Scintilla~Chain of Gold; The Last Hours | on hold

𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

London 1892

Eleanor Baneswood did nothing but worry, for her daughter. It was an anxiousness birthed from love; for her daughter was so much like her father in all his goodness and all his flaws. The little girl had her father's face from the point of her nose to her ink-dot eyes and jet black hair only in the thing on the little girls' face, Eleanor could confidently claim as her own were the freckles that speckled across her face like fallen stardust- those she knew were hers. Eleanor didn't mind that her daughter took after her father, she didn't mind that she had his looks or his introvert personality she only worried because she knew the rest of the world did mind.

Like her father, to truly connect had to invest time, effort, and a great amount of kindness - but Eleanor found most children lacked the patience. Each day she saw her daughter place a brick around herself she was building up a wall - with each failed attempt at friendship and each unkind word the wall grew in height. Eleanor feared that if she didn't soon that one day the wall would be impossible to knockdown. Now she only had to hope that she'd been right sending that letter to Idris. The London enclave was small all the faces she'd known had settled down in Idris or become engrossed in politics and work.

She ruffled her daughter's hair and slide a plate of toasted bread and lemon curd in front of the girl. Then poured steaming coffee into the mug of her pensive husband before taking her seat opposite him at the head of the table. She stirred two sugar cubes into her coffee took two sips to wet her throat then coughed several times till she got the attention of the table.

"Mama should add some cherry lozenges to the shopping list," Seren said between bites of toast "Old Mags is taking me to the market today."

Eleanor let out an exaggerated sigh, "I've not got a cough dear mama just has something to say."

Confused Seren turned to her father chubby-faced and doe-eyed, "Papa do I have to cough before I talk."

Toshiro abandoned his quill amongst the pages of his journal he was never pulled from his work but it seemed his wife's coughing fit had done so. He chuckled "No, dear but it's a good way to get the attention of the room"

"What is it you have to tell us, my love." He turned his attention to his wife.

For a brief second, Eleanor broke her gaze from her husband and cast her green eyes to her coffee cup as if it would answer for her. She anxiously tapped her foot against the wood leg of her chair then finally answered, "We'll be hosting guests tonight."

"Here ?" He rose a brow, Toshiro wasn't the most social of people his wife knew this. Outside of work he only had his family and few friends from his days at the scholmance, despite the size of the house they never hosted guests. If a fellow shadowhunter needed a place to stay there was always the institute and if they needed entertainment the Albery Theatre in Westminster put on great shows. It was safe to say Toshiro wasn't a peoples person, though he sometimes felt like he was forcing his family to become recluses.

"Where else would I invite them my dear, the house in Kyoto? We haven't been there in decades it's not a problem is it?"

"No of course not it'll be exciting to have some guests. This house has been too empty for too long." He smiled, though even Seren could tell it was forced. She didn't get what he meant my empty there were always Old Mags in the kitchen and Timothy that delivered the daily paper. How many more people did they need?

"What guests!" Seren exclaimed she hated the idea of people disturbing her safe space, especially people she didn't know.

"An old friend, Charlotte Branwell." Said Eleanor "it'll be fun!"