Lament

"I do believe, dear Olive, that you have an admirer, over near the petit fours." Victoria's soft words came from behind her fan and Olive, with tact and grace that I envied, flit her eyes to the refreshment table. There stood a tall man in a spotless cravat in his late twenties or so. He smiled cautiously to us young ladies. Olive grinned from behind her fan at Victoria and I. Almack's was just as stuffy and hot as I'd imagined. There were people everywhere - the whos who of London would not miss Wednesday nights at Almack's for anything short of Napoleon himself.

Olive giggled a girlish laugh. With chocolate curls, a porcelin complexion and large brown eyes, Olive was every inch the perfect English beauty. "Oh yes, he asked me for the next dance so I'm sure he'll be coming to collect me soon enough." Before Victoria could ask, Olive added, "he's Sir Roger Cornwallis."

"Ah, a Sir?" Victoria turned to me with a wink. "Our little Olive is being courted by a knight!" she exclaimed. I feigned a swoon that caused Olive to trill in embarrassment.

"Don't do that, I beg of you. He's not courting me, you know, he simply asked for a dance. It's just the cotillion anyway. Not the waltz." Olive then looked at me with a smirk, "not like that night at the Wainwright's masquerade when our own Faerie was swept off her feet by a certain mysterious masked man..." she sighed, "that was so romantic..."

I attempted a laugh, remembering that night so vividly. Alphonse had shown up to the masquerade, even though his father forbade him. He captured me for the waltz and directly after, we'd confessed our love to one another. It was thrilling just to think about, but thinking about it only suceeded in my heart hurting even more than it already did. "Please, he was being impertinent. I did not have permission from Lily or Charles...and I did not even know his name!" I covered, feeling a flush on my cheeks. Olive rolled her eyes - she did not believe me. Victoria just gave me a knowing look.

Sir Roger soon came to collect Olive for the cotillion and we watched them twirl off together. "They do make a handsome couple," mused Victoria as we stood away. Neither of us had partners for this dance but that mattered very little to me. I'd been dancing all night long with potential suitors, Lily's eyes on me with each dance, scrutinizing my partners, not that her opinion was very good. She'd thought Mr. Lucas Thornebrook very charming - but he'd trodden on my toes! And ye god, how he'd gone on and on about his stallions! Horses were magnificent creatures to be sure, but I cared none at all about the price of them.

"Hm, you never know, they could be the first match of the season," I answered.

Victoria huffed. "If she gets a proposal before me, I shall be positively furious!" She then slid me a sly smile, "not that I don't want her to be proposed to, honestly. She just told me that she thinks she'll get her first proposal before I do and I'm determined to prove her wrong!" And with that, Victoria nodded her head, as if to prove a point. She then turned towards me, but her eye caught sight of something in back of me. She gave a tiny gasp that she covered with her hand.

I turned around quickly to see what she had been so surprised about and felt my eyes go wide. Standing in the doorway to one of the many rooms was Wren Morgenstern and her cousin Glenn. Wren was a statuesque beauty who'd been so intimidating in the country. She wasn't the tallest woman here, by no means, but she stood with power and a back straighter than anything and her chin held high. Her hair, the darkest auburn, swept down her back in perfectly pleated waves and her simple red dress only added color to her already perfect skin. Glenn, obviously her escort, was only a few inches taller than her and was quite overweight. His face was round and sweet though and on his head was a mop of golden curls.

Glenn and I met gazes and he smiled and winked. I attempted to turn back to Victoria, but not before Wren had caught my eye. She looked at me with all the power and fury in the world. She did not forgive me for letting Prince go into Niflheim, only to be trapped. She did not forgive me that he was lying still in Criewulf Estate, deathly ill one moment and awake and alert the next. He hovered so closely between life and death, it was almost impossible to tell which side he was on.

"Oh no," I moaned to Victoria as I turned around. "I do not want to see her. She positively loathes me."

With a sigh, Victoria jutted out her bottom lip. "It's completley unfair. It's not as if she really had any control over her brother. He was bound to fall in love with you, and if she couldn't understand that, then...it's not your fault, Fae."

I remembered thinking that myself. That night, the night of the Blood Moon, I screamed that. The image burned my mind. Charles had just shot Lily. Alphonse had disappeared after him. Prince was trapped on the border between life and death. And Wren Morgenstern blamed it all on me. But it was my fault. Charles had wanted me because I looked so much like his beloved Fiona, my mother. If he had never wanted me, I never would have caused any of it...

We could talk no longer, though, because we were presently joined by Wren and Glenn. Victoria and I made our customary curtsies which were returned by our new arrivals. "Miss Landry, Miss Brighton, how...good it is to see you out and about in London," sneered Wren. She turned to me then. "I wondered if I might have a word."

I looked to Victoria to see if she could save me, but Glenn was already at her side. Taking her hand, he bowed lowly over it and smiled a simpering smile. His handsome face was enough to send Victoria into a tizzy. "Might I have this dance, Miss Landry? That is, if your card is not full. I can understand if you are already engaged-"

"No, no, I'm not. Thank you, I'd love to dance." With that, they swept off together, leaving Wren and I quite alone. I swallowed.

Turning to Wren, I squared my shoulders and channeled all of the lessons I'd been taught. "Wren, I cannot continue to apologize for what happened...that night. And I believe that the only thing we can do now is let it go, until Alphonse returns."

There was a dangerous spark in Wren's eye that I hadn't seen before. Her smile turned oddly kind and she linked elbows with me. "How about we go somewhere a little quieter. I have news to share with you." Oh no. Prince was dead, I knew it. He was dead and she was going to call for my arrest, she was going to call me as the killer. There was no escape now, either. She pulled me off behind some potted plants where we could see no one but each other. She dropped my arm. "As much as I haven't forgiven you for what happened," Wren started, "I..." her face changed into one of grudging annoyance. "I need your help."

I would not have been more surprised if she'd told me that she had forgiven me. "My help? What for?"

It was obvious that saying this was painful for Wren. She reddened. "If it is not quite obvious to you, you have an...easier time with men than I do. I have not been asked to dance, and I have talked to no one but my cousin." Wren's plaster mask came back to hide any signs that he had been hurt by the slights of men. Wren was so incredibly beautiful, it was intimidating. Besides the fact that she walked and talked as if she ruled all. It was enough, I knew, to scare off any eligible suitors. It seemed unfair that any lady who showed even the slightest sign of life could be ostracized so easily. "I digress." She leaned into me now. "I believe that during the fall, Glenn told you that there have been whispers of someone in London practicing alchemy."

"Yes, he said as much," I agreed.

Wren seemed pleased that I remembered. "These whispers have been growing louder. Someone within London's upper circle is creating homunculi. I need you to try and help me find out who."

I looked at Wren curiously. "But to make homunculi, you need the Philosopher's Stone." My tone was blunt. I remembered how it had been Charles intention to create a sort of homunculi out of mine...using Alphonse's blood to get my mother's spirit and put her inside me...to make me some sort of living doll. "And the Philosopher's Stone is chasing after his dear Papa, if you remember correctly."

Wren took a deep breath. "That's right. Which is why I believe that Charles is here somewhere. He might still have enough blood from the previous Blood Moon to create petty homunculi. Dead bodies who can walk and talk, but who have no real conscience. I think that he's here in London, helping someone create homunculi, waiting for Alphonse to find him, waiting for him...and then when Charles finds him..."

My insides turned. "He'll kill him," I finished for her.

With a nod, Wren looked out beyond the plants. When she felt it was safe, she turned back. "It was never necessary to kill the Philosopher's Stone, you saw that, Alphonse gave his blood to help Prince rescue Lily. But the Wainrights," with this, Wren smiled a feral smile, "were never a civilized group. They slaughtered their children and spilled all of their blood so they could store it." I understood this, even though hearing Wren say it made me feel cold. "Make no mistake, then. The creation of homunculi is cursed, which is why the Morgenstern family would never agree to help the Wainwrights until they threatened us with murder. They still do." Wren's eyes went dark. "The family Morgenstern is a lot of things, but murderers are not one of them. We must stop whoever is creating these."

I laughed. "And of course, you want Alphonse so he can save Prince."

Wren flushed. "Don't you want that?" Her lips then curled, "or have you forgotten all about that happened? And your beloved Alphonse. You care so little for him?"

"Why should I?" I questioned, raising my chin, "when he cares so little for me." With a cruel smile that was unlike me, I glared at Wren. "Believe me, Wren, there is more to your beloved Prince than you think. Did you never stop to think that maybe there were some things that he never told you? Some things that he decided to confide in me, instead?"

This triggered something not quite human in Wren. Her body almost writhed and I was fearfully reminded of the first nigh we'd talked, when she'd pinned me up against the wall and bade me to help her. Ah, now that I recalled, Wren never really asked for my help. She forced me to help. Wren composed herself, I knew she did not wish to make a scene, but when she looked at me, her gaze was so terrifying, I shrunk back from her. "You will never lie like that, again, do you hear me?" she asked.

Our conversation was over, I knew that. I turned away from her and then turned back. "It wasn't a lie," I told her in a soft voice and left our hiding spot quickly. She could not come after me, not hurt me. I was protected by the crush of people in Almack's. For once I was grateful that there was absolutely nowhere to move. I looked back, though, too see where she had gone. I couldn't find her. Walking carefully forward, I continued to search.

I walked right into something quite solid and realized I must have hit someone when my eyes were looking for Wren. Taking a step back, I curtsied. "Sorry, I must have not been looking where I was going," I said and looked at the person I'd hit. It was a tall man with dark hair who had, as I noticed with a flush, a very handsome face. He must been in his early twenties and when he saw me, he grinned.

"Well, even if you'd been looking forward, it's not difficult to hit someone." He then bowed. "I'm Jules Haverford," he then said with a twinkle in his eye.

I curtsied once more. "Faerie Brighton," I answered. Mr. Haverford raised an eyebrow.

"Not the poor little orphan girl who lives with her deceased guardian's wife?" he asked. Pink came to my cheeks, I knew, because Mr. Haverford laughed, "oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'd heard about you and thought it was quite interesting, your living situation," he told me.

With a smile, I gave a tiny shrug. "It is I, then. I know I must have one of the most unconventional living situations, but honestly I do not mind. Lily Wainwright is like a second mother to me," I explained. Behind us, the first few chords of the next dance started playing. Mr. Haverford noticed it too, for he turned to the orchestra once and then turned back to me with a smile.

"Well, all familial situations aside, it looks as if you do not have a partner for this dance. Would you do me the honor?" he asked, bowing over my hand.

"Yes, I would love to," I answered. Taking my arm casually, Mr. Haverford led me out to the dance floor. I noticed that a few people were looking at us with interest. Surprised, I looked at Mr. Haverford. He certainly was handsome enough and he seemed quite nice, but I didn't find anything about him that particularly stood out to me. Maybe he was important and I didn't know. Even when I'd lived in London with my mother and father, I'd been quite sheltered. I wouldn't have had any place to meet men like Jules Haverford.

Mr. Haverford and I gave each other the custom bow and curtsy and we started the dance, which was simply another line dance. Only people with permission could dance the waltz, and it was difficult to get permission from the Matrons of Almack's. Not only were they imposing ladies, they could cut a lady down with one look. I'd heard horror stories all winter of young girls who had done something wrong at Almack's and had their entire social careers ended. That was exactly the type of young girl that I did not want to be. "So, Miss Brighton, you do have something of a reputation in London," said Mr. Haverford.

"Me?" I asked, genuinely curious.

A rougish smile came over Mr. Haverford's face. "Well, besides your abnormal living situation, the talk of the winter was your rejection of Mr. Rupert Townshend."

My heart skipped in embarrassment. I'd known Rupert since infancy and it had been our father's wishes that we would be married. My father denied my hand and sent me off with Charles, but after my father died, Rupert acted all that was gentile and amiable. I had seen through his facade, however. He'd only wanted my father's money. He wanted to marry me quickly before my father's estate was given to my closest male relative. It had been a sly plot, but I'd seen through it easily. "Yes well, I do wish to be practical about my marriage proposals, but I would like to marry someone who at least has some interest in me beyond my money."

Mr. Haverford laughed. "Yes well, there are all sorts of men that would do that to young ladies. It might simply be better that now you have an allowance from your father's estate. Then you won't have fallen aristocrats trying to steal your fortune."

I shrugged. "I suppose." We were quiet then. "Now you, Mr. Haverford, do seem to be attracting a lot of looks. Would you mind telling me what that's all about?" I inquired.

"Well, I suppose it is the fact that I'm actually the new Viscount of Farnsworth. And I haven't been in London for quite some time. So all the debutantes are interested in me now."

I flushed. "You should have said that you were a Viscount, my lord."

Farnsworth - Mr. Haverford - smiled a somewhat shy smile. "Well, the whole 'my lord' thing was why I said nothing. It's easier for me to just be Jules Haverford. You see, my own father just passed away. He'd been ill for a long while, so I knew it would happen someday soon, but still. It's been difficult." Something painful flashed through his eyes. "My mother has been just a gem, though. She's a very tough lady. I wish I were more like her."

With a smile, we bowed to each other as the dance ended. "It seems to me that you're turning out just fine, Mr. Haverford." Farnsworth smiled at my use of only his name, and not my lord. I was about to say something else when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of abnormal green. I looked instantly to where I'd seen the flash, but there was no one there.

Still, an unsettling feeling was in the pit of my stomach. For a moment I could have sworn I'd just seen the Green Faerie from my dream.