Evie

Since Mr. Livingston announced a week ago he’d be hosting a dance at Silvertree hall, that’s all anyone has talked about. Everyone’s been in a flurry to prepare Yelena for the big event, and so I’ve once again been left to myself. I’m glad for this, as it’s given me ample time to prepare my new home in the mountain.

Buying up tools and supplies a little at a time, I’ve been able to lay a good foundation for myself when I move in. The floor is all packed and prepared, and the bed is ready with blankets, I’ve even had a chance to test out my cook pot with a stew made of mushrooms and vegetables I foraged myself. I’ve woven a sturdy door with saplings and daubed it with chinking made of clay, grass and manure, camouflaging the outside so it looks like plain grassy turf, so that even if someone does come looking for me, they’d never guess what’s hiding behind it.

With this everything’s right on track, and I’ll be able to start foraging and preparing winter stores right away. I’m looking forward to the challenge of surviving on my own, and I’m looking forward even more to being out of this house and rid of my awful family once and for all. Really, there isn’t one thing from this old life of mine that I will regret leaving behind. Except, perhaps for…

With a faint pang, I look down at my new, sturdy and simple brown shoes as the coach carrying us to Mr. Livingston’s home rocks noisily back and forth. My fingers curl more tightly around the paper parcel in my lap containing Gil’s coat.

We’ve only met a few times, but his kindness has meant more to me than I could ever put into words. If possible, I would have liked to get to know him a little better. But I guess there’s no helping that now.

I’ve made all my preparations to leave the house tonight after the dance. Everything’s already packed and ready to go. The only reason I haven’t left yet is because I still need to return that man’s coat. And… because I wanted to see him one last time…

Yelena sits across from me in the carriage, looking positively angelic in her powder blue gown. Her long hair is arranged fashionably atop her head, and in her ears and around her neck, sapphire jewels glitter in the light of sunset. I heard Maddie say the new jewels were a gift from father, as were the gown and the white dancing slippers she’s wearing. He’s spared no expense in dolling her up for this event, I see. Meanwhile I attend in the same slate gray dress I wore to the May Day festival. If not for Gil’s present, I’d be wearing my old shoes, too.

I try not to think about how plain I look as we draw up to the grand Silvertree manor and make our way out of the carriage one at a time. Stepmother pushes past me as though I were a servant, walking right up to the front door with Yelena and Father walking arm in arm just behind her. I can see those three have already made themselves quite at home, I think as I follow timidly after them, still clutching Gil’s package.

Though the Stuart house is by no means small, I am astounded by the grandness and finery of Silvertree hall. With this I feel I’ve been given just a glimpse into the vastness of Alexander Livingston’s fortune, and all the wealth my sister may soon marry into.

Not that it’s anything to do with me, I think, tucking myself against the wall of the grand ballroom to observe, tapping my toe slightly to the beat of a merry country tune.

I wonder if Gil will be here tonight. Until now, I hadn’t really considered the possibility he wouldn’t attend, but being part of Mr. Livingston’s security, I wonder if he’ll be too busy to share a dance with me. The thought has me feeling a little down when a figure appears suddenly at my elbow. I turn with a thrill of excitement to see the very man I’d been thinking of at my side.

He looks as plain as I do, dressed in that same dark, active style I’ve seen him in until now, though for a change there’s no sword on his belt. He hasn’t bothered to fix his hair, though I do notice he’s clean shaven. I observe that without the scruffy growth of beard to cover his wickedly pointed chin, he’s somehow managed to look even more evil tonight than usual.

“Here you are, Funny Face.”

“Good evening.”

“I thought you’d look more like a woman tonight, all dressed up. But you’re the same as always.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I say dryly, wondering for a moment what I even see in this guy who seems to enjoy picking on me so much. “You aren’t looking too pretty yourself.”

“Hoi, that’s not fair, I shaved for you.”

He makes my heart flutter so easily, I think, looking away quickly before he can see me blush.

“What’s with the package?” he asks me.

“Oh. This is yours,” I press it to him a little awkwardly. “Your coat.”

Do I imagine it, or does Gil look just a little disappointed? “I said you didn’t have to bring it. Now I’ll have to think of another excuse to come visit you.”

Even if you do come, it’s not like I’ll be there to greet you…

Over this last week while I prepared my home, whenever I thought I’d never see this man again, I’d get this strange sense of loneliness spreading through my breast. Now it hits me ten times harder as I stand beside him, knowing these may be some of the last words we ever exchange. Suddenly it hurts so much, I think I might cry.

Fortunately Gil does not notice. He’s looking out at the colorful dancers with a peculiar sort of frown on his face. I’m wondering what he’s looking at when Alexander steps into view with Yelena on his arm. They stop in front of us, all smiles, with his being genuine, I think. Yelena’s on the other hand…

“There you are, Gilbert. And Miss Stuart,” Alexander startles me by coming through the crowd to bow to me formally. “Allow me to make my sincerest apologies for the ordeal I put you through two weeks ago. I heard it gave you quite a shock, so that you even missed a step on the stairs and took a bad fall. I’ve come by several times to apologize, but I understand you’ve been out recuperating.”

I look a bit questioningly to my sister. I had heard Mr. Livingston was coming by frequently, but this is the first time I’m hearing it was to see me. Though of course I’m sure he wasn’t disappointed to spend the time with Yelena, even so—

“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Livingston. I’m recovered now, as you can see.”

“That’s a relief, and please—you must call me Alexander, or Alex, if you like,” he smiles at me, and his sky blue eyes reflect only friendliness and sincerity. Though I know very little of this man and even felt suspicious of him at first, I am inclined now to think favorably of anyone Gil associates with. Alexander seems like a genuinely good person, a man who’s very open and sincere, and I can’t help but feel someone ought to warn him what he’s getting into by falling for Yelena. Then, I imagine she’s already got him wrapped around her finger just like Father, and he’ll only be incensed if I try to tell him what she’s really like. 

I decide I’ll leave the matter be. It’s really not my business. Besides, if Yelena has any sense at all, she’ll keep that part of herself carefully hidden from Alexander for the rest of her life, or risk losing her cushy place as wife to one of the wealthiest men in the country. That is, assuming the two of them get together.

“I see you’re with my old friend Gilbert tonight,” he remarks. “It makes me happy to see him enjoying himself at an event like this. Usually he’s so grim, it’s not just anyone that can get a smile out of him.”

“Your friend?” I look between the two men. “But I was under the impression, that is—” to Gil, I say, “Aren’t you his bodyguard?”

“Bodyguard? Now there’s one I haven’t heard in ages,” Alexander laughs.

“What do you mean?”

“That was the nickname they gave him in our early days in the army together. We were inseparable back in the day, and with Gil’s manner and my background, well, people just assumed he was my bodyguard. But this scary looking fellow is no one’s hireling. In fact, you’ll be surprised to learn he’s—”

“That’s enough, Alex,” Gil cuts him off with a mean sort of grin. “Haven’t you got a foxtrot or something to do with your fancy lady? Buzz off, will you?”

“That’s a waltz they’re playing now, but alright, point taken,” Alexander answers, twinkling in amusement at some unspoken joke that Gil doesn’t seem to find as funny. To me, he says, “You’ll take good care of him tonight, won’t you Miss Stuart? Gil really isn’t good in these social settings.”

“Neither am I,” I answer truthfully, and Alexander laughs openly.

“You’re so alike,” Yelena enters the conversation as she slips her hand back in Alexander’s arm. “Really, looking at the two of you, one would say you rather deserve each other.”

She means it as a thinly veiled insult; I know that, though Alexander suspects nothing. She means to say we’re both poorly dressed tonight, that we don’t fit in at all, and I know I should be seething with her insult. But the truth is, I’m a little elated.

We suit each other? Gil and I? Why does that make me… kind of happy?