Arundel Castle - Northern Lights | Aurelian

The young man wasn't sure what to make of her grins and the sparks that flickered behind blue irises. He was aware of flirtations of course, and was fine to play the game, but she wasn't exactly subtle. Usually, it took time for girls to warm up and come around to casual flirting, but this one...

“Wild and unbroken, huh? Fortunate.”

...Fortunate? Alec's brow furrowed as he sought to make sense of the word in relation to how he had described the horse. English was a difficult language and he found the people that spoke it often used unrelated words as riddles in ways that didn't always make sense to him. Most people wouldn't find fortune in an owned horse being wild, especially Eira's type of people, or what he assumed her people were, considering the sort she hung around with.

They paid good money for these animals, and expected them to behave the way they wanted.

Alec always found the humor when they didn't.

“Do you like everything wild and untamed?”

She stepped closer, but he didn't move, following her eyes and the motions of her hands as one grasped at the pocket of his shirt. Her eyes trailed over his chest, before raising back up to his, and all he could do was watch, his heart thundering in his ears in anticipation.

She was a pretty one. Prettier than most of the girls he'd dated here and there, but Alec held no illusions that she was truly interested in him. Maybe for a quick good time, and like any hot-blooded twenty-year-old, he wasn't above his own predilections to indulge.

“Or only horses?”

His smirk widened slightly as his eyes drifted down to her lips before casting behind her to ensure no one was coming. Another quick glance between the stables in the case anyone was listening. They were alone. He assume Lady Rosalie had seen to that. Had the girls planned this?

"I like some things tamed," he answered, his hand drifting back up her arm where he fiddled with the sleeve at her shoulder. His fingers dipped beneath the hem, dropping it away to reveal soft ivory that glistened against the sunlight that filtered in. "They are easier to manage. But easier is not always better." His eyes lingered at the curve of her shoulder before drifting casually back to hers.

Alec let the fabric slip from his fingers, but made no effort to put it back into its place, "Wild things are usually more honest. They tell you very quickly when you've gotten to close." He leaned in slightly, ghosting his lips along her cheek until they tickled against her ear.

A soft whisper. "And yet you came closer." He remained for only a moment, before drawing back again, enough to look at her properly. There was amusement in his expression, his eyes twinkling with curiosity as he stared at this strange girl who seemed...all too eager to play a dangerous game. "Maybe you don't mind wild things so much either?"

Well, he’d certainly gotten the hint.

Eira kept her eyes on Alec’s face as his hand lifted to play with the lace of her sleeve, gently tugging until it slipped off. Warmth pooled in her stomach as the ghost of his fingertips played against the skin of her upper arm, heart beating in anticipation.

When his gaze returned, dark and deep and warm — the entire converse of Lev’s — she couldn’t help but smile a little wider. This was much easier than she’d thought. Alec didn’t seem to have any trouble with the bluntness of her approach, or the vast difference in their social standings. He seemed more than willing to jump at the opportunity with open arms.

Thank God. The last thing she needed was a man too stuck-up to cross invisible lines drawn by a bone-dry society. She was here for the opposite.

His lips by her ear and the whisper of his words sent a tingle down her spine, pulling a soft hum that was half giggle, stomach fluttering. She let his scent engulf her for the moment he was close, fill up her whole body and push everything else from her mind. She wanted no thoughts of anyone or anything, just herself and the feeling of lightness growing in her chest.

"Maybe you don't mind wild things so much either?” he asked after he’d pulled back, and Eira lifted a hand to lightly curl into his shirt.

“Correct,” she said, before rising to her toes and pulling him in.

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Thursday, 05 October 1922
~ 12:12 pm ~
Arundel Castle — Rosie's Bedroom

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Sighing, Eira pushed herself onto her side, head propped up in one hand.

“And then he said I should skip a meal or two; I’m getting a little round in the middle.” She rolled her eyes — hard — and reached for another cookie from the plate sitting on the bed between them. Nibby had given her a whole basket before she’d left. Naturally she hadn’t said no.

Taking a bite, Eira shook her head, a spark of anger growing in her chest. “I told him to try and stop me,” she continued, shrugging, “and then called him an asshole in Russian, but he didn’t like that much. Grabbed me around the arm and squeezed until it bruised.”

Her eyes trailed to Rosie’s face, anticipating the sheer fury sure to be visible there. “It’s gone now.” She lifted her free arm, the one not currently propping up her head, cookie held high, and shook back the sleeve of her dress to show unmarred skin. “And he embarrassed himself in front of everyone, so it was worth it.”

Smiling slightly, Eira lowered her arm.

It sure had hurt like hell all evening and the next day, too. Sleeping on that side had been practically impossible. Still, she counted it as a win. It wasn't her who had lost composure in public this time.

Amusement curled around her lips the longer she looked at Rosie, sparkling through her gaze. "You have murder in your eyes," she grinned at her friend, biting off another piece of her cookie. If she were lucky, she'd actually gain some weight and annoy the shit out of Lev that way.

It was a good enough thought to drown out the unwelcome feelings that'd crept into her head.

Chuckling, Eira added, "You know we can't do that. They just find the next worst man for me."

Rosie was fuming. Whoever Lev Zdravkova thought he was, he had a rude awakening coming the moment he crossed paths with Rosalie McCormick. The audacity of the man to say her Eira, her beautiful best friend, needed to skip a meal and imply that she was somehow flawed in figure was enough to summon ugly feelings in the normally docile and gentle girl.

Rosie wasn't a violent person by nature. She had been violent, to protect the person she loved, but under duress and extreme circumstances. She'd never sought out a fight, but she was reconsidering her morals at the moment and how good it would feel to depulso Lev right off his own high horse.

“I told him to try and stop me, and then called him an asshole in Russian, but he didn’t like that much. Grabbed me around the arm and squeezed until it bruised.”

Rosie's eyes drifted to Eira's arm when she lifted her sleeve, hot anger taking hold of her stomach. Rich, powerful men. They were all the same, weren't they? No matter how handsome they were, no matter how charming, no matter how sweet their words, they all did the same thing. They felt entitled to the women and girls in their lives, thinking they owned them like a prized horse in a stable. Something to dress up, parade around, discipline when it misbehaved and keep carefully penned in when it dared wander too far. As though fathering a girl, marrying one, or simply having the good fortune to be promised her gave a man some divine right to decide what she ate, where she went, what she said, and how much pain he was permitted to inflict when she refused to obey.

"You have murder in your eyes."

Hmm? Rosie's gaze drifted back to Eira's icy blue eyes, her expression softening when she saw her friend's amusement. She sighed, grabbing a cookie for herself and gave a slight shrug. "I'd do it. For you anyway," she grinned, biting into the treat, savoring it the way she'd never allowed herself to before...everything. She'd never eaten sweets - hell she'd barely eaten at all - but her stay at Mungo's and then time with Julia had helped Rosalie realize that some of the things that felt so monumental were really nothing in the grand picture of life.

"You know we can't do that. They just find the next worst man for me."

Rosie thought for a moment. She and Eira were as different as night and day in the way they looked at the world and their lot in life. Rosie had looked around her ostentatious life - castle, wealth, luxury, beauty - and had seen a prison. She'd suffered in forced silence beneath a roof that sought to make her as small as possible and she'd screamed and raged against the gates until they gave way. She'd chosen a different life - harder in some ways, easier in others - and had paid some of the highest prices for it.

Eira, seemed resigned to her fate, and Rosie wished she could help her understand that there was more out there if she wanted it. "Well, not if I hide you away with me," she said, only half-teasing. Her eyes glinted a bit. "Cass's theatre group has a plethora of wild boys that would fight for a chance with you. And you know they're all good looking. Actors, you know." She reached for Eira's hand as she popped the last of her cookie in her mouth.

A beat, before she continued. "You don't let him hurt you, okay? I don't care if you have to kick him in the groin. Don't let him put his hands on you again."

"I'd do it. For you anyway.”

Eira grinned. “I know you would.” And she’d do the same for Rosie, too, if she ever had to. In fact, they would likely do it together anyway. Part of her almost thought it sounded like fun, but she decided not to entertain that particular fantasy for too long; it probably was for the better. She had crossed that line already and felt no regret. Doing it for fun, however? That was a level even Eira found uncomfortable. She had seen the look Nadežda got sometimes. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.

She quickly banished the memories away.

Savouring the last of her cookie, Eira smiled with a mischievous glint as Rosie suggested she hide with her, ignoring the twinge in her chest. She understood the underlying message, the half-tease. It always sounded like an offer, but Eira knew the choice Rosie had made could never work for her. It was their most fundamental difference.

Running away, hiding, trying for a life away from family duty and order… The thought never truly lingered, not in any serious manner. The broken pieces of Rosie’s story Eira knew weren’t much, but they were enough to draw conclusions for herself, should she ever do the same. The Laurence were old and powerful, proud like any other pureblood family, and upholding the same frameworks as all of them did, the Zdravkova included. Rosie had made it out somehow, but Eira had an almost instinctual feeling, a tight knot in her guts, something that killed all ideas of freedom before they got the chance to form fully.

She didn’t think she’d survive.

"Cass's theatre group has a plethora of wild boys that would fight for a chance with you. And you know they're all good looking. Actors, you know.”

Eira pushed the thought aside, laughing instead of dwelling on useless dreams. “Maybe I’ll just watch them fight over me instead,” she mused idly, wrapping her fingers around Rosie’s hand as it reached for hers. “I think that would greatly entertain me. We can make a whole competition out of it.”

She looked around, eyes twinkling. They dimmed a little when Rosie’s voice grew serious again. It always did when they talked about her life, about Lev and marriage and family. And it always broke her heart a little.

Her hand squeezed around Rosie’s. “Promise,” she said, smiling reassuringly. Hoped to. A moment passed, threatening to grow heavy, but Eira didn’t allow it to linger.

“How’s Cass’s theatre stuff then?” she asked, latching onto the first thing she could reach. “Is it good? Actually, you should take me one time, so that I can judge it for myself. Give him some lip.” She paused to snicker. “I kind of miss it, actually.”