𝑰𝑵𝑲 • 𝑻𝒆𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 / 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

Where We Differ

Your voice makes me feel warm inside

My blood boils from within,

Your touch is like the sun itself

I burns against my skin

—————

The rest of that week had felt long. Warm weather brought late nights and early mornings, the sun not setting until well into the evening. The days seemed to harbour extra hours, hiding them where I'd usually find lost time. But I didn't mind, I had reason to dread the weekend.

The dress I'd collected for Lady Tewkesbury was for attending a wedding. Her niece, the boy's cousin, was getting married today. I'd been asked to come along as they decided they could use the extra help. I wasn't one to say no to requests, so I obliged.

A similar event had taken place the previous year, but I hadn't been asked to take part in that one. I was too young back then, but in all honesty, I don't really feel any older now. Mum had decided that there were some things I wasn't ready to know, but in hindsight, it didn't matter.

That was when it happened, when T and I had been left alone at the manor. But I guess things changed after the engagement. I'd had a taste of adulthood, the life of a woman beside a man. And besides, I knew more than I wish I did, there wasn't anything she could keep me from anymore.

I travelled there by carriage, alongside 2 other girls. Grace, I knew from the kitchen; She'd only been working at the manor for about a month, but I saw her at mealtimes. And Freya was a lady's maid like myself. I'd see her in the halls sometimes, her bright red hair never failed to stand out.

The pair of them were young and lively, excited, eager, fresh. They had goals, dreams, interests; all things I found myself unwillingly jealous of. I couldn't help feeling bland beside them. But most of all, I envied how unbothered they seemed to be by the bumpy road below us. I couldn't focus on anything other than the frequent jolts and jumps of the carriage. It was nauseating.

Initially, I had only decided to join in on their conversation to distract from the sick feeling beginning to rise in my gut, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't at all interested in what they had to say.

"I'm looking forward to it," Grace said, "not so much the husband part, but I like children. Always have."

"What about them do you like?" I asked her, genuinely interested in what she had to say. Personally, I'd never been fond of children, nor had I ever really been around them. for as long as I could remember, I'd been the youngest person at Basilwether. I didn't mind it at all, found it quite pleasant actually.

"They're precious," she replied, "in that needy sort of way."

I could sympathize with her desire to feel necessary in the world. I suppose a child was Grace's method of achieving that, although, it seemed a little much for such a specific wish.

"Do they not scare you?" I'd always felt uneasy around children, and felt justified as to why. The idea that they could just burst into tears at any given moment, without so much of a warning. They tend to run off and disappear, and for the first few years, are entirely dependent on their parents.

"What? No." She looked at me with a confused look on her face, like she couldn't imagine ever being scared of children. I felt the same, only the other way around.

Things had fallen silent for a prolonged moment, during which all that could be heard was a mixture of hooves and thin rimmed wheels on the dirt path. Grace and I stared at one another, I think she was trying to figure me out but I was only staring because she was. Or maybe that's what she was doing.