Unwelcome At Home - Tumblr Posts

She had packed before her parents came to her room. They disliked when she “anticipated” them, but she’d seenfeltheard it coming and Auberdine was used to such feelings. She gave herself to them freely, lived her life by them. There was a tremulous feeling in her belly that told her it wouldn’t be that way for long.

“The servants are always running their mouths around you,” her mother tutted as she ensured everything in Auberdine’s case was packed properly. “It’s like they don’t even know you’re there.”

The servants didn’t speak to her, nor much around her. They didn’t like her ability any more than her mother did. But it was easier for Lady LeBlanc to blame them than to accept. Auberdine didn’t bother to correct her anymore. About anything.

“There’s birdsong there,” she said suddenly, the impression strongest in her mind. “And lovely flowers in pink and purple and gold.”

“Yes, dear,” Emerald LeBlanc dismissed her daughter’s rambling speech and shut the travel case. “I’m sure it will be quite lovely there. The clinic should have you straightened out in no time.”

“But I’m not crooked,” Auberdine frowned.

Her mother sighed and shook her head, taking her arm and leading her down to the carriage. “You will do as the healers say. One of them is a charr, but he seems civil enough.” She stopped at the threshold and squared her daughter’s shoulders, willing Auberdine to be serious just this once. “But you must focus on getting better. On becoming the gracious young woman I know you can be.”

Auberdine cocked her head. “Why does it all taste like smoke, I wonder?” she said distantly.

Lady LeBlanc’s lips pressed to a thin line. “Why can we never have a normal conversation? Why can I not say goodbye to you in peace without these...outbursts!” She stepped away, gesturing a dismissal at her daughter. “I will see you in a few weeks,” she called, moving into the deep shade of the house.

Pale eyes watched her go and Auberdine frowned. Didn’t her mother know she tried? She did her best, but sometimes moving in the world was beyond her. With a sigh, she climbed inside the coach. She’d worn boots. There would be mud and worse ere the end. Best to be prepared.

As his mother droned on about what she and his father planned on doing to him, Evan Knight decided he was living in a nightmare. It wasn’t like he was robbing banks! The Seraph got uppity when people started fighting, but it never resulted in anything. Nothing scandalous like cousin Margaret stepping out with the baker’s daughter. A commoner, really? So what if he drank? Everyone he knew drank! His father drank!

But Mother was being entirely irrational about the whole thing and one of the bitties from her sewing circle was whispering to her again as another way to ‘put him on the straight and narrow.’ As if he was meant to be on that path.

“Listen to your mother,” his father growled in his ear and Evan had to resist the urge to jump out of his seat. The man was famously silent on his feet.

“It’s only two weeks, darling,” Demitricia Knight paused in the act of packing his clothes. Like he was some child instead of a grown man who didn’t need his mother’s assistance with everything. “And when you come back, things will be more peaceful. Sedate. You can begin courting one of the nice young ladies I’ve been bringing up to you. All will be well.” She turned to him and smiled, as if her words would change the universe to suit her opinions.

He felt the heavy hand of his father on his shoulder and the sharp, near-painful squeeze. So Evan spoke with tact. “I’m sure you’re right, Mother. I’ll take the time to think on things and come back a changed man.” He glanced up at his father as if to ask, ‘Are you happy?’ As usual, the man’s eyes were on his wife, smiling in a charming way. His father did everything he could to mold the world to his mother’s whims. And that meant molding him as well. The idea of willingly stepping into such an arrangement with a woman made him physically ill. But he didn’t have to tell them the truth. Lies worked just as well and kept both of them from yelling at him.

The coachman interrupted before he could get into anymore trouble and Evan was quickly ushered out the door.

“Do write to us,” his mother called, waving a handkerchief. His father gave him a solemn nod, which Evan returned. They understood one another better than his mother, even if they each deplored the other’s choices.

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” he replied from the coach window.

When the coach was on its way, Evan opened the hollow seat where the liquor was stored. This trip would require a drink. A lot of drink.

It was empty.

Cursing, Evan flung himself back into the seat of the coach, sorely tempted to try to jump from the window, even at speed. Two weeks, he thought to himself. Surely I can handle that much.

It was a long ride.