ೃ⁀➷ i. what is normal?

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the lady katherine bassett of hastings wasn't the type of person to second guess or doubt

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the lady katherine bassett of hastings wasn't the type of person to second guess or doubt. especially when it came to herself and the decisions she personally made. yet, as she sat in the quiet garden in the dead of night, painting the fish pond in front of her, she wondered whether or not she made the right choice.

"what a wise decision, brother," she had said, voice dripping with sarcasm, as she entered her brother's study. she need not to look at him to know he was drowning in alcohol. "getting drunk before noon."

"i seem to recall you doing the very same up until recently," the duke of hastings said as he took another large gulp out of the bottle. he looked up and found his sister already holding the bags she was going to bring. "until you suddenly had the desire to travel."

the elder between the two (by a matter of seconds, but it hardly mattered to katherine. as long as she got to boss around her brother) rolled her eyes and placed her bags on the floor. she approached her brother and wrapped her arms around his head. "you act bitter because you will miss me, simon."

he leaned against his sister's embraced and rolled his eyes. "you can only wish, katherine." for years, they only really had each other. it used to be them against their father. now, it was them against the world. "i just don't see the desire to go to travel."

katherine rolled her eyes and ruffled her brother's hair. she then walked towards the door and called for some of the maids to bring the stuff in the carriage. "father is dead, simon. you know better than anyone how he limited my interactions with the outside world. i have the opportunity to do what i want. and what i want is to travel."

she went from seeing her brother every minute of everyday to not seeing each other for about five months now. and most of her doubt roots to her just missing the company of her brother, though she would never tell him that.

but katherine wouldn't trade what she has been doing for anything in the world. when the late-duke of hastings were still alive, he never allowed her to do anything. she was just a shiny ornament he could brag about to his friends.

now, she was in paris but she had circled london and been to belgium. not drinking and partying with everyone else, but painting. her brother would have laughed at the idea of the lady katherine basset not drinking but it was true. alcohol was only preffered in the company of those she knew well enough.

and it not only her brother whom she had missed. another duke, to be precise. the duke of cornwall; philip. he was a childhood friend of she and her brother. the last time either of them saw the young duke was at his father's funeral. last they heard was he was traveling the southern islands.

katherine titled her head as she stared at her painting. it was neither grand nor bland, and she hated it. she hated the idea of not being extra-ordinary. she couldn't even be extra-ordinary in being ordinary. the title her father had given her ensured she would never be normal. but she wasn't male enough to be more.

the vows; theodore 'laurie' laurenceWhere stories live. Discover now