Veiled

The cobbled back streets were only dimly lit by the soft glow of the settling evening, and I hurried, my pale fingers holding the front of my turquoise dress up to avoid dirt, for this was no place for a lady to be found. Not just a lady. One of the wealthiest, most known and respected, Victorian ladies of London. Daughter to Sir Luvvet. I was Marie Clara Elizabeth Luvvet.
I glanced hastily over my shoulder all though there was no real need for it, I would of sensed any one. But it was sheer instinct and anxiety.
The night was damp and the same bitter smells were swimming and curling in the air like snakes. Blackened soot lined the creases and gaps of the sides of the high walls and my nose creased in distaste.
But I had to take this detour, a place where I would never even dream of setting foot in. My hat was low over my diamond bright, alert eyes, casting a darkened shadow over my face. I pulled my scarf tighter round my shoulders against the frivolous chill, but it's organza and lace did nothing.
I had to come along here.
I had to see her.
A scowl set deep and curled in my face, a scowl most people would see for loathing and confusion. Something bubbled in my chest and my numb hands tightened to fists.
The first time I saw her was by a market school, she was working, carry loads of apples in those delicate, under fed arms. I remember seeing that pretty pale face with the blushed cheeks, petals of a rose. Her dark brown hair falling in loose curls, deep emerald eyes set like jewels in her soft skin. Those ruby lips, the slight freckles that dotted her high cheek bones. Oh it burned me how someone so worthless and dirty could look like that. Complete scum with no future. The few people who know her say she's kind hearted and sweet. But that will get you nowhere in life.
I asked a lot of people that day who she was and where I could find her. The pretty little girl, a china doll.
Probably the same age as me.
I had arrived. I felt ice trickle through my veins at the sight of the place. My tongue pressed against the inside of my sharp teeth. At the end of the road was an opening, a strong smell of illness over took my senses, not unknown here. I knew I was in no danger, I would never acquire human infections.
Each living space was quartered off by faded sheets strung up above. There must have been four or five families. Babies waling, sick parents clutching the dirty, hard working hands of their tender children. I closed my eyes and found her with my mind. Her.
Instantly people turned to stare at me, some even bowed their head which made me laugh cruelly and coldly. I sneered at these stupid life forms. Holding my dress even higher, but not enough to show too much leg, I went gracefully over to the family in the far left corner. They sat in dirt. The girl instantly looked up to me, dressed in dull scratchy colours. Her eyes widened.
“You.” my voice was high and sharp, making her wince. “I need to speak to you.” I turned on my heels for her to follow, hoping she wasn't scared off by the fierce glance in my eye, or the bright, rich clothing.
She paused first, I knew without turning my head. Muttered something to who she was, which wouldn't be her family. She was an orphan girl, lucky to not belong to an orphanage. She's a slave girl I think. Then scuttled over to me. I could sense her trying to see my mind frame but I blocked her out, followed by her knowledge of the sly smile that painted my lips. I waited till we descended into the bruised purple of the shadows where I turned to her and walked closer so her bony back hit the cold surface of the wall. She took a deep breath and I wondered if she, like me, immediately knew it.
The connection.
“DO you know what you are?” I asked sternly, my eyes sliding over her grim face. She shivered.
“I – I don't know what you -” but I cut her off in hysterics.
“Don't you dare try and fool me.” I snarled at her and she tried to push herself further back into the wall so her shoulder blades grated against the rough surface through her thin clothing. She took a deep breath and straightened up.
I gave her a small there's-something-about-you smile, only a tiny one, on my pale lips. She stared me squarely in the face, her deep eyes burrowing into mine.
“Your trying to make me feel threatened.” she stated, it wasn't a question. She took a step forward but I stood my ground. She was a bit shorter than me. “If you have information I need, then tell me.”
“Oh no girl. It doesn't work like that you see. Because I can't risk silly little girls like you knowing this knowledge. I use it to my advantage that no one knows, and now I have everything. I know you'd do anything for that, including telling my father. What you don't see, is the fact it would get us both killed. So stay away, understand?” I hissed, going to walk away.
“My mother used to tell me stories.” she cried, startled at my sudden get away. I stopped in my tracks, and with my back still to her , listened.
“She said that when I was of age she'd tell me what I was, I knew I was different. They died. All my family. But she used to tell me of this little silver box she had, with green jewels on - like her eyes. The only valuable possession we owned. Do you know what was in that box?” she asked me. I let my head tilt down to the floor, dismissing the question.
“Secrets.” she let the word roll off her tongue, tasted it as if it was some divine meal. “Of what me and you are. Secrets you probably don't know. Secrets that could make me bigger and better and more powerful than you. I don't know what form they are in. Mother said it was magic. I can find that box.”
“That box belonged to your mother?” I breathed, turning round to glare at her. She took a step forward, pulling her back higher.
“But I am willing to share those secrets with you.” she said kindly. Trying to reach out to me through those beautiful, huge eyes. “Together we can be safe, and I have many skills. I could look after you and provide you what your used to -” I waved my hand through the air. Snapping her kindness off with a jerky movement and shaking my shoulders. I tried to steady my breathing, which now became a choir in corsets so tight.
“Even if you find that box. You won't be able to open it. Your right, it is magic. It's bound with magic as in it can only be opened with the key. I don't know how your mother got that box. Or how she even knew what you were – but your symbol is he emerald. Mine is the sapphire. If you get it, you can bash it and melt it do what you like. Nothing will open it. And I can ensure you. You will not find the gold, sapphire encrusted, key. So I wouldn't waste your time. I don't want that box to ever be opened. There is also great bad with it.” she stumbled forward, tears swimming in her soulful eyes.
“You have it? The key?” she trembled, her voice wispy and lost in the air.
I snorted.
“Don't be silly.” I smirked, turned on my heels. Swiftly, I walked away.

My fist tightly round a gold key on a chain which always remains under my top and over my heart.