14. Of Birds and Auras
OF BIRDS AND AURAS
Irene
The preparations for my wedding were coming to an end. Soon, I would be Mrs. Sean Lewis, the wife of a wealthy banker. Hopefully, a happy one.
After years of being rejected by suitors because of my seizures, my luck had turned, and a rich, handsome man wanted to marry me. Why wasn’t I completely happy then?
Bright sunlight gleamed through the tree leaves as I promenaded with Sean in Hyde Park.
The first thing about him that had caught my attention had been his eyes.
The peculiar clear blue was similar to the colour of diamonds hit by the light.
He’d served in the army, which explained his sturdy build.
His strong jaw added a layer of roughness to his already menacing appearance with his being tall and brawny.
His aura was often quiet, and his feelings didn’t reach me clearly, and I didn’t mind. I’d met people whose emotions hadn’t been loud or flashy. At least I wasn’t constantly hit with anger, worry, or sadness.
He stopped next to the Serpentine, his gaze set on a group of swans floating gracefully. “Swans. Extraordinary creatures.”
I didn’t have any particular opinion on them. “They’re beautiful and graceful.”
“And fierce and aggressive. The Valkyries were believed to be able to turn into swans to travel beyond our mortal world.” He sounded angry, like a teacher disappointed that his student hadn’t given the correct answer.
His aura didn’t offer much aside from a quick dark blue flare of sorrow. Swans were a rather sensitive topic for him.
“That’s fascinating. Did you have a pet swan?”
To my surprise, he nodded. “She left me.”
“Do you mean escaped?”
A slow grin curved his lips. His aura remained neutral. “Yes. Two years ago. It was a hard blow. I was very fond of that swan.”
Normally, I would feel sympathy for someone who had lost a beloved pet. Why then wasn’t I sorry for him? Was it me? Had I become less sympathetic?
A child ran past us, spreading perfectly pure, contagious happiness with his yellow aura. His mother chased after him, her parasol bobbing up and down. She was less happy and more worried.
I pushed down my power and controlled my breathing. After years of exercising and practising, the control over my curse had improved. The seizures hadn’t gone away.
“About our honeymoon, I still insist on the French Riviera.” Sean flashed his charming smile, patting my hand on his arm.
“Swiss. I want to see the mountains.”
A tiny shift happened in his aura. Hard to say whether he was displeased or not. “What if we visit both places? We’ll stop in France and then catch a train to Geneva.”
“You always spoil me.”
“And you love it.”
Love. Such a simple word with a heavy meaning. I didn’t love Sean.
He was handsome, charming, and clever, and didn’t care about my seizures. But there was no burning passion between us. Instead, Papa adored him.
I wasn’t a young lady anymore. My Season had been a failure. My social interactions had ended with people whispering about my insanity behind my back or to my face. And spinsterhood was something I’d accepted until I’d met Sean.
Perhaps I was a coward and tired of being alone, but I wanted to be normal.
“You’ll love France.” Sean followed the gliding of the swan with great interest. “And I’m ready to do anything you want, dearest.”
He always did whatever I wished. Always. Which wasn’t as thrilling as it’d been at the beginning of our betrothal. I found his attempts to please me unnerving and disingenuous, and I wished his feelings were clearer.
Papa had secured me a substantial dowry, but Sean wasn’t after the money. He owned plenty of it. The dowry would be mine to spend as I liked. Not many wives were so lucky. But the prospect of living the rest of my life with a man who kept pretending to care worried me.
We paused in front of my house, and he removed his top hat.
“I’ll see you at dinner.” He kissed my hand, and a cold shiver crawled down my body as if a snake were coiling around my arm.
A sparrow flew overhead and landed on his shoulder before taking off again.
Sean didn’t react. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen birds getting close to him, and on any other occasion, I would have considered that a positive trait.
Wild animals didn’t trust just anyone. Yet something disturbing lurked beneath his fairy-tale-like charm.
“Birds seem to like you.” My tone sounded awkward to my own ears.
“They do.” He didn’t add anything else as if the situation weren’t peculiar.
But then again, I sensed other people’s feelings and saw them as colours in the auras. My situation was peculiar as well.
Before entering, I glanced at him. The sparrow was again perched on his shoulder.
Papa came out of the study, his aura sparkling with yellow happiness. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
I handed my capelet to Jones. “Sean is charming.” That was true.
He gloated. “I’m so happy for you.” He held my hand and became serious. “Knowing that you’ll be well cared for after I’m dead makes me so happy.”
“Please, Papa. Stop talking about your death.” I kissed his cheek, but he kept his gloomy expression.
As I went up the stairs to my room, I touched my neck where two small scars were the only things left of Alex. I hadn’t seen him since that fateful day years ago when I’d been taken home unconscious.
Every time I thought of him, the two scars tingled.
Papa had searched for him after the outbreak had ended, but all the patients at the fever hospital had died.
In the brief time we’d spent together, I’d discovered a side of myself I’d ignored. For Alex, I’d sneaked out of my house twice, gone to Whitechapel in the middle of the night, and had the fiercest arguments with Papa.
But Alex was dead, and I missed him terribly.
With him, my spirit of adventure had died, too.