Ichabod

The entrance of Crane Manor was smaller than Ichabod remembered, a true bluff of one’s youthful memories. It was still large, very large. Just slightly less than. Although the space was sparsely filled of things with mysterious cloths covering furniture (likely) and dirt (most certainly) with tracks through the dirt from their late Great Aunt (hopefully) it still pulled the cap of nostalgia over his eyes (unfortunately).

There were indeed several pieces of legacy furniture missing only obvious from the gaping unfulfilled areas they had stood for generations and they could be stashed into storage but the most likely expectation, due to the state of the home, was that they were sold off. Ichabod did not might that the furniture was missing as he had no real emotional ties to any specific piece, it was more of the social damage that was done that he was more affected by. If his great aunt sold it off, then that meant members of the ‘ton were well aware of the state of Crane Manor’s books and that was more information than he knew himself.

If Ichabod was more creative, more sly, then he could fashion a plan to keep the rumors not at bay but less. But he wasn’t creative nor sly. That was more of Cassius’s specialties. They could always turn a spoiled cloth into a swan or a dark day into a bright one. Perhaps later, they could arrange personal time to figure out how to change the perception of their family. But for now, Ichabod had to deal with the bane at the door; Brom.

The others, unable to contain their excitement, flooded into the main area and headed to see who could find what the sitting room was. Only Ichabod stayed back to accompany their visitor.

Brom side stepped quickly to avoid the ghast, which one could only really avoid bumping into the husk with its dried skin clinging to bones and not avoid keeping it in your view like a shadow in the corner of your bedroom when one is trying to sleep, who began to carry and offload their luggage. Seeing ghasts about Hudson Hollow was common but no matter how often, it still felt impossible with their lack of muscle and organs. Many of their things were sent ahead and stored in the carriage house as no one could access the manor until the signet ring summoned opened the door with its small and now entirely insignificant blood ritual. Ichabod would have to update the instructions on the ghast’s summoning scroll before it completed its list of tasks to carry the rest inside the home before he could dismiss it. And then when it turned to dust, they could salvage the House colors uniform and save it for a footman perhaps.

As if reading his mind Brom gestured towards the ghast, “If you’d like to save yourself another summoning, I can send some of my footmen and maids to assist you all moving in. Until you’re able to hire staff and get settled.”

It was a generous and kind offer, unheard of really and Ichabod bristled at having Bones staff within the manor. “I did not expect the manor to have no one, I didn’t think Great Aunt Hazel would dismiss them so.”

“She did not dismiss them,” Brom turned his back to the rest of the house and stepped closer to Ichabod to shield his voice from carrying, “They had all quite by the time she passed.”

Ichabod had nothing to say to this. Yet another strike on the Crane name. Had the employment of a founding House really not been enough to put up with Great Aunt Hazel? Apparently not.

Brom continued, “If you should find it agreeable, my sitting room is open should you like to conduct interviews there.”

Ichabod seethed and took a step back from the headless one, “Excuse me, Lord Bones, what would that be like, hmm? Me and mine, too embarrassed to even welcome staff into our home for mere interviews on employment? That is not agreeable, good sir, that is simply reprehensible!”

He hadn’t known he was shouting until Katrina lightly touched his elbow and cleared her throat, “A kind offer, Lord Bones. Please, let us think on it.” She must have followed the raised voice from down the hall for she was truly not here a moment ago.

Although he had no face to give an apprehensive glance, Brom managed to show his sincerity with a nervous shuffling of his feet. “I apologize, your home is and always has been quite beautiful, I only meant to offer a place where we could wait on you all however, I do see how I have overstepped.”

Ichabod had not quite cooled down yet and he found the presence of their visitor wearing him down. “Not a first for you, hmm?”

“Ichabod!” Although Katrina was the younger between the two, her tone was commanding and still caused Ichabod to flush with slight embarrassment. “You two used to be the best of friends, I was never told what became of you two although it was in no short of me asking. Is whatever happened so vile, so disagreeable that your manners have found homes elsewhere, Lord Crane?”

“I wish I could inform you events that led to this but I’m unsure of what to inform you on, Miss Crane.” Brom’s voice was steady, and Ichabod felt the burn of jealousy in his face that he could keep so unmoved.

“Ah-ha, a lie! How could you not remember our departure!” Ichabod’s hand flew to his neck to loosen a chastely ivory button as it became harder and hard for him to breath, “Well, let me do the honors of nudging the truth from the depths to gain air! I had always been unsure around horses and helhests although they have always been beasts of honor to the House of Bones and even more so pride of even Brom in his youth. So, after time and time again pleading to go riding with him, I finally relented. Only to be chased down and knocked over by the very helhest Brom selected for me to ride!” Ichabod shivered and whispered, “I thought my mortal coil was going to be snipped that very moment…”

Playing the diplomat well, Katrina listened as intently as when she weighed in between Rowan and Pepper’s squabbles. “And did you give him a troublesome helhests, Lord Bones?”

            “Absolutely not, I gave him my best horse…my horse. He was the best trained and my closest friend before Ichabod.” He drew his hands behind his back and although Ichabod could not directly see them, he imagined Brom was picking at the threads.

            “A horse that threw me down and drew blood!” Ichabod reinforced although he did believe Brom’s friendship with the horse, it was no secret that they were never seen without each other which is what led to Ichabod finally agreeing to ride in the first place.

“I apologized then over and over again, and I will do so until my redeathening but how was I supposed to know that the horse didn’t like to be looked at directly in the eye, Ichabod? How?” He then gestured to his lack of face and quite noticeably a lack of eyes.

Katrina took a step between the two and reached out a hand comfort Ichabod, “Even if so, brother, an accident with a horse hardly seems something to end an entire friendship with.”

Ichabod’s voice dropped to a whisper as if struggling to say what came next and he hated feeling so small. “It’s not. It’s what came after.”