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Glorious Horrors [ Vinaein & Andro ]

"Yes, ma'am, he's taking his morning tea below in the parlour." Evelyn's explanation came with another skirting of her gaze across the room like she was trying not to look at Amelia. Or she had seen something?

Whatever the matter was didn't linger long in the back of Lady Adler's mind because of the sudden realization that she felt cold. Amelia pulled herself out of bed and went ot the wing back chair near Evelyn at the heart. There she grabbed the plaid wrap she donned the previous night before dinner to help keep some of the chill of Ravenhallow at bay, wrapping it around her shoulders as before. Even in the brightness of the morning she still felt its icy fingers wrapping around her limbs and seeping into her core as if there was a draft following her throughout the place. A quick inspection of the window proved it was latched, and the thick velvet curtains over top coupled with the newly stoked fireplace meant she would have to warm up a bit before descending.

"Goodness, it's not even winter yet," observed Amelia. She looked around the room and then ran her hands over her covered upper arms. Evelyn merely nodded in agreement without much to say on the matter. "Shall I escort you down to tea now, Lady Adler?"

"Please." Amelia nodded and was summarily brought out. The chill lifted soon after they went through the hall but she thought it was so strange considering she slept quite comfortably. At the bottom of the stairs she nodded to Evelyn to be dismissed back to whatever other duties she needed to tend to, while Amelia pulled the wrap taut around her again and took in a slow, deep breath. Across the hall the doorway of the open parlour revealed Lucian inside with an array of breakfast food prepared including a fresh pot of tea.

She walked over to him with confident yet graceful strides. The chemise dress she wore was thick and formal enough to not be mistaken for lingerie, thankfully, though it was a bit on the lighter side. Not that she suspected the younger Lord Talbot would be questioning her choice of dress, anyway.

"Good morning," chirped Amelia. A bright smile widened her mouth as she entered across from Lucian and gestured to a chair nearby. "May I join you before our outing?" asked his guest. She then paused and looked back over her shoulder into the hallway in such a way as one would when there were approaching footsteps. It was void of any visible presence. Though, the involuntary gaze reminded her of something else.

"Will Lady Talbot be joining us as well?" Amelia asked, now a bit keen on the idea. Though Laura's reception had been nothing short of chilly yesterday, she understood it due to the abruptness and apparent joke at their expense in that vague letter. Now at least she hoped the heir's sister had warmed up to her a little. "I had hoped she would come with us to enjoy a pleasant outing. Your mention of the holiday last night made me think of roasted chestnuts. I ought to buy some if there is a vendor in Moonwell. And of course, I would be remiss if I left empty handed of a gift for my generous hosts as well."
 
With the servants milling about, it was hard to deny that everyone seemed just a touch more comfortable by the light of day. Murmurs were abound as maids and others went about their work, some in the gardens, though no further howls drifted along the grounds, nor the moors from the distance. Everything seemed cleaned enough, though all around sought to busy themselves.

While Lucian was sat in his seat, positioning himself to catch a ray of sunshine as if basking in it like a hound having discovered a particularly warm spot. He soaked in the risen sun as if it was a comforting cloak to wrap about himself, a far cry from Laura who seemed to prefer the curtains shut and a comfortable spot to rest herself...

"And a fine night, my dear brother."

"Was it, sister? Was it truly?" Lucian lifted an eyebrow, seeing the curl to Laura's mouth.

"An exciting one, to be sure," she said primly. "After all, Uncle arrives and the good Miss Adler...some time with her, hm?"

"We did indeed spend some time, Laura. I tust that meets with your approval? Did you have a good evening?"

"I had a fine enough one. And spend as much time as you like with her. It matters little to me, sweet brother. If you will pardon me, I shall go see to the grounds." She rose and dipped her head, departing...just moments before Amelia's arrival.

Lucian sat up upon seeing her entirely too cheerful in the morning. But it made him smile, her exuberance an infectious and contagious thing. "Ah, please, please! There's far too much for me to eat, so I confess to say I require your assistance!" He said with a delighted gesture. "Laura is...seeing to other events. It is nearly Christmas, after all, and we do hold that important for the old festivals...as for chestnuts, I daresay we might find a few to roast there..." He waved a hand at the notion of compensation.

"Hardly necessary," he said delicately. "though we appreciate your generosity,...did you sleep well? No untoward dreams? Nightmares are sadly a common thing for visitors, as Uncle Sebastian has noted..."

All too common indeed, though no ghosts or specters lingered about by the morning light. It was as if the moonlight could be a shield against them for now, thought the young lord while he sipped his tea again. "The hounds have quieted as well...I've also had our coachman, Gerard, prepare the carriage for the trip into the town."
 
Amelia missed Laura's departure in its entirety. By the time she was with Lucian her mind was set on the thoughts of going to Moonwell that day in the sunlight, or what of it pierced the usually dim grey sky. With a broad smile on her face borne of refreshed sleep the young woman toured around the chair in the parlour in order to sit more comfortably. Perhaps that kind of bold smile wasn't common most mornings - and indeed she often had a far more relaxed, muted wake at her own London home - but there was something about being at Ravenhallow for a night which made her feel at home.

"Ah," Amelia said while reaching for a piece of toast that she aimed to butter and spread some jam upon, "I'm sorry to hear Laura has other engagements but... at least we will be going to Moonwell to enjoy the sights. And please, Lord Talbot, think nothing of the gift. I would feel truly atrocious if I didn't amend for coming unprompted. Even if the letter was truly written--" She paused, thinking better of mentioning his late father. Instead she cleared her throat and filled the space where those words had been with a mouthful of crunchy toast.

After swallowing the bite she nodded amicably at her host. Amelia's hair was quickly coming loose from the ribbon used to tie it back in the night, per her slightly more formal dress for dinner. Reams of the dark chestnut brown strolled down her right shoulder in loose soft waves and curled there in her collarbone, not yet making the final plunge.

"I slept quite well. The strangest dream came to me, actually." Amelia took a moment to flick her eyes upward and to the side like she was trying to recall the details. The corner of her pink mouth turned upward into a smirk. "It was something I hadn't thought of in a long time."

Someone, more like.

Back to the topic of Moonwell, Amelia hurriedly finished the small piece of toast she devoured before moving on to pour some tea to wash it down with. "I have a dress laid out in my room which I can hasten into shortly. And, about last night's comment: I do hope you are not hesitant to go to the town? You mentioned the people perhaps being unfavourable. I would hate to put you in discomfort for my sake."
 
Lucian lifted his teacup and sipped the remainder free. He could tell that Laura had enjoyed her time in Ravenhallow for the night. But then, the old house had a way of seeming inviting, open to embrace newcomers and beckoning them inside to rest with open arms. The house, the grounds, all with the animating will of their own, seemed to welcome fresh, new blood to reside within sometimes...after all, the lines needed to continue every so often. Lucian had been pleased, for at least, the moon was not at its fullest outside yet.

But his dapper smile was back in place for the morning, his pale skin with a trace more color, a vitality returned to him...just as the lovely sister of his seemed paler than ever, as if one sibling's health waxed as the other waned...though it was nothing Amelia had yet seen. Nor was Sebastian Rook visible that morning, with no sign of his coming or going to be glimpsed in the pale hours of the morning.

Around the table, as Amelia walked past to retrieve her meal, sat a legion of ghosts, as if lost in silent memory to sit at a banquet. They stared with hollow eyes at the food and drink they could not enjoy, some with the crusted stains of wounds still hanging upon their flesh, some with the pale and withered looks of the diseased or the drowned, all with the rapacious thirst of the dead for the pleasures now beyond them.

They sat there, silent, with hands at their sides, gazing at the newcomers, wanting and wanting all through it while Lucian did his best to focus. They were harder to see in the light of dawn, this throng of specters, a silent and melancholy choir. Lucian rose to his feet, staring close at Amelia "Ah, a dream? I do so love dreams. Reality is ever so...inflexible. Things are what they are. But dreams...there's no limit to them, is there? Why don't you tell me about it on the way to Moonwell?" He asked, eager to send them out to the town. "I assure you, it will be no trouble. I should like to show you the place...and besides, we can pick up some supplies, money is no issue for such a distinguished guest as yourself..."

He did not mention his own dreams had been far more troubled, dreams of the moon and of the woods, of another gathering that beckoned him to join them within the shades of the trees...

And Laura? He doubted Laura had dreamt at all. Nor Uncle Sebastian. Dreams were luxuries denied them.

You had to sleep to dream, after all.
 
Breakfast was kept short but pleasant. Amelia practically wolfed down the scone with jam and her hot tea in accompaniment. Then the young woman hurriedly made a polite exeunt from the brief chat with Lord Talbot so she could hurriedly go and change into something more suitable for an outing to Moonwell. For those moments as she cantered up the steps with a lively spring to her lavish bedroom Amelia briefly forgot all about the exceedingly strange circumstances under which she found herself at Ravenhallow. Or the way Uncle Sebastian's dark eyes pierced right through her, not unlike the same deep knowing look Laura had given her several times since their abrupt meeting at the door.

A little while later saw the Lady Adler rounding the steps with her lace clad hand curling on the capped polished wood rail. Her dark brown walking shoes which looked considerably less rich than her burgundy petticoat and shawl were masked beneath the volume of her skirts. A low boat neckline smoothed across Amelia's chest and each side ended up in a little ruffle of material gathered at her shoulders where long form fitting sleeves issued from. It wasn't light silk or linen but hardier material for the autumn months, lending a bit of texture to the garment. She did request the maid Evelyn's assistance in doing her hair up since a few pins were required to secure the low bun. But otherwise it was a wholly simple outfit.

Once Lucian was ready as well, she happily departed outside with him to the stables. Just as promised, his coachman Gerard had a trussed up cart with two sturdy, beautiful horses to draw it. The pair could easily slip into the cabin and enjoy the scenery outside of their windows on the way to Moonwell... but Amelia had other plans to keep herself engaged during the short trip. Next time, she might even request they go by horseback on their own. It made her so nostalgic for the summer house years ago.

In fact, she'd been thinking of the old estate since last night with a rather keen memory for the finer details she previously thought lost in time.

"We were discussing dreams, weren't we?" Amelia spoke up. Clearly she'd been looking forward to resuming her conversation with Lucian. Over scones and tea would've been delightful but this was a good compromise.

"Rather funny that you mentioned nightmares. For the longest time I haven't had proper dreams." Life had been a quiet whirlwind more deeply stressful and wounding than she cared to admit, but brushed it aside for social niceties. "Last night I recalled the song my mother used to hum for me when I was young. It was so crisp. Like she was with me." Despite the content of her dream (what Amelia thought it was) she didn't show any pain at the mention of her mother. Instead she seemed more revived.

"If I am to dream so vividly, I'm glad that is what I was treated to." A lopsided smirk tugged the corners of her mouth while Amelia's lace gloved fingers touched a pleat in her skirt.

"How long has it been since you last visited Moonwell, Lord Talbot?" she inquired. Amelia looked up at him with exuberant eyes.
 
With the meal finished, Lucian was preparing for the semi-welcome sojourn into Moonwell. The young lord of Ravenhallow was dressed in a simple outfit, certainly nothing befitting the glorious lord of the local manors. He was almost dressed like a townsman himself, neat and immaculate. He was freshly shaven, his hair combed...Laura seemed to be keeping herself, while Lucian awaited the return of Amelia. This was a far cry from the languid, antisocial man of the previous days, the servants of Ravenhallow had noted. Lucian was animated, more alive than they had seen him in some time.

And then arrived the Lady Adler. Lucian all but bowed delicately, gracious with the beaming smile bright upon his face to see her in such a glorious outfit....he'd privately noted, and vocalized, that she looked quite lovely by the new light of day. In fact, Lucian seemed to appreciate the light of day as much as Laura shunned it. A tiny cylinder of light danced through the window, the ghost of a young girl passing by, reaching as if she were trying to feel it, capture and contain it.

With the coach waiting, Lucian helped Amelia within. To feel him would have been to feel a tight muscle underneath his arms, not the softness of a spoiled lordling, but a man used to labor. His body was tight, with corded muscle under the skin, his movements graceful as he helped himself into the coach to sit across from her. "Ah, yes indeed we were!" He said with the exuberance expected as Gerard bade the horses forth to leave the house and its shades behind.

And in the window, Lucian bore a glimpse of Laura, watching them go...a shade of her own, milk-pale as she brushed aside a curtain to stare with unblinking, sorrowful eyes down below, looking for all the world a shade that had awoken one day to leave its body behind in the bed.

Staring with longing as they rode off from Ravenhallow, an imperceptible expression upon her face...

And Lucian turned back to Amelia. "No proper dreams?" He asked curiously. "Well, Ravenhallow does have a way of inspiring dreams anew..." he said as he smiled back. "All who pass through have dreams of their own. Or find their old dreams reawakened..." He turned to Moonwell's direction.

"Seven months I should say. That I can remember," he added....the town was coming into view before long, a quaint place that had seemingly eluded the grasp of modernization, with squat, strong buildings. It was larger than might be expected, pastoral with farms, and many shops, the people already at work...

And hushed as they saw the arrival of Lord Talbot. "Shall we?" Lucian asked.
 
Reawakened indeed. Amelia didn't recall the last time she remembered her mother's face quite so clearly or even thought about the memories of their summer estate so many years ago. It was a bit startling and yet brought her comfort when in the night it felt like her mother was there at the edge of her bed humming an old tune that lulled her to sleep when she was once a restless young girl who was afraid of the dark. Miss Talbot missed those times now when her biggest worry was having a far too large imagination for a small child.

Soon the town of Moonwell came into view: it offered a quaint selection of old stone buildings with some thatched construction Chateau-style of several hundred years past. Indeed, Lucian hadn't been stretching the truth when he mentioned in passing the age of Moonwell in relation to the founding of Ravenhallow's original manse. Amelia's mind was already churning with wonder as she envisioned just what the bustling town might have looked like ages ago, generations past. Her lace gloved hand pressed to the cool glass window in the carriage and beats of warm vapour from her breath hit the shielding layer in rhythmic slow waves. But the brightness of her widened eyes showed her excitement easily enough.

"It's lovely," murmured Amelia, who longed for such a place. It even made her briefly forget the unease about Lord Talbot's arrival there.

Outside she could hear vendors peddling what they had to sell from fresh butchered meat to produce to a few reams of modest quality textiles and trinkets. Just like the small alleys of London where one might get lost in its enchantments, if not for the ghastly grey haze of the machine shops turning the once pleasant view of her youth into a sooty mess with a chorus of coughing fits.

But much of the din quieted when their marked carriage came past. To the denizens of Moonwell it was like a glossy lacquered hearse. Their idle chatter and calls died down as those the carriage passed dropped their faces in unreadable or uncertain expressions until the horses were well out of sight. Gerald 'woahed' the horses to stop with a practised expertise that caused only the most mild jerk within the carriage. At Luc's query, Amelia nodded earnestly and went out with him, taking care to use his hand to help herself down off the step leading to the cobble streets below.

From her pocket in her thick layered petticoat, Amelia withdrew a sleek, small letter. "I penned a message to my father that I'd like to post today. The sooner he can prepare for my return the better." Amelia let the words hang in the air for only a moment since she recalled expressing a desire to stay for a week or two regardless and her hosts happily obliged. "Not until you've tired of me, of course." A smile was offered up now to appease any disquiet her mention of departure may have caused. Though she took Lucian to be such an easygoing fellow - as well as hospitable and generous - that she doubted her brief waylay at Ravenhallow would be anything but pleasant and not an imposition.

She extended her arm elbow out towards him. "Would you care to show me the way? I'm sure there is plenty to catch our attention along the way. Small towns such as this have quite the ensnaring charm."

A man across the street stopped to stare at them, or rather glare at Lucian. He jutted his chin slightly and tugged at the lapel of his tail coat which looked a bit softened in the elbows and shoulders from excessive wear, and his threadbare red ascot confirmed as much. And he wasn't the only one who looked either concerned or unhappy with Lord Talbot's arrival...
 
Sitting at Amelia's side, Lucian was briefly lost in memory. In truth, he did not go into town often and certainly not so much anymore. The woods were dangerous enough, but modernization had not come easily or smoothly to the town of Moonwell. It was a superstitious place, with the misty moors and dark caves nearby. The people rarely had much to say when it came to Ravenhallow and the Talbot family. Lucian was used to that, well aware of the feelings that lingered from long ago. After all, not more than a few of the ghosts in Ravenhallow had their origins in Moonwell itself.

Still, seated beside Amelia, he was pleased despite himself. It was an admittedly strange sensation. Who knew how long it had been since he felt so simple a feeling as happiness and contentment? Especially with all that had happened recently. With the tales from Moonwell, with what had been found upon the-

"It's lovely," came Amelia's voice as Lucian's gaze centered upon her, while the mists wrapped about them as if hurrying them along into the embrace of the mysterious little town. The old mill was in the distance, working there, along with the farmers on the outskirts. But seeing it through Amelia's eyes...it was new. It was fresh. It was joyous, even. And Moonwell was a happy place. The town was perhaps not so small, with many people knowing one another there.

"If you're used to the city so much, I can see how this might be a change," Lucian said. "Laura's rather fond of it." Even if it wasn't fond of her. There came the wafting aromas from the bakeries and even that of cooking meat. Milling grain was turned into crops or ale to be taken by the innkeepers or tavern owners...

And behind them were the woods. The trees arched up like towers, the woods a living and tangible thing that swayed in time with the mighty breeze. Inviting, yet foreboding all at once.

With Amelia's words, Lucian turned to her with a smile. "Ah," he said with an acquiescing nod. "The post is that way, I would be more than pleased to send the letter. After all, the sooner he hears you arrived safe, the better." He meant it there. "You had not discussed your family much," he added. "Is your father well? The rest of your family?" He asked as he gestured about them...before he slid his arm through the crook of her own and walked close to her.

"We can stop by the post first, in fact," Lucian remarked as he stepped down the street. "And I'd be foolish not to show you the bakery. I have a brief business with the apothecary that won't take a few moments if you would enjoy exploring in the meantime? But until we get there..."

He was leading her down the street, the townsfolk briefly pausing to note the arrival of Lord Talbot and nodding swiftly, Lucian's own smile pleasant there. "I'm afraid lordships are a quaint thing in this day and age," he whispered to Amelia. "We hardly possess the same beneficence as we once did...we manage affairs, but the town runs on its own..."

He paused at a stall, fishing a sixpence from his pocket to set down, rewarded with a steaming pastry that he offered to Amelia and a nod to the lad managing the stall. "Apple," he said to Amelia with a wink. "Fine ones, too...ah, the town square and fountain are there...sterling silver under the plaster if you believe the old rumors, and the woods..."

The woods remained constant. Unchanging, behind the town. And about them the moors. "Lord Talbot," the voice came and Lucian turned quickly to see a man approachin g.

"Constable Collins," Lucian said, the fellow a tall and rail-thin man with a mustache to match and a uniform. He nodded quickly. "Is all well? No drunken brawls I assume?"

"Hardly, sir. And your generosity was appreciated in the Devons' time of need- "

"Ah, think nothing of it," Lucian said, clearly looking uncomfortable with the subject as eyes turned to him. "Is there...any progress on the..." he trailed off.

"...Evidently not a fit subject before a lady," the constable said quickly, seeing Amelia there. "Begging your pardon, I'll...be on my way. Your lordship, I'd...not linger. Not too long. People are uncomfortable."
 
"Excellent!" chirruped Amelia. She was thoroughly inundated with the idea of the small town more than how it, and in particular its residents, actually presented themselves. Such a thing was a far cry from the smoggy city of London that she felt every breath of fresh crisp air was a boon compared to the company of her wayward family, or what remained of them. In only a day it felt as though she found a kindred soul among the Talbots despite the unconventional circumstances under which she arrived at their home.

The young lady canted her head a bit when Lucian inquired about her family in general. It was a topic she wished to skirt across and did so with the impeccable ease much the same as her skirts swished against the cool breeze. "Ah, my father has been a little unwell these past months. But it is nothing to be concerned over, so I think on other things." Amelia bit her lower lip gingerly while she pondered how to round this out. "My brother's wife is a lovely woman whose company I adore. Laura may find her exceedingly sweet should they ever meet, I think." Laura meeting any of her relations was indeed a far off sentiment but she segued hurriedly. "Once I've mailed the letter I ought to receive a reply within the week, and until then, I am eager for all you can show me here."

And Moonwell proved to have quite a few intrigues already bumping along the old cobbled streets no sooner had she and Lucian gone down the first block. The scent of cinnamon, apples and a pinch of mace wafted into Lady Adler's nose when they arrived at the stall. Fresh hand pies were quickly paid for with a nod from the baker to Lucian, and for a moment she was struck by the lovely glazed pastry. Not to mention the warmth that filled her hands - she almost considered carting it around for just that purpose where her lace gloves failed.

Taking a bite without waiting for to go-ahead, which might be the polite way to go in such lofty company, Amelia was quick to savour the pastry. Her eyes went wide. "Delicious..." she murmured, then remembered herself. A bit louder she spoke while looking back up to Lucian. "Thank you, Lord Talbot. This is... nothing like London's repast. More boiled mutton and oat cakes in the warehouse district than you can probably try in a lifetime," she recalled with a chuckle.

But she didn't have long to finish the pastry when a constable came to them with a stern expression yet kind eyes. The sort of man who might seem frightening until you got to know him. Now more reminded of herself, Amelia side stepped to give the men a bit of privacy during their conversation. Although she couldn't help overhear... Lord Talbot's generosity in whatever extent had been lent out through Moonwell, of that she felt assured despite knowing only the Devons were recipients. Lucian struck her as the type of man who would give of himself wholly for others. An exceedingly kind man. A handsome--

Amelia's pink tongue came out just quick enough to lick up the sugary flakes from her mouth. Her face turned for a semblance of modesty while she tidied up - and it certainly helped to hide the little blush pinking her cheeks.

With the constable off, she offered a small nod of acknowledgement to the man, yet her gaze was again affixed firmly to Lucian. "Ah, I do not wish to pry," began his guest, obviously hinting that the closeness to the sensitive discussion had piqued her intrigue. "I hope whatever matter the constable is assisting with is progressing well," Amelia added hurriedly and with an amenable face. Perhaps she would dig deeper later when they weren't in the open.

"You!" shouted the red coated man. The same one with the ragged ascot Amelia had seen on the carriage ride in. It appeared the leering passerby followed the pair and once unfettered from the constable's presence, he closed in. His finger was pointed squarely in Lucian's direction. Though he came towards them he stopped short of encroaching on their personal space.

"Bloody Talbots, a pox on our village!" he continued, seething all the more as he glared at Lucian. His tirade was briefly interrupted to see Amelia considering he did not recognize her as one of them, but he relented. "Think you can pay a kindness to one family and it'll repair all the misdeeds of yours? You shouldn't 'ave come here," growled the incorrigible ruffian.

It seemed his shouting caught the constable's attention and all desire to remain quiet were likely dashed for Lucian. With measured yet quick steps, the constable marched back over and grabbed the man by his upper arm.

"Silas, enough!" growled the constable. People were already staring and it was beginning to draw more attention.
 
Despite the grim shadows cast on the visit to Moonwell, Lucian was taking comfort in one thing, if absolutely nothing else that existed in his life as it currently stood to bring him a momentary passing of joy, it was Amelia now. The enthusiasm that had lit up her face when she beheld Moonwell...well, Lucian supposed it must have been such a change for what she remembered of London. Lucian knew of the smokestacks and the factories, of the slums and the disreputable areas, of the rivers like the Thames so polluted that beer and wine were more preferable for drinking than risk imbibing toxicity.

Moonwell was different. It was evidently a place carved out of the wilderness, but a place that took a piece of the wilderness with it upon arrival. Rustic, as though recalling a dimly remembered past for England of days old. Of course, it was no such thing. Tales of England from before were just that; stories. But Moonwell had its own beauty. The people here were good people.

It just so happened they cared very little for the Talbots and their own unique history to the town. Lucian hoped to bury that topic of conversation and the reasons why, but it was bound to come up. But when she mentioned her father, he stared at her in gentle beckoning to continue forth. "I...am sure Laura would find her....exceedingly sweet," he said, choosing his words very carefully. "I would expect there will be a response soon enough and I am happy for your brother..."

He wondered if this was a reason she had come to Ravenhallow. If her father's difficulties had resulted in hardships for the entire family, perhaps she had hoped to spin her fortunes upward, to help her family. Her eagerness to depart Ravenhallow frankly spoke for itself and he wondered how he might address other matters. "Laura tends to prefer the company of women at times," he added. "She is more...comfortable there. She encourages me to do the same, in fact!" He said, trying to bring the conversation to a point of happiness before he commenced the tour of Moonwell, with its fresh pies.

Lucian was rather free with money. In fact, the town did not seem to have any issues with poverty. IT seemed to be thriving, agriculturally and otherwise. The place was simple, humble even, but far from struggling. Everyone seemed to be dressed in what they wanted. Doing what they wanted. Lucian had collected a few bites of bacon and biscuit from another stall, devouring it in several bites, his grin growing at mention of London's cuisine.

"I do not recall mentions of London cuisine with particular fondness," he said dryly. "I hear that spices are a most endangered commodity there, besides tea..." The news of the constable, however, brought a dark cloud over the day, Lucian's polite expression unperturbed by the evident brusqueness of the constable before them.

The mentions of the Talbot as a pox did little to deter Lucian's smile. "Ah...pay that no mind." He tried to pick his words carefully. "Long ago, you might say the Talbots were not...always a boon to the local regions. Unfortunately, in the ages of kings, barons and feudalism, there were those who exercised what they imagined as right of divinity in most barbaric ways. Such things ended with the enlightenment, I am happy to say."

When the constable seized the man's arm, Lucian held up a hand. "Please, no need for any violence or unpleasantness, I assure you!" He said. The crowd was staring at him in a way that drew nothing but discomfort. "I merely wished to give Lady Adler the tour...and to convey mine and Laura's personal sentiments and sorrows. I can assure you- "

A rock pitched from the crowd by an unseen hand struck Lucian's head. He flinched back, a trickle of blood coming down under his scalp. "WHO THREW THAT?!" One constable shouted, the crowd shrinking back. "Lord Talbot, my apologies- "

"No...not at all..." Lucian said, retrieving a handkerchief to dab at the wound. "It looks worse than it is, I promise..." He breathed in. "Let us...not let this ruin the remainder of the day..."

One woman snorted, eyes on Amelia. "Ya stayin' at Ravenhallow?" She asked, incredulous. "You? Pretty little thing at Ravenhallow? heard 'em in the wolves? Henry Devon musta..."

"I...confess this is not going as I'd imagined..." Lucian whispered to Amelia, a sadness in his eyes. "Let us quickly go to our errands. I'll show you the rest of the town, if we have leave?"

"I assure you, your lordship, you'll be unmolested," the constables had dispersed the crowd. "We'll find who- "

"God's wounds, just leave it. Like we need more ill blood," Lucian said, apologetic to Amelia. "...Let us...continue? I'd hate to dampen the day for you."

While the woman staring at Amelia only grinned, two more words from her lips before she melded back into the crowd.

"Good luck."
 
Whatever laughter Amelia could gleam from their conversation about family and food was quickly turned upside down in the constable's wake. The angry man in the red ascot took liberties with Lucian's arrival, never having a care for a lady in his presence while he spat venom towards a man who had been nothing but gracious tto her. By the hushed conversation Lord Talbot had with the constable prior it appeared his altruism extended easily to the denizens of Moonwell. Yet, their reaction was nothing short of volatile? At least when it came to this perturbed man, Silas.

Amelia stepped back slightly as the crowd began to gather in the wake of Silas' angry shouts. She reached out for Lucian by habit as if to coax him back. "It seems some families are harbouring a very long vengeance since the Enlightenment then..." she murmured in observation. Her auburn head canted over to Luc to see what he wished to do, as she was quite happy to take their leave now with the post delivered and a small meal enjoyed while Moonwell was still receptive to his presence. But the crowd grew and so too did others carrying ill sentiment.

The rock careened through the air mid-sentence to strike Lucian with an audible thunk. Amelia's eyes went wide like the constable's, and the other man blanched with sheer rage. Silas, on the other hand, chuckled loud with pride.

Feathers thoroughly ruffled, the constable released Silas' forearm roughly enough to send the vile man back a few steps. He kept his balance and smirked impishly with yellowed teeth at Amelia, causing her to barely hold back a look of disgust. Still, her attention went straight to Lucian and Silas took the opportunity to slink back into the crowd.

"Here, let me," Amelia insisted. She reached for Luc's kerchief to dab at his forehead. Though the small wound proved a stubborn source. "We should go back. Gerald is surely still nearby with the carriage." A woman ogled them, or more precisely Amelia, with an incredulous look. Henry Devon? The whole affair was a small fire ignited and extinguished in a few heartbeats, yet it had left its destructive mark all the same.

Pulling back the crimson stained kerchief from Luc's brow, Amelia inhaled quietly. She looked briefly at the constable. "I believe your assurances are well meant, sir, but I think it might be best to return to Ravenhallow. Lord Talbot?" Amelia regarded him for an answer. The constable tipped his hat to them in respect of whatever their answer may be, then moved off to give them space. Newly alone, Lady Adler nipped her bottom lip in mild nervousness but it wasn't for her own safety she feared. "Shall we?" Amelia pressed on, reaching for Luc's forearm.
 
For all his excitement to have shown Amelia Moonwell, that had been well washed clean by the outburst of rage and intimidation demonstrated by the crowd. There was nothing quite like a rock striking your skull to remind you of how volatile a situation might be. As with all other things, though, Lucian seemed bound and determined not to allow it to ruin the remainder of the day. And there were things he did not wish Amelia to know.

More than a few things in fact. Silas's own reaction had not been markedly unfair. Lucian was still reeling from the blow, unmistakably a touch light headed, while Silas retreated. Lucian was dimly aware of Amelia's voice. Scalp wounds, he had once learnt to his misfortune upon a nasty slip and fall as a little boy, had a tendency to bleed poorly, even if the injury was not serious. "I do daresay we have overstayed our welcome, my dear Lady Adler," Lucian added, attempting to lend a touch of humor to the mix. "I suppose I may have overestimated the cordial relationships between our own cozy Ravenhallow and the good town of Moonwell at this time.

"Lord Talbot," the constable added. "I'm beggin' your pardon, but it might do best you give me a few days to smooth things over, what with the recent killing and all."

"You mirror my thoughts, Constable. I trust no efforts are being spared?"

"None, your lordship," the man added with a note of professional pride.

"And the army has not been notified?"

"Not yet, Lord Talbot. I'll send a missive myself to Ravenhallow if anything comes up, then." The constable nodded delicately, while Lucian turned to Amelia, hoping she had not been bothered by such a conversation.

"We shall," he murmured, reaching to take her arm. A thin scarlet trickle still clung to his head, thought he kerchief had dabbed away the worst of it. A deep sigh escaped the young lord of the manor. "I offer my strenuous apologies, milady Adler," he whispered. "There has been some poor blood in the past. Some of my ancestors did not conduct themselves with honor among their holdings, I regret to say....please do not judge them harshly. A man was found on the moors recently. I regret to say his life was ended in a most tragic manner. You hear talk of...legends as a result. Old stories."

He sighed heavily, feeling his forehead. "We should take care Laura does not see this. It would not please her. I have hoped to show you more near the forest, and the lake nearby. It is quite lovely this time of year..." His voice trailed off, a sorrowful tone creeping into his voice.

"Please. Do not judge them harshly. There are reasons the people of Moonwell might have to be wary of the Talbot family..." he was repeating himself when they sat back into the carriage, and yet he could not help it. He considered his word and asked a question, barely audible.

"Do you wish to...leave Ravenhallow so soon, Amelia?"

---

Hours hence,

Theodore Cavendish was still congratulating himself over the rock he had thrown earlier. He'd aimed true, catching the head of the bastard in his fancy clothes, before that wench of his. Theodore was smiling with a smug satisfaction on his lips, the work in the fields near done. He was exchanging an especially satisfied look with the maid, Kate, who was quickly gathering the crops from the field, Theo moving to take down the sheets hanging between the poles.

"Shame ya didn't throw harder," Kate said with a wink, her blond hair tucked beneath a white cap. "Could've pasted the bastard there. And who was the lass with him?"

"Hells if I know. Some new whore, wouldn't surprise me none." Theo was a handsome young man, athletic and gifted. He'd known when to pull his punches, or hold back on the rock if need be. People in Moonwell were being quite cautious recently, what with the recent murder. It was just like the days of old, the aged grand dams would claim. The days of the beasts that prowled the forests, the days when the Talbots-

"Not worried?" Kate asked suddenly, making Theo halt in his task. He was suddenly aware the sun was setting, sliding itself behind the horizon to allow darkness to descend across the fields.

"Strength in numbers," Theo muttered. There were others working there, strong lads as well, who worked the fields with him. Except...had the day died so quickly? It had gotten dark so soon. He could not see anyone else about him. A sudden urge to be back inside filled him and he was about to ask Kate if she minded sharing a bed. He was never averse to such things, but tonight...it seemed more about averting solitude-

A low rumble sounded, a sound like the very shifting of the earth. His hands reached to one of the sheets before him and the noise repeated. It sounded like the growling of the miller's old hound, except it was longer and deeper.

It was hungrier.

Theo looked down. Under the sheets were two feet. But to call them feet would have been quite inaccurate. They were large, thick and black, ending in tiny little talons. Behind the sheet, he saw an outside of something tall, muscular, with eyes that blazed with hellfire and teeth dripping with saliva.

A hand, covered in black fur, slid upon the top of the sheet and tore it away. Theo found himself staring at nightmares and his body gave way, his trousers stained in front as his mouth worked out inane babble. The thing before him drew back lips from those teeth

god those teeth

It seemed to smile at him, staring and waiting. And Theo ran. He turned and fled, forgetting Kate, who stood there, shivering, her mouth working. He ran, not for the village, but for the woods, in his panic.

and it was gone, following him, a great shadow in pursuit in the woods, where the sum of all human terror might be found, for no woods were vast enough to encompass all the nightmares that might be lurking behind each and every tree. Kate made to run, to flee back to the village and to the safety of home when she saw the woman.

She was dressed all in white, her smile that of an angel, her lips the rosy shade of fresh orchard apples. her eyes were a brilliant blue, her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders. Kate forget her panic, forgot her fear, stared only at the woman now approaching her with an extended hand, and a smile. A hand that felt as ice against her own. Lips that felt so cold against hers. But when they touched her neck, they burnt like fire. She forgot everything, heard nothing more. Not the final, choked off scream from the woods.

Not the great and triumphant mourning howl that followed it.

A howl that would touch the ears of even those in Ravenhallow.
 
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