The more he drank, the more debt accumulated, and the more desperate he grew to hide it from his family.
Until it was too late.
Father had caught consumption at the beginning of the last year, wasting away quickly with the help of the alcohol permeating his study in his final moments. He often did not leave that room, insisting it would be his tomb. Many a night, I wandered the halls, too sleepless to stay in bed.
Outside of the study one night, I was not the only lonely soul. Behind the door, Father was muttering to himself the old prayers similar to the ones I’d heard in church in languages from my studies. Each line he spoke sounded with such fervor and felt as if the man was afraid for his soul as much as he was of death.
Before summer’s breath, he was gone. He left us with debt miles high, a scandal to suppress, and the illness that took him.
The illness that ravaged me.
“Chin up, Valeria. People are watching,” Mama whispered, peering over at another young lady getting fitted for her first season. She adjusted the stray hairs falling from the hazard pins, clumps of black hair curled around her fingers. “We must be on our way.”
The streets of Endovior were alive and well, with people bustling past us as we made our way to a local tea shop. The sun beamed, the afternoon heat stifling as Mama hastened our pace, flying past ladies and gentlemen darting out of her way.
I clung to Miriam, looping our arms as one as we walked together in swishing skirts.
She hummed a tune, one I had not heard in some years, a sweet lulling melody she’d pluck on her harp.
During simpler times.
I lost myself in the sweet tune, using her more as a crutch than I’d like to admit as the familiar constrict in my chest worsened.
The city’s squalor was extra pungent that day in the heat of summer.
I refrained from shielding my nose from the odor and stood closer to Miriam, inhaling her cinnamon perfume.
A large shadow barreled toward us, quick and inhumane, skirting the edge of the crowd and against my peripheral. Black dots floated in my vision, chest heaving as I struggled to keep upright. The silhouette draped in darkness slammed into my shoulder, knocking me off my feet.
I stumbled backward into the man, holding on for dear life and using his trench coat as leverage.
Arms shifted around me before I hit the ground. I felt lightheaded, the crowd blurring around us as the brightness of the day adjusted to the shadow beside me.
I gazed upward to find gold orbs fixed in surprise. Shadows from his hat played against tan skin beneath a mask.
It struck me as odd.
Righting myself, I fluffed out my skirt and ensured my purse had not been open before huffing, “Thanks.”
I huddled near Miriam, attempting to keep my distance from this man. He was overly dressed for the hot summer weather, covered head to toe in a long black draping coat and a top hat shielding him from scrutiny.
I scowled, rubbing my sternum to ease a cough bubbling to the surface.
“I’m sorry, miss,” the stranger said, their voice coming out more like a growl.
A long wisp the color of moonlight poked out from under his hat as he tipped his hat in greeting and disappeared into the crowd.
“What an odd fellow,” Miriam commented. “It’s far too warm to be wearing black. He might faint.”
I looped my arm in hers, dismissing the encounter. “Come now. I’m sure Mama is furious that we didn’t keep up.”
When we’d reached the tea shop, I labored in my corset, the swell of my breast heavy as the tightening in my chest threatened to combust my lungs.
It took all my willpower not to double over onto the cobblestone.
Mama scowled, handing me the handkerchief. “We’ll get you some herbal tea, but I need you to be careful around these ladies. They are the in of high society, and under no circumstances are we to show them any weakness.” Mama leaned in close, her stray gray hairs tickling my nose as she menacingly whispered, “They are not to know that you are sick. If they know, then it is all over.”
She pulled away, a smile replacing her scowl. “Shall we?”
