Ordained

Chapter Nineteen

Emmeline took a long time walking around the shelves, holding her hands behind her back like a child told not to touch. Chewing on the inside of her cheek with excitement she moved carefully between the bookcases, noting where things were. The Marcellus library's collection was impressive. Books on botany, history, medicine, astronomy, alchemy, were all neatly ordered on row after row. Emmeline spied several books she'd like to read but refrained from pulling them from their places, holding out hope for what she most enjoyed. Fiction.

She had read once that 'Reading is dangerous for young ladies, it rots their morals and gives them dangerous designs.' It was a quote from a newspaper called The Daily Adda, a disreputable paper that if she had been caught with, would've led to a punishment unspeakably bad. Lavender had gotten her hands on a copy once and she and Emily had joined her in gasping and giggling at the contents. Ever since, whenever Emmeline found herself searching for something new to read, the quote popped into her head, making her smile.

With each step she found herself relaxing a little, that tense ball in her stomach unknotting itself bit by bit. Books were magic, she sighed contentedly to herself. No one could tell her otherwise, rotting morals be damned.

She had rounded yet another corner when she came face to face with an ageing man with a book under his arm that looked to be a ledger. Bits of paper were sticking out haphazardly from between the pages, the cover well-worn from use. Emmeline guessed him to be a steward, great houses often employing many such men to handle the affairs of their lands for them.

No one had the time to be pouring over every little detail of running such a large swathe of land themselves. No, it was the job of men such as this to ensure that the Duke and Duchess appeared competent and in control.

"Let me assist you, your grace."

Your grace? She thought, the superior title sounding foreign when connected to her.

"Miss Elva is fine." She smiled warmly. Perhaps the poor man was just mistaken. His eyes had a milky quality to them, the lines in his skin reminding her of softly folded leather. The man's greying hair moved erratically as he shook his head furiously.

"I would never address you as such, your grace. You are to be our next duchess." He sounded half scandalised and Emmeline fought back the small smile that threatened. He was very mistaken.

"I highly doubt I will be the next duchess, there is no need for such formalities. I promise." She added when his eyes widened in alarm.

A solemn expression fell over his lined features. "It would be a grave mistake to ignore the blessing of Bevira." He warned, half whispering.

Emmeline paused, studying his face for a moment. Feeling brave she spoke candidly. She didn't much point in doing anything else; the staff of a house knew what was happening sometimes faster than those they served. Her sister-in-law Olive had warned her of it once.

'Make no mistake, little one, the staff always know everything.'

"The duke and duchess seem to have... little regard for the pairing." She voiced, a little cautiously. She was mostly certain that this man would be on her side, but it was still a dangerous thing to speak badly of a liege to his people.

The aged man seemed to turn a shade of grey that had Emmeline mentally worrying. "Their graces will change their minds. Some-" Although he didn't say who. "Have strayed away from the old ways, but many of us here still hold fast with the ancient rituals."

Making her jump he reached suddenly out and took her hand. His grip was stronger than she had expected, the fine tremor in his hand making her feel a little uncomfortable. "Have strength, your grace. The gods will not desert you."

Emmeline just nodded. She had never been particularly religious, not that she didn't believe per se, she just didn't spend much time in prayer. Perhaps if she had spent more time in the temples she wouldn't be in the situation she was now, she thought.

The intensity of the old man had her a little knocked off kilter, and rather than continuing her search, she instead grabbed the nearest book and smiled at the man, Holding it aloft with an awkward smile when he offered to assist her once again.

Abandoning her book search, she took her random selection and retreated to the nearest armchair. It took her a minute to pause, but once she had settled she found herself going over his words carefully in her mind. Her chair seemed to mound itself to her shape, the plump cushions irreducible soft. 'Many of us here still hold fast with the ancient rituals.' She recounted, surprised by the flicker of warmth it elicited inside her.

It made her feel... less alone somehow. Knowing she wasn't the only one who thought the pairing meant something.

Running the tip of her index along the spine of the book in her lap she mindlessly enjoyed the sensation of her finger tripping over the bumps of the binding. She hadn't wished for a title, she didn't much care for it now. Duchess seemed like something unattainable and therefore irrelevant to her. No, what she had wanted, what it all boiled down to for Emmeline, was that she had wanted someone to love her. She deserved that didn't she?

Sinking a little deeper into her chair she tilted her head skywards, studying the painted ceiling far, far above her.

She stared without really seeing as her mind mulled things over. She did deserve to be loved, and if the goddess had decided that Cassius was that person for her, who was she, Cassius, or the Marcellus' to argue?

The soft, unshaped emotions and thoughts that had been sliding around unchecked in her mind began to solidify as she considered this. They slipped under and over one another, blurring together little by little till they had hardened into something more concrete. Something certain.

That morning her determination to stay, to stick it out, had been ill-informed and half-baked. It had been fuelled by uncertainty, by not knowing what else to do, rather than any real resolve.

Emmeline closed her eyes to frescos above, letting the final pieces of her decision click tentatively together. She had entered the pairing, had faced giving up her family and friends for the promise of love. Love. She thought of love with a longing that ached. Someone to stand by her, to protect her.

Nodding to no one, Emmeline made herself a promise. To hell with Victor and Carmen Marcellus. Cassius was supposed to be her perfect partner, and she was going to make sure he at least had a chance to get to know her before he threw her away. Why not try? She had nothing to lose. 

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Author's Note:

Let's gooooo, Emmie is standing up for herself.

Ty,

Sophie