{NOVEL PREVIOUSLY NAMED: "PALE EYES"}
𑁍Julius Cadwell is a pauper from an impoverished village, Porlock of Somerset in England. Julius journeys to Wellington to work as a footman for the Duke of Wellington, Somerset.
♕︎Reuben Griffith is the only s...
I profusely apologise for the late update. I do not want to bore you with the reasons here, but if you'd like to know, please check out my last message on my message board for explanations. Also, I talk a bit about the hopeful future of PALE EYES. Love you all lots for your patience.
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❝Amicus Certus In Re Incerta Cernitur «-♡︎-» A true friend is known in trouble.❞
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❝I measure every grief I meet with narrow, probing, eyes - I wonder if It weighs like mine - Or has an Easier size.❞
•Emily Dickinson.
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Who do you trust? Does it free you to speak your clandestine affairs? Does it shepherd you towards liberty...?
Worker's Quarter ꨄ︎
Rebekah watched the various matches with silent wonderment. The matches were simple but phenomenal. Rebekah could not keep her eyes off the bulky men as their muscles shifted underneath their flesh while they wrestled. She could imagine herself in their place, sweat rolling down her body as her being thrummed with adrenaline.
She cheered when it was Julius' turn to wrestle. Bartholomew deserved what was coming his way. Soon after the match between Julius and Bartholomew began, Rebekah was abruptly pulled out of her fascination when someone bumped into her side.
"My apologies!"
"Watch your step you jollocks," Ferguson whined when the bench he and Rebekah were seated on shook.
"You almost crashed my ribs," Rebekah sighed, gathering the sprawled tweed coat that had tumbled to the ground after the collision. "It is all grubby now," she muttered to herself in exasperation.
"I apologise," the chubby young man repeated.
"Don't bother," she assured with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Her attention briefly returned to the wrestle when she heard a grunt from Bartholomew. Rebekah wanted to continue the match, but she was sure Julius would appreciate her taking his clothes to soak.
"Where are you off to?" Ferguson inquired as she made to leave.
"I must take Julius clothes to the scullery for a soak."
