Felix froze.
Soft, unhurried footsteps echoed along the corridor.
Eleanor.
He made his decision in an instant and pulled the brass lever of the gas lamp. The flame died with a quiet hiss, plunging the room into darkness. With no time to think, he dropped the lamp and moved blindly through the cramped space, forcing his breathing into silence.
Careful
Ouch.
Pain shot through his foot as he stumbled. A shard of glass, one of the mirror fragments, had lodged itself deep into his sole. Felix clamped a hand over his mouth, biting back the groan that threatened to escape from his mouth.
"Felix… is everything alright?"
Her voice was closer now. She had already changed course and was now heading towards his room.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
His heart hammered violently in his chest, each step of hers echoing in his ears until Silence. complete silence.
She had stopped just outside his door.
Felix's thoughts snapped back into motion. Blood. There was still blood everywhere; the darkness alone would not save him nor quell Eleanor's suspicion. And Eleanor, he knew her well enough. If she were walking the corridor at this hour, she would have brought a lamp. She was terrified of the dark.
A faint amber glow slipped through the crack beneath the door. Of course, she had.
Suppressing the pain, Felix steadied himself against the wall and forced his mind to work. Even if the room concealed the worst of it, there were still too many details, too many things he had not had time to hide.
There is no escaping this. If she steps in here, she will definitely question everything…
Gritting his teeth, he pulled the shard from his foot and stifled a sharp breath. Blood slicked his hands as he reached for the doorknob. Without thinking, he wiped them hastily against the wood before twisting it open.
He hopped shakily, but steadied himself against the wall to maintain false composure.
Eleanor stood there in her nightgown, a half-filled gas lamp in one hand, the other rubbing sleep from her eyes. She leaned faintly against the wall, her posture loose with fatigue as she raised the lamp toward his face.
The light revealed the faint irritation in her expression, brows slightly raised, lips drawn into a thin line. But as she looked at him, the annoyance slightly softened. She stretched her arms and let out a wide yawn, then, catching herself, quickly covered her mouth.
"Pardon…"
Even half-asleep, she corrected herself, she had always been very mindful of her actions and tried to outgrow any 'improper' manners. With her quiet determination and years of training, even in her sleepy state, she still subconsciously tried to exercise the proper attitude and mannerisms expected of a refined young lady
The lamplight outlined her frail figure. Her breathing was uneven, her breathing slightly ragged, her frame slight enough to seem almost weightless. For a moment, Felix thought she looked as though a strong gust might carry her away.
A quiet, self-deprecating thought crossed his mind.
With her bony frame and my ghastly white of a face… we could make quite a fine horror exhibit between us.
He gave a faint smile as he almost laughed.
Eleanor, however, drew a measured breath through her breathing apparatus, steadying herself quietly before speaking. Her eyes lingered on him, on his posture, his uneven stance, the weird smile on his face and the faint tremor he could not quite hide.
Under her breath, barely audible, she murmured, "May the Crimson Mother guide my dear brother away from his less sensible impulses."
Felix wasn't quite certain whether he had truly heard it. Given the events of the night, he wasn't entirely certain he would have minded if she summoned a priest to give him a thorough exorcism.
Eleanor had known a very different childhood from her brother. Her frail health and a weak constitution confined her to a sedentary life, one that she spent largely behind closed doors. Despite this, she remained remarkably sensible, never once giving voice to complaint. Her days were defined by silence and long stretches of solitude within the house.
She would often climb onto a small oak stool by the window, watching the world beyond as others went about their lives. It was from this quiet ritual that her observant nature was born. She learned to notice everything, yet take part in nothing.
Their father, burdened by guilt for his absence, attempted to compensate in the only ways he knew how. He ensured she was provided with a well-regarded private tutor and lavished her thoroughly with gifts, though these gestures did little to fill her emotional void. Their mother was even more distant, her presence marked chiefly by bitterness. She placed blame for the failings of her marriage upon Eleanor, and in time, following their father's scandal, abandoned the household and the siblings entirely.
Left within what felt increasingly like an emotional prison, Eleanor turned to the only source of genuine affection she had: her brother. She made it her quiet duty to protect him, devoting herself wholly to his well-being.
Felix understood that beneath her calm and seemingly emotionless exterior lay a deep resentment of her own helplessness. Unwilling to be a burden, she redirected that frustration into constant concern for others, offering what help she could while enduring her own struggles in silence. She had been quietly suffering the breathlessness and the slow, painful corrosion of Veyn fumes long before he purchased the breathing apparatus for her, an act that angered her, not due to ingratitude, but from guilt at the costliness of the device. Yet the device granted her something she had never truly possessed. Independence.
So it came as a shock to Felix when she announced her intention to begin training as a governess. For Eleanor, it was not just ambition; it was a necessary sacrifice. She was determined, at last, to become self-sufficient and to care for her brother by any means available to her.
"It's fine, El..", he continued slowly, " …I only tripped on my way to the bathroom."
Felix held a tight smile as he spoke, his fingers unconsciously adjusting the collar of his linen shirt. All the while, he prayed the light from her lamp was too dim to give anything away. The last thing he wanted was to give her yet another issue to worry about. He had already made up his mind, after reading the journal, that whatever trouble he had entangled himself in would remain his burden alone.
Eleanor's stubborn green eyes caught the glow of the glass lamp as she looked up at him, her grip tightening gently around his arm.
"You don't have to keep working at the Ancient History Museum…" The words seemed to ease her as soon as they were spoken, her brows softened, and the tension in her shoulders slowly gave way. It was a thought she had clearly been holding onto for some time.
Felix instinctively lifted a hand to smooth her auburn hair, a familiar gesture meant to comfort her worries, but he stopped himself. The image of fresh blood staining his hands flashed unbidden through his mind, and he lowered his hand just as quickly. To him, Eleanor had never changed. No matter her age, she remained the same, always watching over him, always forgetting herself.
Then he recalled her sentence, and the meaning of her words settled in.
He suddenly stilled.
She had said working. A job.
Since graduating from Arcanum University, Felix had searched tirelessly for employment, sending applications wherever and whenever he could without fail. Among his lists of applications, almost as an afterthought, was a position at the Ancient History Museum. He submitted the application on a whim after he was encouraged to by his history professor. He had never truly expected a reply.
The museum was a small branch of the conservatory department under the consortium; despite this it was a huge opportunity for someone like him to be able to progress in his study of history and archaeology, because, not only was it the only ancient history museum in the Vaelor kingdom, it was the only museum dedicated to preserving ancient history in the entire Olde continent.
Why would the museum hire a recent graduate with no experience? And more importantly, when did they hire him?
Felix stiffened, his gaze unfocused as he stared blankly into space. A cold wave of unease crept through him as he began to worry that he might truly have a serious issue with his mental health and was slowly losing his grasp on reality.
"I know you're afraid to disappoint Professor Hale", Eleanor said gently, "but you must pay more attention to your health… You have only worsened since you started the job"
Felix was too deep into his panicked thoughts that he paid even less attention to her words. He stood there, dazed as he stared blankly into the wall. Eleanor saw the expression on his face and paused resignedly. She mistook his silence for sadness and helplessness. Reaching out, she held his hand and stroked it lightly in an attempt to soothe him.
"After my training in a year, I would be a proper governess", she continued, her voice even steadier now, "Mrs Dubley is quite certain I can find a family … willing to pay at least 15 shillings a week, even for an inexperienced governess. And besides…"
She hesitated, a faint blush slowly rising to her cheeks
"A younger brother like you should not be working to provide for his elder sister; it ought to be the other way around!"
She held her hips in total exasperation as she calmed her breathing. Suddenly, she fell quiet, tilting her head as she took in his appearance. The embarrassment slowly left her face, replaced with confusion.
"Felix…. Did you go to bed in your work attire ?"
"No..yes"
Her question suddenly broke him out of his reverie; the contradictory answer slipped out before he could make up a reasonable one.
So that's why I am dressed like this
A faint, self-reproachful smile tugged at his lips. He looked up, only to find Eleanor had gone still. Her gaze was fixed on his uncollared shirt. On the dark, unmistakable imprint of a bloodied hand. Felix's breath caught.
"I cut my hand", he said quickly, "while fixing the sundial "
Eleanor wore a strange look on her face as she examined him from head to toe, moving her gaze from his face to his hands, then back again. A quiet "Mm" escaped her lips, her expression almost unreadable.
At last, she sighed and let go of his arm
"Be more careful", she said sternly, her tone firm. "You've only one spare shirt. Leave it for me in the morning. I'll have it soaked."
With that, she turned, lifting her gas lamp as she made it back to her room. obvious relief flooded Felix's face; thankfully, she was not suspicious. at least, no openly so.
"Alright", he managed to reply in a steadying voice, then retreated towards his room.
"and, Felix.."
He froze and held back his gasp; had she caught on to his strange behaviour?
"..the bathroom is the other way", he turned back to face his sister's figure
Eleanor stood still watching him, her usually bright green eyes had no expression on them as she quietly stared back at him, the lamp reflecting back on her olive skin, her face unnaturally still. He was certain she had a few suspicions and had noticed his strange behaviour, but had ultimately decided not to say anything. She put her hand in her pocket and retrieved her music box brooch.
"It's broken again."
He nodded in understanding, taking it from her without a word as he slipped the brooch into his pocket. Giving up, he decided to test his worries and confirm the theory that had been forming in his mind.
"Eleanor…" he asked quietly, "…what day is it?"
That strange look reappeared on her face once more
"… it is the 4th of March, 1830"