers always lets me borrow his books.”

He smiled and noted to himself to thank Mr. Chambers for being a father to his little girl. He took a tome of Shakespeare and showed it to her “My favourite author of all time. Would you like me to read to you?”

“Please!”

He smiled and invited her to sit on her lap, which she accepted shyly. He started reading, his soothing voice enthralling the young girl, watching him talk and express feelings sweetly. For one moment, there was no pain or grief or nervousness, only him and that little girl who had now won his heart in a matter of minutes. She had her little head on his chest, listening intently to him and observing the book. Once he finished, he placed her back on the floor gently and smiled at her. She was his. His little girl. His daughter. His heir. His heart.

“Is your house that big, Ernest?”

He chuckled “Not as many others, but it is big enough. Would you like me to tour you?”

“Yes!” She squealed eagerly and he offered his hand and she took it, strolling to the different rooms, and the girl was in awe with the property, looking at everything, and eventually showed her a special room.

“This will be your room, if you’d like to stay. I would love nothing more.” He smiled and looked away, focusing on the smoothness and warmth of her small hand compared to his gigantic hands and long fingers.

“Really? Can I bring my dolls and books and brush?!” She asked eagerly.

He smiled sweetly at her “That and more. Should you want anything, I’ll gladly give it to you.”

“Really?!”

He nodded and she hugged him. He stopped breathing for one moment. His heart, body and soul soared at the feeling. She was extremely warm and cuddly, her long hair was soft and she smelled so nice… rosemary, soap and pine. He hugged her back tightly, kissing her head, tears of joy and love running down his cheeks.

“I’m happy I’ve met you, sir.”

“I’m happy too.” He managed to say, lost in her embrace.

The two of them separated and he wiped his tears “Oh no! Have I made you sad?”

He shook his head “On the contrary, sweetheart. You’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

The two of them eventually joined Marianna in the fountain, which she was watching thoughtfully. The girl ran towards her mother and hugged her “I trust you two had fun?”

“We did! He’s the best!”

His heart soared again with inebriating joy. Marianna whispered something to her and she went to inspect the gardens. Marianna looked now at him “There is one matter we haven’t discussed yet. Her name.”

He nodded “I hope we both can agree that she is deserving of a good name.”

Marianna looked lovingly at her “She is destined to be a great queen who will bring glory and peace to the empire, will she not? Well, she deserves a name of such a destiny.”

He looked at her thoughtfully and said “Elizabeth. Her name must be Elizabeth, like Elizabeth I, who brought peace and glory to the country under her rule, that reached the golden age.”

They kept discussing her full name until they finally agreed on it: Elizabeth Valeria Lydia Charlotte Victoria Ophelia Sinclaire, Imperial Princess of Dracaria and daughter of Ernest Sinclaire and Joanna Mills. He has asked her if it was alright with her to take Joanna’s name, and she nodded “Her fortune, influence and contacts will give her many chances I lacked as a girl. Besides, she’s her heir, is she not? It is time people see it that way, starting with taking her name.”

Ernest was a bit hurt that Joanna didn’t tell him about Elizabeth, but was thankful that she brought them together. He wished that they had talked about it, though, but now he had to fulfil her dying wish: dedicate himself truly and earnestly to her. And he would. Because he was not only a man of his word, but also loved her enough to stop his grieving to raise his daughter.

He bid farewell to the girls and when he was to embrace Elizabeth goodbye, she kissed his cheek, thanking him, and he stopped, then smiled widely and kissed her hand, telling her he was looking forward to seeing her again.

During these days he had been lost, looking for a will to live, and Miss Howard had delivered him the most unexpected and beautiful gift he could ever ask for. He had much to do, and thus called his staff, informing them that the future mistress of Ledford Park would come soon, and they were surprised at the announcement: they had thought that Mr. Sinclaire would marry Lady Joanna and together they’d have children. During that time, he thought of Joanna’s father, the earl. He never had the joy of having a proper goodbye with the mother of his child, nor having enough time to raise her and cherish her, but he knew he’d want him to treasure every moment and not let anyone hold him back, and he’d honour his memory. He just wished he were there to deliver wise advice on everything, especially being the father of a young girl. But above all, he missed Joanna. He missed her surprising wisdom and her light, and how much braver he was with her. He wished he could perform any magic to ask her the million questions roaming in his mind, but alas, he couldn’t. But maybe he could spill out his heart at the public mass and private funeral– Briar insisted that Joanna said once that if she died and every person who hadn’t been close to her came and threw a party, she’d be very pissed.

He’d throw a dinner to celebrate his daughter and to honour Joanna. Not what she’d like, but it was his duty as someone who was close to her and loved her dearly. He picked paper and ink and started to write down his speech. Then, he asked his trusted maid to take him tomorrow morning to design a bedroom made for a princess and to call the modiste, for she would have only the best clothes he could provide.

Joanna didn’t know how much time had passed; if days, months or years. She just knew that everything hurt and she was no longer in England, but somewhere colder and darker. She coughed and could taste the metallic taste of her blood and how every joint, bone, muscle and many other organisms she wasn’t aware she owned until now hurted. She realised she was in a church– a Russian orthodox church to be exact. Many of her bones cracked and she groaned, getting up rather painfully. She looked around to see a cloaked figure and she approached it “Where am I? Who are you?”

“I am a messenger of the Almighty,” ah yes, the motherfucker who took off her womb “I have come to give you one last mission.”

“Yay, another mission where I can get killed. How positively exciting.” She sassed, rolling her eyes and wiping the blood from her eyes and nose “Must be my most favourite thing in the world.”

“If you are quite done,” the figure grunted, “I must tell you your mission before my time runs out.”

“Do go on and I’ll see if I should give a damn.”

The cloaked figure looked at her, and she gasped at the view: The Fate “I will overlook your jesting because I know you’ll give a damn once I tell you. Once you recover, you’ll have to go to France and rescue your brother and uncover a traitor who’s working with your killer. You’ll decide if they get Dracarian or English justice. And after that, go to the Ottoman empire and try to win over the sultan in the Dracarian graces. You have two months. Best of luck, child.”

“Wait, Fate, I–,” But she was gone.

She sighed and started to walk. Everyone back at home thought her dead. She walked and walked, and found a pillar. She was tired, hungry, angry, thirsty and utterly done. She had lost so much, and now she was away from home and her loved ones. She had gone through so much, and for what? She couldn’t stand it any longer. She fell to her knees and screamed at the top of her lungs, a sound earthquake following her “I’M DONE WITH THIS FUCKING BULLSHIT!! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I’VE LOST EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE I’VE EVER LOVED!! MY PARENTS, MY FIANCÉ AND FIRST LOVE, MY HOME, MY FRIENDS, AND FOR WHAT?! FOR. FUCKING. WHAT?! POWER? DID YOU EVER ASK IF I WANTED THIS?! IF I WANTED TO ENDURE THIS?! DID YOU HAVE TO BE THIS FUCKING SELFISH?! MUST I DO WHAT YOU SAY AND JUST BE ALRIGHT WITH IT?! WHAT ABOUT MY HOPES, MY DREAMS, MY AMBITIONS?! HOW COME THEY DO NOT FUCKING MATTER IN THIS?! HOW COME WHAT I WANT AND WISH FOR DOES NOT FUCKING MATTER?! AH YES, BECAUSE ALL THAT MATTERS IS YOUR FUCKING PLAN, AND AS LONG AS YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT, NO ONE ELSE MATTERS, HUH?! IS THAT IT?!” She signalled at the sky “I fucking hate you. You did this to me. Just because I chose the unconventional choice, you had to rub it to my face, for the ‘greater good’? Greater good my ass! Fuck you, Almighty, and your fucking plan, and everyone! FUCK YOU!” She showed them both middle fingers and got up, but as she walked, she felt weaker and at one point, she fell into the snow.

Luckily, a kind servant of the Kremlin soon found her and informed the guards. The tsar soon recognised the Dracarian princess and soon had her in a comfortable room to rest and recover. After three days, she woke up.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days, madam. Is there anything you’d like?”

“I’ll need clothes and a pass for a boat to France. I must part as soon as I can.”

“What have you lost in France, my child?”

“...My little brother is in danger.”

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missameliep · 4 years ago

Text

Somewhere In Time - Desire & Decorum (Modern/Time Travel AU)

Book: Desire and Decorum Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth Foredale (OC) Characters: Elizabeth (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster; Earl of Edgewater (Vincent); Maria (OC); Dowager Countess Dominique; Countess Henrietta; Annabelle Parsons; Harry Foredale. Rating: M Warnings: mentions to death (non-descriptive); minor characters’ death. Word count: 8k

Summary: If you had the chance to fix the past and allow someone else’s happiness at the possible expense of your own future, would you do it? Elizabeth faces this dilemma when she wakes up one morning and realizes she is no longer in 2019. How will her actions impact the future?

Notes: * All characters belong to PixelBerry, except OCs. * English is not my first language. * This is my submission to CFWC Nerd Week - Prompt: Day 2 - Time Travel. Thank you for hosting this event @choicesficwriterscreations and congratulations on the blog’s 1st anniversary!

December 24th, 2019.

Calmness had settled over Edgewater manor.

Marking the passage of the hours, a centuries old pendulum clock stands like an imposing guard at the foyer, ticking regularly, reminding time do not stand still. The smaller hand points at eleven. Ticktock. And the bigger one approaches the three.

One could mistake that for any ordinary night and even forget Christmas would be celebrated the next day, if not for the greenery and fairy-lights from the elegant decorations and the persistent smell of cinnamon from the rabanadas[1] Elizabeth prepared with Briar and Mrs Daly’s aid and were eagerly devoured by some and eyed with suspicious or disgust by others – and by others I mean Countess Henrietta, Elizabeth’s step mother.

Once, Christmas’s Eve used to be more festive at the manor with friendly gatherings, singing and children’s anxiously inspecting the pile of presents under the decorated tree at the drawing room, guessing the contents of the boxes wrapped in colourful papers and tied with perfect bows. However, those days are in the past and the Earl of Edgewater’s daughter never partake in any of those joyous celebrations for a myriad of inexcusable reasons.

Except for the two couples at the living room, cosily snuggling in blankets, everyone else had retreated to their rooms after dinner. Most of the staff was dismissed by the Earl to celebrate the holidays with their own families, and the few employers working that day were given the night off. Only the Countess complained about it. For Elizabeth and Hamid, this was a chance to have the kitchen entirely to themselves.

Before the four started binge-watching Outlander, Elizabeth prepared popcorn and brigadeiro[2] with her boyfriend’s help, which consisted mostly of handing packages and distracting her with teasing kisses on her neck while she stirred the mixture in the pan and begging to taste it despite being too hot. On their turn, Briar and Edmund took all the time in the world retrieving bags of chips and cans of soda and beer from the pantry next doors.

The soft yellow glow from the fairy lights of one of the many Christmas’s trees decorating the house was the only other source of light besides the television. A bowl of popcorn on her lap, Elizabeth has her eyes glued at the large screen, despite having watched the series before. Amused, Hamid throws an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. The woman smiles and nestles on his chest, earning a kiss on the top of her head.

“How do you like it?” she asks him softly.

“The series?” Hamid says, “It’s good.”

“I cannot believe you guys never watched Outlander…”

“Better late than never…” Briar says and leans closer to Elizabeth, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone, “By the way, does it make me a horrible person that I was totally turned on by that whipping scene?”

Elizabeth chuckles at the unexpected remark, but the man massaging Briar’s feet is not as amused.

“I’m right here, baby,” Edmund complains.

Scooting closer, Briar wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek.

“I love you, Eddie, and no one else, but I have functioning eyes. Just like you.” The blonde’s eyebrows raise almost reaching his hairline, at the knowing look his fiancée’s throw at him.

A chuckle rumbled into Hamid’s chest, and Elizabeth playfully shoves more popcorn into his mouth before he can say anything, and the others’ hushed conversation soon die down replaced by remarks about the series’ plot.

“Can you imagine how cool it would be going back in time like Claire?” Briar asks excitedly.

“Not cool at all,” Elizabeth replies. “Why would I go back to a time when there was no potable water or basic sanitation? People did not know about germs.”

“People smelled,” Edmund adds.

“Don't forget the rotten teeth,” Hamid points at his white smile before retrieving a spoonful of brigadeiro.

“No heating.”

“No antibiotics or vaccines.”

“Gosh! You guys are no fun!” Briar raises her hands in the air with exasperation. “How can you not see how amazing this experience can be? She can prevent horrible things from happening!”

Without missing a beat, Edmund states, “Two words: butterfly effect.”

“I need more elaboration on that, Eddie…”

“It’s a theory. Changing one event in the past, even a small one, can impact the future and even erase people’s existence. And it doesn't necessary mean whatever she is doing will make the future better.”

“And sometimes an isolated fact seems bad on its own,” Hamid pondered, “but it actually is part of a greater picture and contributes to other events and the overall consequences are positive.”

“True. Without World War II there wouldn’t be the United Nations nor lots of treaties on Human Rights,” Elizabeth adds, “I remember a passage from one of Hannah Arendt’s books when she was analysing the –” Elizabeth stops talking, acknowledging Hamid’s grin and the adoration in his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I love when you talk nerd.”

Hamid kisses the tip of her nose, and she giggles. The faint light concealed the way her cheeks still blush at his attention.

Another episode starts and the group shares impressions about the impacts of Claire in the past.

“Will she make it?” Briar whispers her question to Elizabeth.

“If I tell you that, I’ll spoil the show… for you and everyone else.”

“Alright,” she concedes and looks around. “I can’t believe you guys wouldn’t risk changing anything to make the present better…”

“I have played many games and watched many movies to consider that a good idea,” Edmund states.

“Lizzy mentioned World War II… Picture this: someone goes back in time and prevent Hitler from killing all those people. Imagine the lives that could have been saved! Is it not worth the try? Even if things get a little messy…”

“You mean killing Hitler?”

“There’s plenty of ways to stop him without actually killing him, Eddie…”

“The time traveller could help him become a successful artist. Maybe he would be less frustrated and murderous… Who knows?” Hamid suggests with an amused smile.

“See!” Briar says grinning. “An easy solution. No murder. Totally doable. Just buy the man’s crap paintings and no war.”

“And what about the others?” Elizabeth ponders, “Hitler never acted alone… and there was Mussolini too… and all the others… it was not a one man’s thing.”

“Alright, maybe we need to work some more on this one…” Briar sipped the beer and started over. “But consider this, don’t you think it would be amazing to help at least one person. I bet Lizzy’s great-grandma would be pleased if someone helped her with that Duke thing… With our knowledge we could totally prevent her from getting engaged to that git and it would not blow on our faces!”

Elizabeth gnawed at her thumbnail, pondering. “Maybe time travelling could work in particular situations like that… What you think?” she asked, looking at Hamid, but it was Edmund who spoke up.

“If Lady Clara does not get engaged to the Duke,” Edmund points out, “she would not learn about his schemes. Therefore, she would not prevent the coup he was orchestrating… Which means there is a chance he and his group could overthrow the monarchy in the end… Imagine all the outcomes.”

Hamid agrees. “And perhaps, changing that, Lady Clara and the Prince could marry earlier, and could have other children, affecting the Foredales’ offspring and Liz could not be here now.”

“Oh! I do not like that alternative!”

“Neither do I,” Hamid agrees and kisses her hand.

“Alright. Got it. Not messing with Lizzy’s great-grandma either… But I still think there are things we can change that could make things better and not erase our friends or blow up the entire world,” Briar mused.

“I think we should focus on the present,” Hamid muses, “That’s the only time that actually exists and when we can improve the future…”

“You’re so wise sometimes, meu amor[3]…”

“I know.”

“Baby, can we go to bed?” Edmund says softly, nuzzling against Briar’s neck. “I’m tired and Christmas’s day always starts very early in the morning. Despite us all being adults, lady grandmother still expects us to get together and open presents… And did I mention I’m tired?”

“I hope not too tired,” she teases, and he whispers something unintelligible that makes her laugh.

Switching off the television, the group bid goodnight, and each couple withdraws to their chambers.

After brushing her teeth, Elizabeth changed into her pyjamas, while Hamid was lying in bed, playing a game on his mobile. His eyes followed her, lost in her thoughts, slowly walking back to the room. The contemplative look he was too familiar with.

When she pulled the covers to get into the bed with him, he smiled at her and immediately put the mobile away.

“You don’t have to stop,” she says softly, kissing his cheek.

“I was just killing time until you came...” He tilted his face, capturing her lips for a kiss. “And I’d much rather do this!” When she smiled against his lips, his mouth trailed a path down her neck. His warm breath giving her goosebumps.

“Are you enjoying your first Christmas?”

His response was a hum against her sweet-scented skin.

“I have brought you a present. It’s under the tree.”

“Really?” Her voice raised with surprise, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What is it?”

“You’ll see it in the morning.”

“Please…”

Still peppering kisses on her collarbone, he mouthed, “No.”

“Why did you have to say it? Now I’m curious and won’t stop thinking about it...”

“I’m confident I can provide a better distraction to your mind…” His hands travelled down her body and a soft pleased moan escaped her lips.

“So, I was wondering, do you think there are things we can change about our past that would not impact other people’s lives?”

His head tilted up and his dark eyes met hers. “Your dirty talking is getting weirder…”

She chuckled, and her fingers delved into his soft dark hair.

“Indulge me,” she pleaded, with the puppy eyes he cannot resist.

Hamid pondered for a moment until a playful smile curled the corners of his mouth.

“Our past shameful haircuts.”

“What?”

“Think about it. Fixing horrible hairstyles can’t possibly have lasting results other than improving ones’ own life and confidence... Imagine going back and helping your past self, preventing revolting nicknames that would follow you for years… It would be worthy telling ten-year-old Hamid to not let Hande cut his hair. One Youtube video is not enough to turn a girl with a scissor into an accomplished hairstylist, despite what that girl with the purple hair said.”

“Your ten-year-old self was already too cute and self-confident,” Elizabeth says, caressing his cheek. “That bad hair-cut was essential to help build your character.”

Both laughed at their silliness for a while, until Hamid gave in to his curiosity.

“So, what are you thinking about changing?”

“Why do you think I want to change anything?”

“Because I know you, hayatım[4],” he replies, propping an elbow and looking her straight in the eyes. The green eyes he adores. “Is it a test you want a do over?”

She hits his arm playfully. “My life is more than my studies… you know that.”

“Is it about me?” he teases, “I know you wanted to kiss me that day in my flat…”

She propped on her elbow too and faced him. “I wanted to kiss you many days in your flat, Hamid…”

“Ooh! Miss Foredale, that’s quite a revelation!” he quips, “But not grand enough to avoid my question…”

“Well… If I could, I would have been honest with my father. About my mother’s disease. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I regret not telling…” she says, voice cracking while she blinked away the tears blurring her vision, “If I were given a do over, I’d do that… I would give them the chance. Maybe they could have been happy.”

“Even if it could impact your own future?”

The tips of her fingers traced random shapes up and down Hamid’s shirt, while she organized her thoughts and formulated an answer.

“I guess so… And… I don’t know… Maybe there could be a way to save Harry too…”

The flow of emotions completely blurred her vision, before the tears streamed down her cheek, and she averted her gaze. Immediately, Hamid pulled her flush to his chest, whispering soft comforting words against her hair. Despite her silence, he was aware the holidays prompted her to revisit too many memories, and the conversations earlier were just the last straw...

“I’m sorry. That’s silly. I’m being silly –”

“You are not,” he assures, and she sniffs.

“– I should not be sad over this…”

With her palms, she wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine…” She lied through her teeth, and tries to change the topic of conversation from herself, “Would you change anything? Besides your hair?”

“About my past? Never. All I am, all I did made me who I am and brought me here and to you, so no. I’m absolutely satisfied with my life.”

They went silent for a moment, and Elizabeth nestled on his chest, while Hamid stroked her curly hair.

“Do you think we would have fallen in love if we met under different circumstances, Hamid?”

“If I was to live a thousand lives, I would fall in love with you in each and every single one of them.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. My heart would just know you were out there, and I would travel the entire world to find you.”

“Aww that’s sweet…”

“That’s the truth.”

The light filtering through the curtains invaded the room and her dreams. Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open, and she flinched at the unexpected brightness for a winter’s morning.

A few seconds and realization dawned on her.

“Oh, no! We overslept!” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Grandma will be so angry.”

Sitting on the bed, she was about to call Hamid when her fingers retreated at the touch of the fabric covering her body. Instead of the grey stripped duvet, her hand pushed away a light summer blanket in lavender that wasn’t in her bed last night.

“Hamid, did you –” she interrupter herself when she reached for Hamid but did not find him beside her, which was an odd occurrence considering he rarely woke up before her or his alarm. His mobile was not by the bedside table, and she noticed she was not in the same room. The walls were covered in a pastel pink wallpaper with a delicate floral pattern, and there was no sign of her books over the desk.

Oh, God. Where am I? Do I sleepwalk now?

She got up and stared for a moment at the pink slippers waiting for her feet. A pair she hasn’t seen in years.

Is it a prank?

“Hamid?” she called him, but there was no answer and not a sign of him or his belongings anywhere. At the en-suite bathroom, a single bath towel was hanging and one toothbrush over the sink. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she froze and stared at the reflection. Her curly hair was longer, with golden highlights and her jaw dropped revealing the braces attached to her teeth.

“Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh, my god! This is impossible!”

Running back into the bedroom, she found her mobile with its Yoda case over the side table. Had she not sit on the bed, the device and herself would have hit the ground when she read the date on the screen: July 3rd, 2013.

She googled the date, then the news, confirming the impossible. Her body fell back on the bed and she stared at the ceiling. A million questions running through her mind. Her heartbeat raced, and she rubbed her moist hands against the bedcovers.

Am I fourteen again or have I been dreaming everything else, including Hamid?

Her stomach sunk at this hypothesis. Reaching for the mobile, she googled his name and there were a few magazine articles from 2011 praising the looks and intelligence of the handsome teenager son of the Turkish ambassador at the United States. A sigh of relieve escaped her lungs. At least he is real, but this information does little to help her understand what is happening.

Closing her eyes, she inhales deeply. She pinches herself in the arm again and again. The pain is real, and she does not wake up.

Mobile in hand, she goes through her latest texts and finds the ones exchanged with her mother. A lone tear escapes her eye, and before she remembered the ocean between them, her fingers pressed the picture and the phone dials. It rings a few times before the husky voice speaks in Portuguese:

“Hello?”

“Mamãe[5]?”

“Liz, my dear, is something wrong?” her mother asks, her voice carries more worry than sleep.

“Nothing,” Elizabeth dismisses her concern, her throat tightening at the sound of her voice. Not even the videos feel so real. “I just wanted to tell you I love you. Sorry for waking you up for this –”

“I love you too, sweetie,” her voice was tender. “If you need to talk –”

“I’m fine. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

Her body was shaking when the happy tears stopped streaming down her cheeks. Another deep, calming inhale, and she got up. Even if it is merely a dream, she will not pass the opportunity to speak or see her mother.

Going through the wardrobe, Elizabeth picks one of the several fancy summer dresses her grandmother provided her every year and tied her hair in a single braid.

On her way downstairs, her eyes inspect it all. The house looks the same, yet so different from last night as if she is walking into an old movie or picture.

The sound of voices and the clinking of cutlery attracts her. At the terrace, like they do every summer, the family is gathered for breakfast. Her father, the Earl of Edgewater has his back turned away from her, sitting at the end of the long table filled with delicacies. The man’s hair is darker, less grey streaks pepper his head. Calmly, he spreads butter over a toast while chatting with Lady grandmother, who looks exactly the same, as if not a single day has passed. Henrietta sits across from her, sipping tea. By her side, on his usual chair is Edmund, who still had his cheeks tinted rosier by acne. By his side, hiding his mobile under the table, is Harry.

Elizabeth fails to hold a gasp at the sight of her younger brother.

Without a second thought, she runs and hugs him tightly. Startled, the boy drops the bagel he was taking to his mouth and it hits the ground.

“Eliza,” he squeals. “My bagel!”

“Vincent!” Henrietta roars, “that girl is attacking my son!”

“Sorry about that,” Elizabeth mutters under her breath, but leans again and kisses the boy’s cheek and hugs him more gently. “But I missed you so much!”

“What are you talking about? We played videogames until 2 in the morning…” he grumbles, trying to extricate himself from her embrace.

Finally, she lets him go and every pair of eyes stare at her.

“I – Sorry. I had a bad dream.” She grabs another bagel from the tray and hands it to Harry.

Taking her place at the other side of the table, besides her grandmother, she cannot stop staring at her brother.

“Two days to your birthday. Are you excited, Eliza?” Vincent asks,

“I could not be more excited, dad.”

Noticing the persistent stare, Harry makes a face at Elizabeth.

“Do not forget, after breakfast, we’ll go to Moorfield for the final fitting of your dress,” her grandmother says, and explains every little detail about the schedule for the next days, just like she remembers.

The entire day goes by and she cannot shake off the sense of déja vu. With every passing hour, certainty grows that she is living this same day again. She can predict everything that’ll happen.

Outside the store at Moorfield, the same dalmatian puppy runs loose after he escapes his owner. The man screams for people to get out of the way, and the dog bumps against Elizabeth’s leg on his way down the street until he enters a restaurant, its leash entangles around the legs of the waiter and he stumbles, dropping a tray of food with a loud clatter.

While her grandmother looked horrified at the scene, Elizabeth realized this could be the second chance she dreamed for so long.

Later that same day, as promised, she called her mother and asked about her health, just to be sure. The woman stifled and went silent for a long moment.

“Liz, you promised you would respect my wishes and not tell your father...”

“Don’t you think he should know?”

“I – Darling, it is probably nothing…” she paused, “Cancer is not a death sentence anymore.”

Her words carried her smile, like they so often did, and Elizabeth swallowed hard, knowing how this story ends.

The evening before her birthday, pacing in her room, Elizabeth considered her options. She will tell her father about her mother. Should he know about Harry too? Perhaps she should not tell him that…

At the hallway, she peeked inside the Earl’s study. Her father was working on his computer, and when he saw her at the door, he greeted her with a smile and noticed the worry frown in her face.

“Is something the matter, my dear?”

“Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he replies, and immediately raises to his feet.

Elizabeth closes the door behind her and joins her father at the small sofa.

“I have something important to tell you,” she says, trying to muster the strength to not stutter or abandon this task.

For the next ten minutes, she speaks without interruption. The man’s jaw drops, and his fingers delve into his hair, raking it back repeatedly.

When her mouth stops, it is his time to speak and he asks when Maria died.

“June 10, 2018.”

“Five years.” His hand covers his mouth. His shoulders droop and he leans forward as if suddenly his body gives up at the weight of her words. The man’s eyes return to his daughter’s face, and he asks, seeking a confirmation, “And we never talked about it?”

Elizabeth shook her head, and Vincent rubbed his face.

“Harry was such a skilled skier… so confident…” incredulity filling his tone. “When?”

“2018. The accident was on January 14, and he died two days later…”

“My God…” he sighs, and Elizabeth considers if this was too much to throw at her father.

She reaches for his hand, and gently squeezes it. “It sounds crazy. I sound crazy. Trust me, I know…”

“But how did it happen? How do you -”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I don’t know if I dreamed it all, or if I am dreaming now… I keep expecting to wake up any moment now… But at the same time, if it is happening for a reason, I wanted us to have another chance… I needed to fix this… even if it changes the course of everything else.”

He stared at her for a moment, and her lips rolled inside her mouth.

“You don’t have to believe me, dad.”

“I believe you.”

From that day on, the Foredales’ lives took an unexpected turn.

When Elizabeth went back home to Rio de Janeiro at the end of the month, Vincent accompanied her. At the airport, Maria was surprised to see him. For the first time in years, they talked. Frankly. It wasn’t pretty to watch, and Elizabeth actively tried not to listen to them talking in her mother’s room.

They stayed there for hours, revisiting painful memories and broken promises. However, in the end, they reconciled and decided to give themselves a second chance.

Surprising everyone, the Earl of Edgewater took a licence from Parliament, and convinced Maria to move to London to seek a better treatment plan. The news rekindled the paparazzi’s interest, and they followed the couple and their daughter everywhere. Her disease become known to the public while they visited many doctors.

This time, the Earl stayed by Maria’s side at the hospital and Elizabeth could not hide her happiness while both took turns watching over her mother.

With every passing day, she was certain she did the right thing.

By the end of the year, the Earl and Henrietta were divorced. And during the process, and the scandals that followed, it took a few weeks and a lot of Vincent’s patience for Harry to speak to him again.

Three months later, the Earl married Maria at the chapel at Edgewater in a small private ceremony, that only Elizabeth, Edmund, Harry and Lady Dominique witnessed. Maria had just left the hospital after a surgery, and the long sleeves of her dress covered the IV marks, but nothing – not even the tears rolling down her cheeks – could conceal the joy overflowing her heart.

And Elizabeth knew it was worth it.

“Fuck the butterfly effect,” she muttered under her breath outside the chapel, breaking her rule of not swearing, and lady grandmother chided her for being ill-mannered.

The months went by, and her days had fewer dèja vu. She still talked to her friends at Brazil, and video called them, but she settled on her new routine and slowly made new friends.

During the celebration of Easter in 2014, the Parsons were amongst the families invited to lunch at Edgewater, and Elizabeth and Annabelle finally met.

“Annabelle! It’s so good to see you,” Elizabeth blurted out when Harry introduced them, and their eyes widened at the effusiveness of the usually shy teenager.

“That’s the first time someone gets so excited to meet me,” the other girl laughed, sharing a knowing look with Harry, who rolled his eyes.

“My sister was not properly socialized,” Harry teased, “and she does not know how to interact with people.”

Elizabeth slapped Harry playfully, and addressed Annabelle. “Sorry. But Harry talks so much about you that it just seems like we are already friends…”

“I’m not complaining, Elizabeth.”

They shook hands, sealing the beginning of their good friendship, and the trio was inseparable ever since, despite Harry’s initial disapproval on sharing his friend.

With time, Elizabeth and Annabelle grew even closer.

For the second time, instead of Oxford, Elizabeth chose to stay close to her mother at London and went to King’s College Law school.

Eventually they met Briar – and this time around, Elizabeth had to put an extra effort for this to happen, since her friendship with Annabelle changed a lot of things, including the habits, routines and the circle of friends Annabelle had at uni.

And since the first day, she wondered what would it take for Briar and Edmund to fall in love again.

The years passed and not a day went by without her sparing a thought - or plenty more - about Hamid, wondering where he would be or what he would be doing.

On a notebook concealed in a bottom drawer, she wrote down everything that she remembered about him and could matter someday: tales from his childhood and stories about his scars, the names of his sisters and family members, and more practical details like the probable date when he moved to London, or when he started working with her father, his mobile number and e-mail address. From time to time, she would pick it up, and read it all, afraid she could be forgetting about him.

Sometimes, when missing him was unbearable and her heart ached inside her chest, she would take a look at his Pictagram. The sight of his pictures, specially the ones with his cat Princess Leia – who she missed so much! – often made her smile. And she laughed at the jokes exchanged between him and his sisters, and even got a little jealous of the comments of some of his thousands of followers, thirsting over his physique, even though she had no right to feel that way.

One evening, while watching a movie, she was lost in her thoughts, and picked her mobile to text her mother, but ended up looking at Hamid’s profile again.

Annabelle and Briar shared a knowing look.

“Are you daydreaming about that mysterious mate again, Lizzy?”

“Excuse me?” Elizabeth was startled by the question, and when she met Briar’s stare, she tried to hide her mobile. However, the other gently pulled her wrist to take a better look at the screen.

“Hmmm… Shirtless. Sexy. I like what he has done with his hair, by the way. Why are you not liking his pictures? You definitely should!”

“No!” Elizabeth pulled the mobile away from her.

“Why not?”

“Reasons.”

“Are you ever telling who is he?” Annabelle asked from her seat where she was painting her nails.

Elizabeth sighed, and looked away before she replied. Despite hating lies, there were some truths that were not easy to handle.

“He is just… someone I knew.”

“Really? When did you meet him?” Annabelle asked surprised. “He seems a little... old.”

“Long ago. It seems like another life now...”

“When are you asking him out?”

“I’m not.”

“So, you’ll keep stalking this mysterious guy online while not dating anyone else?”

“I’m not stalking him…”

“Right…”

“And I don’t have time to date right now. Uni is already too much. And I’ll start my internship with Sinclaire soon… Too much…”

“Lots of people do both,” Annabelle said, and raised her hands in the air when Elizabeth glared at her. “I’m just saying.”

At last, August, 2016 arrived.

By her counts, by the end of the week, Hamid would already have moved to London and started working at the embassy. Just a few blocks away from the house, and she knows by heart all of his favourite places.

Anxiety chastised her nails, which were bitten to its last piece, and she started gnawing at her cuticles and only the metallic taste on her mouth made her stop.

“Sweetie,” Maria called her softly one morning, and took her hands in hers and inspected them. The concerned look she spared at her nails were less about the aesthetic or the wounded cuticles, and more about what prompted that behaviour. She knows her daughter too well to realize when something is going on. “I worry about you, Liz. You have not been eating properly and you seem so absentminded… Do you wish to talk?”

“I’m alright,” she replies, forcing a smile. Maria’s knitted brow indicated she did not believe her words. “Really, I’m just tired…”

“I’m not dying. Not right now.”

“I know,” Elizabeth smiled, and this time she meant it.

“I will not force you to speak, you know that… But if you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’m leaving now. I’ll cycle at the park.”

“Good. Fresh air will do you good.”

Her mother kissed her on the cheek and Elizabeth felt her chest tightening.

Anytime her heart wishes the sands of time would trickle faster, rushing Hamid’s arrival, it means her mother’s time would be running out faster too.

One cannot have it all.

That morning, she cycled until the Turkish embassy’s street, and stared at the building from the corner, wondering if Hamid was there.

Almost every day she would walk by that building or by one of Hamid’s favourite places. Some days she would grab a coffee and a sweet and sit by the window at the place he first took her after they met; other times she would ask the drive to circle past the street of his flat, even though he only moved in about six months after he was at London. Illogical as it was, she asked him to do so anyways. Her eyes stared at the windows, as she remembered watching movies together, talking, laughing, eating the dinners he prepared and all they did. Her heart raced at the thought of the first I love you he professed, and she blushed at the reminiscences of their first time.

Weeks went by and there was no sign of him at London.

The tabloids barely posted anything about him lately, which was really odd considering how many articles about him there used to be, focusing on his many adventures and famous affairs with all those gorgeous women.

October, 2016

By the end of October, Elizabeth was done with waiting and wondering.

For weeks, whenever possible, she would bring Turkey or any related subject to the conversations at the house, hoping her father would eventually speak about Hamid to no avail.

Therefore, mustering all her courage, she decided on a more direct approach. Halfway to the Earl’s study, she questioned her decision.

Peeking inside, she saw her father sitting behind the imposing mahogany desk, where several piles of papers were sitting, while he typed on the computer’s keyboard.

What am I even telling him?

Growling, she pulled her knuckles away from the door before knocking and gnawed on a cuticle.

If I wait even another minute, I’ll have no more nails left. Or sanity… Sure, this can never be weirder than our previous conversation… I can be smooth…

While Elizabeth debated whether she should go inside or not, Vincent caught a glimpse of his daughter pacing in front of the door, biting on a nail.

“Eliza,” he called, “do you wish to speak to me?”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and peeked inside. A polite smile on her lips that did not reach her eyes.

“I was curious about your work,” she said, wriggling her hands, “but if you are too busy…”

“I’m never too busy for my children. Take a seat.” He pointed at one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “There was a time you would need no invitation and just come running inside and sit on my lap.” Her father’s face brightened with the memory, and her laughter joined his.

“I must warn you, nevertheless, that it is still as boring as it used to be when you were five.”

“Eighteen-year-olds don’t share the same interests of five-year-olds…” she quipped, “There’s hope I might not sleep now.”

“That would be an improvement.”

For the next minutes, Vincent summarized the bill about medical care he was working to present at Parliament on a week’s time. Despite being proud of her father’s engagement in that subject – the knowledge and experiences acquired these past three years while accompanying Maria’s treatment certainly contributed to that dedication, she was certain –, however none of this would involve Hamid, who only ever worked with her father on commercial treaties between the United Kingdom and Turkey.

“… then Maria suggested a fundraiser to raise awareness and mother is working with her. Their many suggestions include a silent auction; but I’m still considering the options.”

“That is interesting.”

“Is it?” he remarked, noticing how her attention kept shifting to the leather covered appointment book over the desk. “What is really on your mind, my dear? You seem distracted lately…”

“It’s just… I’ve read about the issue with the immigrants and refugees, and I know Parliament will be discussing it soon…”

“That subject truly concerns me as well.”

“Do you have anything scheduled about it?”

“I have a meeting with the Prime-Minister and another one with the Italian diplomats next week.”

“Isn’t there a meeting maybe with another group of diplomats? Perhaps from Turkey?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

The disappointment on her face was unmistakable.

“Let me check if Arthur updated my schedule.” He clicked a few times, eyes scanning the screen, until he finally confirmed there was nothing scheduled with any group of Turkish diplomats, and his daughter thanked him and flashed a polite tight-lipped smile.

The man took off his glasses and placed them on the desk, while her hands occupied themselves with scattered notes that were neatly arranged in piles.

“I have not failed to notice you took a recent interest on Turkey…” he says, voice soft and an open smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “There were the trips to Istanbul with Annabelle. Also, the questions about foreign politics recently… Is there a special reason?”

She shook her head in reply, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“Not long ago, you would not hesitate on sharing your concerns with me... What is troubling you, my dear?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Every time you say nothing and that you are fine, it means the opposite.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and she stirred uncomfortably in the chair before looking back at him. “…It involves a guy.”

“Oh, are you going to tell me you are dating?” His words were accompanied by an even warmer smile, clearly amused with her coyness.

“It is about someone I knew. From before.”

“I see.”

“And you knew him too. He was a diplomat. From Turkey. By this time, you would be working together on a treaty…” she replies, fidgeting with the notes she was now rearranging. “But so many things changed… I think… that maybe, this changed too… We actually met in 2018… after mamãe and…”

Reaching for her hand, he asks softly, “You love him?”

“I do,” she admits. “Well, I did. But I fear I’m in love with the idea of a person that no longer exists… Sometimes it seems I will only be able to truly breathe again when we meet…”

“Once you asked me about your mother, and told me that if I still loved her, I should act upon my feelings. Be fearless, because doubts and regrets are not the best companions in life, you said. Perhaps, this could be your turn to take your own advice.”

“But that’s different… What do I even do? We haven’t met!”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t really know… Istanbul, I think.”

“Reach out to him.”

“What would I tell him?” she sighed and her father squeezed her hand gently and smiled.

“How about hello?”

Elizabeth chuckled, then got up and circled the table.

“I’ll let you go back to work,” she says and kisses her father’s cheek. “Thanks for listening to me. And have a good night, dad.”

“You too, Eliza.”

Returning to her chambers after that conversation, Elizabeth sat at the desk and stared at her mobile. Fingers hovered over the screen, and her mind elaborated many excuses to text an unknown man. From complimenting his cat to a cute remark about one of Istanbul’s famous landmarks.

Fifteen minutes later, however, worries smothered hope and she put it away and went to bed.

Maybe tomorrow.

For the next two days, she would check Hamid’s social media frequently, hoping for news. But there were none. The last picture posted dated from five days ago and was tagged at a restaurant at Istanbul.

One morning, despite her better judgement she liked that last picture with her official and very public profile, and tried not to think about it for the next hours. A mere heart in a photo could not disturb the balance of the universe that much.

When classes were over for the day, she fished the mobile inside her bag and checked the notifications. Amongst unread texts from her mother, Annabelle and Harry, and some missed calls, one particular notification called her attention and her hand covered a gasp. In one of her last pictures, a like from Hamid. A tiny heart that caused her very real one to beat at a similar cadence of the percussionists of a samba school.

After the initial joy, doubt crawled its way and took over.

Was it intentional? Maybe he accidentally hit the button. Or was just being polite.

Just in case, she liked another one of his pictures and waited.

An hour later, a ping and another notification from him. Hamid liked another one of her pictures. Then another when she was still holding the mobile. Her finger hovered over the follow button, then she pressed it. Hamid accepted it and liked yet another picture. This time, it was a picture from her family posted long ago.

Unable to find the necessary courage, she did not message him; however, she liked two of his old photos: one of Princess Leia, and another from his family celebrating Eid.

The mobile was lying on the desk, when it vibrated with a new notification. Something new on Hamid’s stories, and she clicked on it.

I’m definitely a stalker now...

The video showed Hamid singing the chorus of Your song, one of her favourite songs of all times, and then he changed to Girl from Ipanema, which he sang during their first outing after she told him where she lived. Dumbfolded, she watched the video twice.

That’s too much of a coincidence. Maybe I should DM him…

Clicking on his picture, she started typing.

After a lot of erasing she sent her messages and quickly regretted it, watching the app indicate he was already typing.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Almost the exact same dialogue they had before. Her hands were shaking so much she had to place the mobile down. Her fingers went to her hair and she pulled it back. There was no need to retrieve the notebook; his number never slipped her mind like so many other things, like the equation to calculate the gravitational force had.

Clicking on the small camera to video call him, it rang only once before his face was occupying the entire screen. Her breath hitched at the familiar smiling face looking directly at her. The same cheek-dimpling smile that brightened her days.

“Hamid,” she breathed his name.

“Can you please say that again?”

“Are you not listening to me?”

“You don’t know how I’ve longed to hear you call my name again,” he says softly, and his smile grows impossibly wider.

“You truly remember me?” He nodded, and she took a deep breath and fought the tears pricking her eyes. “Then why didn’t you look for me?”

“I did, but I wasn’t sure you remembered me… And until not long ago, I think it was probably illegal to do so… And butterfly effect.”

There’s a lot of undistinguished noises around him, and a robotic voice speaks in Turkish.

“Where are you?”

“Airport.”

“Where are you going?”

“To meet you.” His face disappeared when he turned the mobile away to film his surroundings and the carrying case resting in the seat beside him, where an angry cat hissed at the camera. “Leia and I are on our way.”

“I cannot believe! How did you –” the words toppled, and she interrupted herself.

“You reached out and I was sure it was the sign I was waiting for. So… here I am. You know I’ll just jump at any opportunity to travel.”

“I missed you,” she sighs.

“And I you.”

“There’s so much to tell, so many questions…”

“In about five hours we’ll see each other, but I must confess that talking will not be the priority of my tongue…” he winked at the camera, and she blushed, as she always did.

“You haven’t changed.”

“How would you recognize me if I did?”

They both chuckled and a comfort silence settled between them, as if they have not spoken to each other in years. They simply stared at the screen, and there were tears clouding their eyes.

Hamid’s face tilted with a new announcement at the speaker.

“That’s my flight they’re calling.”

He raised from the seat, balancing the backpack, carrier and the mobile.

“Have a safe trip, Hamid.”

“Thank you, hayatım,” he says softly. “Get some rest, I’ll call you when I arrive at the hotel.”

“Come to my father’s house.”

“Is it a good idea?”

“I told him about you. And I want you to meet my mother.”

“Alright.”

“Hamid!”

“Yes?”

“I love you!”

He took a deep breath, his grin almost reaching his ears, and the words flowed from his tongue as melodic as music, “Seni çok seviyorum. I love you. Eu te amo. Je t’aime – I don’t think I have the time to say that in all the ways that I’ve planned, but I will when we meet.”

The screen darkens, and she lies in bed, letting the mobile fall right next to her.

No more weight in her chest, and she can breathe – she can finally breathe and relief washes over her.

Hamid is fine.

Hamid is coming.

Hamid loves her.

Before she can fight it, slumber claimed her vision and her mind.

When her eyes flutter open, the room is completely dark, and she cannot find the mobile. Stirring under the covers, she stretches her arm to continue the search until her elbow connects with something hard.

“Ouch!”

Following the painful moan, a husky sleepy voice asks, “Did you hit my nose?”

“Hamid?”

Turning around, she hits the light switch and finally can see his face. The man blinks to adjust his vision to the brightness, and Elizabeth throws herself at him. Her hands cup his face, and his eyes widened at the sight of her.

“Oh, my God! You are really here!”

The man pulls her closer with a similar sigh of relief and kisses her with so much passion that she gasps for air when they part.

“You cannot imagine the dream I had” she sighs.

“It can’t be as weird as mine…”

“Wanna bet?” she teases. “I was fourteen again. Braces and all. And mamãe and Harry were alive… And I remembered everything of my life, which was so odd, because no one else did… And all those years I didn’t know if I was dreaming and was gonna wake up or if this life was the dream… And I missed you so much and – What?”

His face scrunched, as his fingers scratched the growing stubble on his jaw.

“Is it a couples’ thing? To have similar dreams?”

“Why you ask?”

“I dreamed I woke up at my parents’ home at Istanbul six years ago and I thought I was loosing my mind… Then, I got to read about you at the tabloids, without knowing if you remembered me, which you did, but I didn’t know then… And for years I was just wondering if I would ever have the chance to meet you again… or if I had to move on with my life… And it pained me… Specially when I saw you too soon at Istanbul. I couldn’t risk saying hello, because what if I talked to you and like the butterfly causing a typhoon I just messed everything –”

“You saw me?”

“With Annabelle.”

Her jaw dropped and she couldn’t articulate words while her mouth moved.

“It was a dream, wasn’t it?”

“I guess,” he sighed and kissed her again. “What other explanation could there be?”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and a masculine voice she was not expecting to hear startled her.

“You missed breakfast, love birds! If you don’t hurry, we’ll start opening the presents without you!”

The couple looked at each other and without changing from their pajamas, they held hands and went downstairs. They did not find the owner’s voice on their way to the drawing room, where Elizabeth and Hamid were welcomed by laughter and a soft melody.

Briar and Edmund greeted the couple, and their attention returned to the gifts they were exchanging.

Standing in the center of the room holding a box with a large red bow, Lady grandmother acknowledged their presence with a glare. “I thought you would not join us,” she says without holding back the censure in her tone.

Not missing a beat, the Earl says with a smile, that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “It is Christmas morning, mother.”

“And they are here now.”

Elizabeth’s eyes search the familiar voice, finding Maria behind her father. The woman is sitting on the couch, a blanket covers her legs, but nothing can hide the joy brightening her features. Vincent hands Harry a box, then sits beside her and holds her hand. Both smile at Harry, who is focused on the wrapping paper he was tearing apart.

Elizabeth freezes in place, tears blurring her vision.

Without a second thought, letting go of Hamid’s hand, she presses forward and kneels in front of her mother.

The troubled expression intrigues the woman, who whispers in Portuguese, “Are you alright, dear?”

Without uttering a word, Elizabeth hugs her, and the woman repeats the question.

“I had a dream... maybe I’m still dreaming… I... Sorry. Are you alright, mamãe?”

“I couldn’t be happier,” Maria replies, her famous open smile curling her lips. “Was it a good dream?”

Elizabeth meets her gaze, and lets her hand gently wipe the tear that streamed down her cheek.

“Excellent.”

“Hamid, don’t you just stand over there,” Vincent calls. “Come join us.”

“Yes, please. I have a present for you too, querido[6],” Maria says and asks Elizabeth to retrieve one of the boxes from under the tree.

Hamid shared a look with Elizabeth, whose expression mixed too many emotions, and did as they told him. As he approached the trio, his mouth curved into a smile that confusion prevented from reaching his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Hamid.” Maria handed the box to the diplomat, who thanked her politely for the token. An elegant watch. “I hope it pleases you, and remind you of the things that matter.”

“I love it. Thank you very much, my lady. However, I don’t think I have bought a gift for you,” he says, sharing a questioning look at Elizabeth who shruggs. "I’m terribly sorry.”

Taking his and Elizabeth’s hands, Maria whispers, “I have everything I could ever want.”

Her words earn a smile from Vincent, and Elizabeth could not agree more. At last, they have everything that matters.

===============

Notes:

[1] Rabanada – Portuguese word – Sweet traditionally served in Brazil during the holidays, and consists of bread that, after being soaked in milk, wine or sugar syrup, is passed through eggs is fried or baked in oven, and is served sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar.

[2] Brigadeiro – Portuguese word – a Brazilian dessert made of chocolate.

[3] Meu amor – Portuguese – It’s a term of endearment and means ‘my love’.

[4] Hayatım – Turkish – a term of endearment that means ‘my life’.

[5] Mamãe - Portuguese – term of endearment that means ‘mother, mum, mummy.’

[6] Querido – Portuguese – a term of endearment that means ‘dear’.

#cfwc nerd week #desire and decorum au #prince hamid #briar daly #annabelle parsons #edmund marlcaster #earl vincent #dowager countess #prince hamid x oc #oc: elizabeth foredale #choices fanfic #minor character death

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