A New Beginning
2
“Jordan, have you got everything? The carriage is about to leave!” Tobias Carter calls out from the bottom of the grand staircase up to his son. His voice resonances through the hollow rooms of the manor.
Jordan looks around his empty quarters, sighing a little to himself. This place has been his family’s home for the last fourteen years. The memories of his family cling to him as his eyes roam over the bare timber floor. Glancing around to where his bed used to sit pushed up into the corner, now void. The towering wall of bookshelves once filled to the brim with novels is now empty, collecting nothing but dust. Artworks that were hung now leave a faint outline on the wallpaper, showing where they used to sit.
Peering out of the large arch window below to where the carriage sits, Jordan watches his mother and sister climb inside as his father waits for Jordan to join them.
Taking in the scenery one last time with the majestic Oxford University standing out in the distance, its sandstone Gothic spires piercing through greying clouds and disappearing from view. Wisps of bronzes and golds blanket the landscape and colour the trees beyond their estate as autumn settles in the air. The terracotta roofs of homes blending into the rust-coloured season.
Jordan is ready to leave this place behind. The last time he was in London, he was barely five years old. He doesn’t remember much of it .
The oil painting that his parents hung in the dining room is the one place Jordan remembers seeing. Mayfair . A street lined with brick townhouses and gilded carriages. He always stares at the painting whenever he’s in there eating, adoring the architecture and bustle of the city.
“Jordan!” Tobias shouts again, this time louder and sharper, from the floor below. His voice echoes throughout the empty house.
“Coming!” Jordan yells back to his father, grabbing a hold of his last bag. Descending the grand staircase for the last time, he looks around the bare drawing room. Once filled with laughter and warmth, it’s now silent and cold, as if they never lived here.
Brisk autumn scents hit Jordan’s nose as he steps outside the entryway. Perishing leaves, muddy soil and cinnamon. He wonders what London will smell like, whether it will also have the distinct scent of seasons, or if it will always smell of a smoky, crammed, damp city.
He tosses his leather strapped bag into the back of the coach before climbing into the airy carriage where his little sister, Valarie, sits eagerly with a book in her hand. The Game of Love and Chance by Pierre de Marivaux has always been her favourite play to read. Tobias has repaired that book so many times, Jordan wonders how Valarie is still able to read it.
Sliding onto the cream upholstered bench seat beside her, Tobias sits down opposite Jordan, slamming the door shut and the driver uses that as his signal to leave.
Pulling away from the manor, Jordan takes one last look before the manor disappears behind the line of tall birch trees bordering the gravel street. Burnt leaves hanging off the branches and floating down to the ground effortlessly like flakes of dust.
The trip from Oxford to London will take a few hours. Valarie, of course, bought a book along to read-she’s rarely seen without one in her hands. She adores reading any Mortal book on love and friendship.
Jordan had every intention of sleeping the entire ride, avoiding bland, forced conversations with his family. His eyes close lightly, leaning his head against his hand, hoping to catch some rest, but that dream ends almost instantly.
“How do you both feel about moving back to London?” Josephine asks her children.
Jordan opens one eye before groaning and sitting up again to give her his attention. Their mother sits happily with her hands tucked in her lap. She has the sort of smile that makes everyone happy. It’s inviting and soft, much like her personality.
Valarie peers up from her book with a massive grin, golden-red hair curled down her shoulders. “I have a feeling this is going to be magical. And I do miss Daisy and Alice,” She squeals in excitement, “Hazel Stuurman told me that the London Ascendancy is absolutely remarkable. Do you think their library is bigger than the one in Oxford?”
“Oh, it is most definitely bigger.” Josephine chimes and Valarie’s grin widens so much her teeth are all on display.
Jordan glances sideways at his sister’s youthful face, lit with enthusiasm and anticipation. Freckles dotting her forehead and button nose lightly like tiny painted spots, her cheeks flushed pink with eagerness. Deep, gleaming sapphire eyes like gemstones.
His mother looks from Valarie to him for a response. “It will be nice to see Matthew and Lewis again,” Jordan mutters.
Josephine gives him a small, encouraging smile. “I am sure they miss you as well, dear. I know Oxford was quiet for the two of you, but you will make so many friends in London.” Reassuring both of them. “You both know I grew up in Southampton, which was rather small when I was young. Your grandfather moved us to London when I was a child, and it was the best thing for us. That is where I met your father as well.”
Tobias gives a small wink to Josephine, whose cheeks widen in response. “Now that is a story.” His masculine voice booms through a chuckle, his hand coming over to cover Josephine’s in her lap and squeezing gently .
“Do tell us!” Valarie squeals again and Jordan allows his head to fall back against the leather seat, rolling his turquoise eyes. His light blonde hair waving gently in the breeze gliding through the window left ajar. He’s heard this story repeated too many times. So has Valarie, but she is a hopeless romantic, unlike him.
Tobias laughs a little more before clearing his throat, “Well. It all started in the street one night when your mother and her best friend, Tessa, were stuck in the middle of an Infernal attack. I still remember seeing Josephine for the first time at the ball. I was too afraid to approach such a beautiful-looking girl. Tessa tried to convince me to talk with her, but I didn’t have the guts to,” he pauses, his pale blue eyes flicking to Josephine’s stormy grey ones momentarily before continuing smugly, “so when Stefan and I saw them under attack, we thought we should come and rescue them both. I ran into the attack just in time to save your mother from being sliced in half-”
His voice rises dramatically as Josephine cuts him off, “It was not in half . Don’t exaggerate Tobias. I was perfectly fine handling the situation myself before you swooped in.” She says with a giggle in her voice that causes Jordan’s spine to shiver uncomfortably. He’s never heard that sound escape his mother before, and he’s not sure he’s fond of it.
Tobias gives her a playful look while adding proudly, “Well, she was about to be poisoned by Infernal essence, so I saved her with my blade.”
Valarie covers her mouth with her hands as she listens intently to his recount, completely enthralled. “And then what?”
Jordan can’t help but groan with boredom.
“Stefan and I killed the rest of the Infernals, and your mother and Tessa were so grateful. I remember she kissed my cheek as a thank you, and that is where it all began.”
Valarie gasps with a grin. “That is so romantic.”
“A little too romantic for my liking…” Jordan murmurs sourly .
Josephine and Tobias both glare at their son while Valarie gushes over her parents. “That is a beautiful story. And stop it, Jordan. You just don’t find it romantic because you have no feelings in that icy heart of yours.” Valarie gives him a hard look. “You just haven’t met the right girl yet.”
“Ugh.” Jordan groans louder this time and closes his eyes, resting his head against the upholstery and praying to the Angels he can get some sleep.
He doesn’t want to have this conversation with them again.
Jordan hears on a weekly basis how he’s at the age of finding a girl to wed, but he’s never found any girl intriguing enough for him to court. Oxford also didn’t have a wide selection to choose from, which didn’t help. Every eligible girl seemed annoying to him, gushing over Jordan because of his family’s status and handsome looks, never wanting to know who Jordan really was at his core.
It’s not as though he detests love. It’s that no girl has interested him before.
The three-hour ride seems to drag on, with Jordan just nodding off, only to be woken immediately by a bump in the road or his parents speaking. They seem to be talking about anything and everything, making Jordan more irritated by the minute.
Smaller houses begin to appear on either side of the glass. Valarie presses her nose against the window, her soft lips separating in awe.
Jordan glances at the white and brown cottages lining the road. Small, tended gardens decorate the fronts, and chimneys puff light grey smoke lazily into the air. Children play out in the street and adults promenade together as their coach rolls by.
Each street they turn down, the manors begin to grow larger and more extravagant the closer they near the heart of the city.
Jordan immediately notices how many more people and carriages there are in London. The city is alive with life and energy. Sounds of yelling and laughter resonate along the road as they pause in traffic. Full, gorgeous trees sprinkled with falling leaves shading them from the gloomy weather.
Passing St. James Park, hazy sunlight streams in through the sparing branches as children play with balls and hoops underneath. Crunchy leaves blanket the ground. A large still lake sits in the middle, and weathered statues of past Mortal royalty decorate the area.
Coming to a halt out the front of a large two-storey regency style manor, Valarie audibly gasps next to her brother as she takes in the sight of their new home. Jordan catches out the side of his eye his parents sharing a pleased smile, which settles something inside his chest.
The front garden is lush and symmetrical, with a five-foot high hedge and tall wrought-iron gates guarding the front. A small stone fountain constructed in the centre of the path leading to tall black painted doors at the entrance. Two full birch trees blooming rust coloured foliage, reminding Jordan of the ones back in Oxford.
The house itself is grand. Large bow windows along the bottom and sash windows above peer out onto the busy street. White bricks matching the rest of the manors lining the road, with thick ivy vines spidering up the walls. Windowsills filled with plants holding the last few flowers of autumn.
Valarie jumps down from the carriage as soon as it comes to a stop, not wanting to be contained for a second longer than she needs to be.
Jordan follows her out, taking in the size of the manor as Valarie disappears through the doors.
Dark-stained interior greets Jordan as he strolls in. Dove grey and white striped wallpaper, subtle and light against the deep washed flooring and furniture. Two grand staircases encircling the atrium, curving around the walls and meeting at the second-floor landing. A large silver chandelier hangs down, scattering gleaming light around in fragments. Scents of vanilla and linen linger in the air .
Staff are already wandering around the manor, making sure their belongings are all settled, and the place is looking presentable for their arrival.
Rosa has been a maid for the Carter family since she was fourteen years of age. A sweet younger lady, small and thin, with short brown hair that flicks around her neck and dark grey eyes resembling coal. She’s always been Jordan’s favourite, reading him and Valarie bedtime stories each evening when they were young-some of the supernatural world, others of trivial human nonsense-which they all found quite amusing.
Rosa has the Mark of a Spellcaster, but she herself has never had the power to create magic. Jordan felt sorry for her when he discovered her reasoning for working for his family, but she’s never seemed upset by the fact that she’s magicless. Most Seraphim staff are like this – Marked but magicless. It allows them to be themselves, not having to worry what Mortals might think of their habits.
She’s currently fluffing a cushion on one of the light blue armchairs in the parlour when she spots the family’s arrival. Rushing over, she gushes out excitedly, “Welcome to your new home, Mr. and Mrs. Carter. Dare I say it is exquisite.”
“Thank you, Rosa. It looks lovely in here. Have you chosen your quarters yet?” Josephine asks as Rosa gives her a small curtsy. She’s already dressed in her simple grey dress and polished boots she always wears in their presence. A white apron tied around her waist and neck.
“Yes, Ma’am, I will be in the east wing along with the other staff. I do believe your children are old enough now that they no longer need me close by anymore.” She grins warmly towards Valarie and Jordan.
Josephine pulls Rosa into an embrace as she always does. “We are so glad you could move with us. We greatly appreciate your work. You’re a part of the family now that you’ve been working with us for so long. ”
Rosa’s charcoal eyes shine in response. She flattens the material of her apron, clearly blinking away tears. Clearing her throat, she proposes, “Shall I make you some tea then, to get you all settled?”
“That would be delightful, Rosa. I shall help you in the kitchen. I would love to inspect it and see where I can place my porcelain teacup collection.” Josephine accompanies Rosa out of the room, their familiar voices trailing off down the hallway.
Taking their belongings up to the second floor, Jordan finds that his quarters have been already arranged to match his in Oxford. It’s easily twice the size and painted a gentle blue shade to match the rest of the manor’s interior. A large bed fluffed with more pillows than necessary for one person, shelves lining an entire wall filled with his beloved books, a small fireplace decorated with white tiles, and his own private washroom.
Jordan crosses to peer out of the open window which overlooks the front garden beneath. It really is magical in London. Trees swaying gently in the breeze and birds singing joyfully. The street is bustling with life and people. Black handsome carriages roll down slowly, with the pleasant sound of horses’ hooves trotting rhythmically.
Turning back to his room, Jordan begins placing his mementos away in their carefully thought-out places. A few of the items have real value to him, like his grandfather’s ring-which he likes to wear on special occasions, his favourite dagger and a history book on Archangels his father handed down to him when he turned of suitable age. Most of the other keepsakes are from his travels or gifts.
A knock on the front door echoes through the quiet manor and he hears his father greeting the visitor. Standing silently, he hears Tobias calling out for him to come downstairs.
Dropping the small glass globe in his hand onto the soft covers of his bed, he reaches the bottom of the staircase to see two men standing in the doorway. One roughly his age, and the other older, presumably the boy’s father .
The elder one holds his hand out for Jordan to shake. When he does, the man’s hot palm comes to cover his, locking him into an awkwardly extended handshake. “Finally, I get to see you again, Jordan. Believe it or not, your father and I have known each other our whole lives. I am pleased to have you all here in London. We have certainly missed seeing the Carter’s in the city.”
The corners of Jordan’s mouth twitch as he waits for the man to continue. “I do apologise. I am Robert Bladesmith, leader of the London Ascendancy. I believe I forgot to introduce myself. And this is my son, Charles, whom you may remember from when you were younger.”
Jordan’s eyes settle on the boy standing beside Robert. He’s slightly shorter than Jordan, and smaller in shape. Raven black hair smoothly combed backwards on his head, standing out against his pale skin. A pair of dull olive-green eyes meet his own.
“Welcome.” Charles says in a rough voice, which is neither warm nor welcoming.
“Nice to meet you both again.” And Robert finally drops Jordan’s hand.
Tobias cuts in, and Jordan silently thanks his father. He doesn’t need to try to carry the awkward introductions anymore. “Did you come all the way from the Ascendancy just to greet us?” his father asks in a humorous tone.
Robert pats him on the shoulder with a grin. “I have to greet my right-hand-man when he returns after so many years away. Also, I thought I would extend an invitation for you and your family to attend our soiree tomorrow night held at our estate. I could have sent a runner, but I thought I ought to invite you in person.”
“I thought I recognised that voice,” Josephine appears in the corridor, wiping her hands on the apron covering her skirt, “lovely to see you again, Robert.” She pulls him into an embrace before turning to Charles and giving him a big enough smile, it makes her nose crinkle. “The last time I saw you, Charles, you were only a small child, and now look at you.”
“Delightful to meet you both again. You have chosen a splendid home, and you must come to our gathering tomorrow night. It will be the first event of the winter season.” Charles’ voice is overly hospitable, sounding fake enough to make Jordan feel queasy.
“That sounds wonderful. We shall be there, Robert.” Josephine reassures him.
“Well, isn’t that delightful! I am glad you are back in the city, Jose.” His gaze flicking between the two of them. “Might we have a word in private, Tobias?” he asks, indicating at the drawing room behind them.
“Certainly. After you, Robert.” Tobias moves aside and follows his friend, who closes the doors behind them for privacy.
Josephine makes a small, pleasant noise before turning to the boys. “Charles, would you like something to drink while you wait for your father?” she offers to him. “Rosa just made some peach tea.”
“I am fine, Mrs Carter, but thank you,” Charles says with a tight grin.
Josephine gives him a gentle smile before wandering back into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone in the manor’s atrium.
Jordan takes the time to observe Charles, who’s glancing at everything except for him. His gaze dart around, silently critiquing his parent’s choice of furnishings and colour palette.
With a turn of his head, Charles’ attention was suddenly all on Jordan. He opens his mouth, snarling with slight aggression, “I know you think you’re now going to be in contention for becoming the next leader of the Ascendancy when my father steps down from his position. But I am telling you now, I will be getting that position, and I won’t let anyone else take that from me,” his mouth twisting into something fierce and snippy, “just because you’re here now and your father is working for mine, that doesn’t mean you can just be considered all of a sudden. This is my legacy. My birth right. ”
Jordan gives a small scoff, sharpening his expression to show his harshness. So, this is how he wants to play. So be it. “I’ve never really spared a thought towards having that position, it’s never really been a desire of mine to lead an Ascendancy.” Jordan admits through a clenched jaw.
Charles looks at him like Jordan just punched him in the face. “Running the Ascendancy should be the dream of every Seraphim man. You are just jealous because I am first in line above you, and you know that you cannot beat me.”
“Me, jealous?” Jordan snickers softly, “of what? Your ridiculous hairstyle and snobbish clothing?”
He notices Charles’ lips tightening with anger, which makes Jordan grin wider, showing off his small dimples. “My hair is not ridiculous, and you are jealous of my family’s status.”
“I never intended on ever becoming the leader of the Ascendancy,” Jordan pauses, watching Charles’ anger radiate off his body like steam, “yet you might have just convinced me to.”
His smirk drives Charles mad. Charles steps closer to him, his head lifting to look up at Jordan’ bright blue eyes. “You wouldn’t dare, Carter.”
“You see,” Jordan pauses to assert some dominance over Charles, who is sizing him up while Jordan looks down on him. “I am that daring.” Jordan provokes.
“Is that a threat?” Charles spits out, almost in disbelief, as if nobody has ever spoken back to him like this before.
Their chests are almost touching they’re that close now. Jordan can see the tiny inky hairs out of place on his head, the darkened purple bags under his eyes and anger dilating his pupils.
Jordan scoffs a little in amusement. “Consider it a threat, Bladesmith.”
“You better watch your back then, Carter. ”
Charles’ gaze drops from Jordan’s stare down to his lips for a split second, which makes Jordan pull back, putting some distance between them.
He sees the rosy hue of Charles’ cheeks darken as he looks around, slightly embarrassed. “I-I need to go,” he stutters out quietly.
Before Jordan even has time to react, Charles is already storming out of the house towards his carriage. He slams the door shut behind him, the Bladesmith crest delicately carved into the wooden panel.