𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 ❀ ᴛᴇᴡᴋᴇꜱʙᴜʀʏ₁

❀𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞❀

The next morning is a bit of a blur. We pack up our little camp quickly and somehow manage to get a ride on a sheep-cart that is London-bound.

As we move through the picturesque countryside, I come to know the Viscount Alexander Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether. He's actually not a pompous idiot like I expected most people of his status to be. He's human, just like I am. And I love that about him. That I find a human that I can just learn about. His life is so different to mine, and yet so similar. We were both locked away from the world as children, but I felt free while he felt trapped. I think I laugh more on this trip than I have in years.

Enola doesn't mind him either. In fact, I think she's decided to give the boy a second chance. That is so relieving I cannot even begin to explain. The nonstop quarreling was beginning to get annoying.

Soon, too soon, the cart moves from the rolling hills into densely packed brick buildings. We have arrived at our destination, the big city of London. To be honest, it's bittersweet. My sister and I are one step closer to finding our mother, but I am losing someone who I have become indescribably close with in this short period of time. Its odd. I feel I know so much about him and I spoke to him for the first time just about a day ago. Tewkesbury has something about him that makes you just want to know him, and know him I do. At least, I feel I do. I feel connected to him in some otherworldly way, in a way I've never felt before. But I cannot dwell on that now.

My sister hops down from the cart as it stops momentarily. Enola grabs my hand and pulls me down as well. I turn to the boy left inside.

"So... this is where we part?" Tewkesbury asks, a melancholy look plastered across his face. He brushes a hand through his, now shortened, hair, pushing it away from his eyes.

"It is," my sister replies, turning towards me. I look up at the boy, a sad smile on my face. He looks at Enola quickly, and then moves his gaze to me. The viscount nods slowly, and states, "Then thank you, Enola and Elowyn Holmes, for helping me here."

I could cry and laugh at the same time. In place of doing either, however, I keep my smile, speaking mock-seriously, "You were supposed to forget those names, remember?"

He smiles back, looking right at me. "Then I suppose you'll have to find another," he says, aimed directly to me. Nobody ever speaks directly to Elowyn Holmes, it's always Enola. It feels nice to be noticed, for once.

The cart rolls away and I stare after it for a moment, watching Tewkesbury fade from view, before realizing Enola has walked away. I dart after her, falling perfectly into step next to my twin.

I take this time to think. On the one hand, London is a big city. My mother has to be here somewhere. For her, there would be endless possibilities to do everything she desires in this place. It has hopes and dreams, it has wishes and rising stars. But like every city, it has suffering and hunger, homeless and ailing. There is everything here.

On the other hand, London is a big city. It's huge, and would take years to search in every place my mother could possibly be. There's no hope of just getting lucky and finding her in the first place we look. No, we have to use everything we know and- not get hit by a carriage like Enola nearly just did. Our mother didn't really teach us anything about the world beyond Ferndell's gates. It could have been helpful to us, in the center of all of England's best to offer from all walks of life. There are musicians and writers, poets and painters. Everyone, everything. It is loud and exciting, and that's how the people are too. So we must be careful.

Enola grabs my arm and pulls me to a side street. She stops right in front of a dress shop, and explains her idea to me. The last thing Sherlock and Mycroft would expect, should they look for us, would be for us to actually be dressed as ladies. This is one of Enola's better ideas, which says a lot. We step inside.