HER
Two months Prior
"Adah." I'm in her arms in an instant.
She smells like flour and soap; warm, steady, home.
"Now now, it smells terrible in here. What did you do?"
—
After Adah manages to perform a miracle and make my dish semi-edible we sit, full bellied at my small table.
"You seem destined to attract attention wherever you go," she sighs, exasperated. "And I thought dress-making would be inconspicuous."
I shrug, laughing.
She's right, though. When I first came here three years ago, Adah picked this specifically for me. Seamstress.
Something easily forgettable.
However, my knowledge of Kingsward fashions, my ease with sewing, and eye for detail shot me up the ladder until I was the go-to luxury dress maker for nobles.
"At least we had the forethought to change your name, Laura Prescott."
I hum in agreement. There is a question in the back of my throat. Slowly beginning to press its way forward.
I have no right to ask it.
And yet, I always do.
"How is… everyone?"
She shoots me the same, pained look she gives me every time.
"Amber is pregnant."
I gasp, joy sending me jumping out of my chair.
"That's wonderful! Her and Elliot must be overjoyed." Familiar pain starts just after the initial shot of happiness.
I wasn't at their wedding.
I will not meet the baby.
Adah just watches me, watches the grief settle over me.
"Everyone is excited, the house could use some joy, after the past few years."
I nod, another wave of grief hitting me just below my ribs.
Grace.
Her laughter still echoes in my dreams.
I never got to say goodbye.
I sit again, not able to continue standing.
"You… you remember your promise?" My voice comes out weak.
"I do."
I sigh, heavy once again.
When Grace died, I didn't learn about it until Adah came to visit. For safety, she only sends one letter a month under the guise of a distant family member.
I heard the news from Adah, and had collapsed under the weight of it. Under the guilt and grief and despair.
Never again.
I made Adah promise, if anyone was in danger, I would know, even if I could never do anything.
I look at her once more, waiting.
"What?"
This is the information she is most unwilling to share.
The information I am most desperate to know.
I just look at her, pleading.
She frowns, defeated.
"He's fine."
Every word is hesitant, kept close to her chest.
"Is he…happy?"
It causes me pain to hear about him. And yet, I can't stop. Can't stop wondering. Asking.
"He's happy."
I nod, looking at my hands. Guilt presses into my lungs. I rest my forehead on my hand.
There is a moment of silent consideration before she speaks in a rush.
"He's in love."
The words are like a knife to the gut.
You have no claim to him.
I suck in steadying breaths and rise from my chair, unable to be still. I walk over to my small window and look out at the bustling street below.
"She's Anna's maid, Sara."
I watch as a small child grabs her mothers hand, boisterous laughter lighting up her small face.
I only nod mechanically.
"That's good."
My words sound hollow even to me.
"You can't go back, Laura."
I know that as well as she does.
And yet.
There was always hope.
That maybe one day I would return and things would… go back to how they were?
Foolish.
Bitter bile fills my mouth, disgust with myself, with my situation, turning my stomach.
A small part of me whispers: how dare he?
How dare you? I respond.
Jealousy threatens to knock me over.
Jealousy keeps me upright.
Fighting fire with fire.
I shake the thoughts away forcefully.
I can never go back.
—
Present Day
I clutch Adah's last letter in my hand, the paper digging into my palms.
When it arrived, I knew it was something bad. Her previous letter had arrived only a week before.
With shaking hands I had opened it, fear gripping my heart.
It was probably already too late.
Dearest Laura,
I am keeping my promise.
Amber has fallen ill, and her and the baby are in danger. The local doctor is unable to fully treat her here, but there is no way to move her, and the Kingsward doctors cost more than they'll make in a lifetime.
It is unlikely she will recover.
Best,
Adah
P.S. Stay where you are.
The sea breeze whips my hair against my face, the sun shining off the water, blinding.
Stay where you are.
I breathe deeply as I look out over the vast bay. At the land slowly emerging from the mist.
Angloria.
HIM
I rub a hand down my face, exhaustion in my bones. The past few weeks have been hard on everyone.
Every day I walk down to the hospital to visit Amber. Elliot stays by her side always.
Anger sends a shoe flying from my hand, into the mending room wall.
They can't treat her.
Amber forbids Elliot from asking the family for money, and they don't have enough to get her a doctor.
Breaths saw out of me.
"What are you thinking?"
Adah's voice stops me short. It's full of uncharacteristic anger, and fear.
I push off the table and make my way to the hallway.
The door to the servants' courtyard is cracked open, and heat and her words flow in.
A soft voice, much quieter, responds to her, sounding desperate.
"You can't be here. If anyone should see you…"
The voice responds as I continue to walk down the hallway.
My heart hammers.
It can't be.
"Please, just give them the money. I'll leave, please."
The voice claws at my chest, I've heard it in dreams, in memory. It can't be.
Impossible.
When I throw the door open, it slams against the wall, the sound echoing around the courtyard.
"Aleksi."
The word barely leaves her mouth, it's more of a breath than anything.
Not real.
My brain scrambles. I must be dreaming. Stress must have transformed someone into her.
Except.
Except I do not remember this version of her.
The Laura Charles standing in front of me is one I've never seen.