Lament

By some divine providence, Glenn and I were seated next to each other at supper that evening. Wren watched us from across the table with dark eyes as I leaned into the younger man, explaining all that had passed between Jaedo and myself. But my own eyes kept darting to the head of the table, where Alphonse sat, drinking expensive red wine out of a silver goblet and chatting lazily with a young woman by his side who I had only met in passing. And even though I had already forgotten her name, I quite loathed her for being able to get Alphonse to smile the way he was. It was not the same smile as he had once given me, but it was a smile nonetheless.

So even as I watched them, I tried all I could to throw myself into the story I was telling to Glenn. I started from the first night I'd seen him at Almack's and then moved to explaining when he came to me in my room. I told him how he hadn't shown me his face, how he had kept that from me. I told Glenn about my dreams (at least, some of them, I left out the part about Prince because I felt too guilty) and how Jaedo had admitted to creating them. I said that he was helping us for 'an old friend' and how he had called me 'Princess,' but hadn't told me what I was the princess of, exactly.

At the end of this, Glenn looked concerned. "Do you believe you can trust him, this Jaedo? His curious behavior up in Huntsville, at Criewulf and at Deathcreeke...he is obviously not human."

"He must be one of the sidhe," I said. Glenn raised an eyebrow and I flushed. "Ah, it was my mother used to say. It's an irish term for faeries. The aes sidhe, or the Good People or the Fair Folk...the Irish don't ever call them faeries, which is actually sort of the reason I was named Faerie," I said, bit embarassed. It was personal information I doubted Glenn would be interested in hearing. And it seemed I was right, for he had begun to butter a roll and had popped it into his mouth as I was telling him the history of my name. He had only been half listening.

They never failed to remind me that while I would never be able to escape them, I would always be on the outside looking in when it came to the Morgensterns.

With a small sigh, I turned back to my braised pork and ate. Feeling a little defeated by Glenn's brush off and Alphonse's attentiveness to another female, I ate with little gusto. The meal seemed to go on for minute after torturous minute, but I tried to use that time productively. Instead of wallowing in my self-pity and embarassment, I looked to them I had danced with and been introduced to prior this ball. There were quite a few men here who were rumored to be in the Illuminata. And what if, at this very moment, Jules was being initiated?

For the rest of the meal, I studied each of these men, doing my best to block out any thoughts of Alphonse or Jules...both terribly confusing men with unclear intentions.

However, I couldn't escape Alphonse for long. For as soon as the ladies departed to the parlour for coffee and the men to the study for brandy, I was taken aside by a man who must have been in his twenties, for he had a days worth of stubble across his chin. He was dressed plainly but had a handsome enough face; I hadn't seen him at dinner and as he pulled me aside, I was curious as to just whom this man was. "Miss Brighton, I have been instructed by His Lordship to give you this note. You are not to speak of this to anyone else," said the man. I took the note gently as the man darted away down a dimly lit hallway. Obviously this man had Alphonse's confidence. With one last glance after him, I looked down. It was not sealed or anything, but my name was written upon it in writing that looked unfarmiliar. I didn't think I'd ever actually seen Alphonse's handwriting.

Faerie,

Please meet me in the gardens after the guests have retired for the evening. We must talk.

Alphonse

Flushing, I crumpled the note up and slipped it down my bodice. I planned to go, of course, but still, his request made my stomach turn. If we were discovered by anyone, it would be very bad indeed. I wasn't worried about Alphonse doing anything impetuous - he was a gentleman, for god's sake - still. The note concerned me. I would go, but I would be careful and I would not stay long. He would say what he needed to say and then we would be done with it.

As I sat in the parlor, however, sipping my coffee, I found myself looking at the clock quite often. Not because I felt dread of the slipping hour, but because I actually wanted the time to retire to come. I wanted to see Alphonse again. This time, it would be him and I only. It would not be us in a crowded room, dancing awkwardly. It would be us again, like those times in his room where he was beautiful and fragile. He would once again be my Alphonse. Or so I hoped. Or so I dreamed.

Finally, finally, the clock struck eleven and the ladies found themselves yawning and declaring that they felt the need to go to sleep. I knew many of these yawns were forced, for some of these women could gossip all night long if they were allowed to do so. As we all filed out of the parlor, I felt myself being held back by Wren. She looked at me down her nose, her chin raised slightly to the left. "You've been watching the clock all evening, and you've pratically been bouncing up and down in your chair. What is going on? Is there something I should know?" she asked carefully.

My stomach turned and I knew instantly that Alphonse would not want me telling Wren about this. This did not concern matters of the Philosopher's Stone, I was sure. I swallowed. "No, there is nothing," I lied, casting my eyes downward. Wren dropped my arm and headed out the room, silent. Another sigh passed through me. These days, her friendship seemed more fickle than ever.

I followed Victoria and Mrs. Landry up the stairs to our rooms on the East Wing. They said their goodnights to me and disappeared into their own room, while I went into mine. The room greatly resembled the room I'd been in at Deathcreeke, and I wondered if this was a coincidence. It was light and open, with new wallpaper. The white marble washbasin in the corner was the same as the one in Deathcreeke, and it too stood near a large window with white drapes. Off in the corner stood a grandfather clock, its face shining with new polish. I sat down quietly on my bed, not bothering to get undressed. I was a master at this waiting, now. At Deathcreeke, I had always waited for Charles and Lily to go to sleep before creeping downstairs to the North Wing to visit Alphonse.

My door was open just a crack and I could hear footsteps and see shadows just beyond, in the hall. After awhile though, the shadows lessened and the Estate fell silent. I watched the crack in my door - the lanterns were being dimmed. Just as I was about to get up to go out, though, a cool breeze blew in through my window and shut the door to my room quietly.

Looking back, I realized my window was open. It wasn't like that a moment ago, I thought, a sliver of fear piercing my stomach. There was nothing in my room though. But when I looked out the window, I thought I saw a flash of green among the darkness. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to my door, opened it and slipped out.

This was so familiar, the only difference was the layout of the house. Within a matter of minutes I had crept soundlessly down the stairs and out the front doors, a triumphant smile playing across my lips. The smile vanished, however, as I neared the gardens.

Alphonse carried with him a lantern, and he stood in the middle of the gardens; I could see him easily. Exhaling a deep breath, I plunged forward down the spiraling labrynth the gardens made, to Alphonse, my once love, now...who knew. He turned as I came and as soon as the light caught his face, I had to stop walking, for it was as if I couldn't breathe.

He looked the same as always, as if the past week he had been back was nothing. His face held that uncertainty, that innocent fear, that perfect quiet beauty. He was not strong, he was no Earl. He was the small, sickly boy who had been confined in the white room to play his white violin until his eighteenth birthday. He was no man. In those moments, it was as if all those months had been erased and we really were standing back in his room. He must have felt it too, for his dark eyes flickered. They were full of emotion, I could tell, but of what, I didn't exactly know. All I knew was that I wanted to run to him, my heart ached to do it, but my head kept my feet planted firmly on the ground. It was he who took the first step towards me.

"Lily...mother..." he didn't say the word mother, instead, he choked it out, "Mother didn't come with you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "It was too much for her to bear, I think."

Alphonse looked away, but I saw the shame painted over his face. I took a step towards him, and while he didn't physically move, it was as if he'd flinched, as if I'd struck him. He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly and finally looked my way again. "I'm having her...protected while she's in London. Both of you, actually. While we all reside there, I'm having someone look after you."

Jaedo's words came back to me. Let's say I'm doing this for an old friend, he'd said. "Jaedo?" I asked.

"Who?" questioned Alphonse. I shook my head. Never mind. What a silly guess. When would they have met each other? Of course, Jaedo did know Alphonse...he could have just as easily shown up in his room, the way he'd shown up in mine. "No, it's someone I hired. A man who won't let any hard come to you."

I cracked a smile. "Seems a bit extreme...why?"

Struggling with an answer, Alphonse turned to his plants. In the dim light of the lantern, I saw we were surrounded by bush after bush of blooming Rosa rugosa. "This conversation right now is dangerous. I should be out of your life at all cost. I shouldn't have invited you but I wanted to keep you close to me while I was out of London. It is...an obstacle that Lily didn't join you, but as soon as I realized she wasn't with you, I instantly had another man go back to look after her."

"Alphonse," I said and he looked at me, his face lit up in a sort of amazed, sort of ecstatic smile. As if he didn't think he'd ever hear me say his name again. Embarassed, I blushed. "Alphonse, you're not making any sense. Could you please explain to me what's going on? Why you were gone for so long? Why you decided to come back now? Why you didn't tell me you'd returned? Why you're suddenly an Earl with a different last name? Why you're having Lily and I watched? I don't understand..." my voice cracked. "You are changed," I struggled to say.

"Now is not the time for much explanation...but the reason I am here is the same reason I left."

My heart seemed to drop into my stomach. "You came to London in search of Charles." It was not a question, and my voice was flat. He had not come back for me. It was as if I'd always known this, but hearing him say so was like putting a knife into my chest. The pain was real, it was raw.

Alphonse faltered. "Yes, but...yes..." he sighed. "I came back because there are rumors that Charles in London, and that he is trying to create homunculi."

"So I've heard."

"But it was a sliver of a tiny rumor I heard and I jumped on it...because I...had to come here..." I tilted my head to Alphonse running an exasperated hand through his hair. "Oh Faerie, what would you have me say? I cannot tell you that I came here because I gave up my quest for Charles. How could I have? It has guided my life since the moment I left. Don't you see though, don't you see? I left because of what Charles tried to do to my mother, what Charles tried to do you..."

I lifted my chin fully. "You did not come back for me. I understand completely."

A guttural sound came from Alphonse's throat - a sort of combination of a growl and a groan. "Faerie, you do not understand, all I have done, I have done for you, for our future life together!" he said. A part of me lifted in elation - our future life together, as if it really did exist, as if one day we really would end up living happily ever after at this Estate, raising our children, passing on the secrets of the Wainwrights down to them...but most of me knew this wasn't true and could never happen. My pratical side squashed the romantic in me and I looked at Alphonse with hard eyes.

"No Alphonse. All you have done, you have done because you feel some sense of justice, some sense of self-righteousness. You truly believe that you must go after your father. You have done it neither for me nor your mother. You went after him because after all that he did for you, after all he protected you, he betrayed you. And I understand. When I found out my mother had betrayed my trust, I wanted to curse her name, but I didn't. We are looking for Charles now. Give up this stupid quest to regain whatever it is you think he took from you and just live your life!"

"I left that god fosaken house, ONCE!" cried Alphonse, and something that had been hidden in the underbrush scampered away with tiny footsteps. Alphonse swallowed and collected himself. "He stole my childhood from me, Faerie, he stole my life. I have been all around the world and I have seen so many things...it has only fueled my hatred for the man. He kept me from everything, he tucked me away in shame. He almost tried to take me from you, my one true happiness in all my eighteen years." Shaking his head, Alphonse looked at me. "How can you simply tell me to give up and move on?"

I sighed a long sigh and before I could do anything, the watery truth was spilling from my lips. "Because I love you, Alphonse. And because I miss you. I want you to give up, move on, and come back to me." I could hear the tears in my voice and feel them behind my eyes. "But I know that you won't ever be able to do that. Until you let go of your hatred you cannot let in love. So I will be the one who moves on."

Alphonse looked completely taken aback. His demeanor, before so angry and so proud, cracked. He once again looked small and guilty. He took the few steps to me and took my face in his free hand. "Faerie-"

"I have met a kind young gentleman who is everything I should desire. And although I do not feel for him what I feel for you...when the time comes and he asks for my hand in marriage...I shall accept him."

"No, Faerie, don't, wait for me-"

"I cannot." My voice lay flat and I shook my head out of his grasp. Turning around, I made my way out of the gardens and quietly back into the house. Alphonse did not follow. My heart was so heavy, it seemed as if I was dragging it behind me. I knew what I had spoken was the truth. I could wait for him no longer, I could love him no longer. I had waited for him for so long and he had been out, feeling only rage and hatred in his heart. I had been there, looking out the window, watching for every passing carriage, my heart jumping if one looked familiar. That I could do no longer. I must give up this fight for Alphonse and understand that he would never love me while he hated his father so much.

I looked up the stairs and saw a dark figure at the top. I knew who it was before I even started up the stairs. And when I passed Wren, I ignored her.

"I hope you're not letting your feelings for Alphonse get in the way of what needs to be done," she said quietly.

Finally, I turned back. "Believe me, Wren, I'm not." With that, I let myself into my room and closed the door slowly. It creaked all the way but clicked into place with the same kind of heaviness that I carried in my own body. I undressed myself with slow precision but did not crawl into bed. Instead, I sat on the edge and folded my arms on my lap. I looked to the small, continous fire that crackled in the hearth and let my head fall down between my shoulders.

It was then that I knew. Today, my heart retired.