When I woke, I tried my best to fix my sour mood after such a shallow nightmare, and in an attempt to distract myself, I began the procedure of rewrapping and cleaning my bandages. I tenderly pushed a shy finger against my eye, the sharp pain barking back in response. After a split second of resign, I turned to my new clothes and got dressed. The undershirt and cloak were holily soft, the covering of the face offering a forgotten assurance. Pulling on the pants, I tightened them as he noted and laced up the boots after putting on thin stockings. With the cane, a divine gift in my hand, I quietly walked towards the stairway, counting down the seven steps.
I froze in my spot as the sense from before buzzed to life- sensing a new person approaching the manor, their movements more rigid than anyone in the house. As guaranteed, a loud knock pounded against the front door, and Lord Fomlé himself opened it to the unannounced stranger.
"Welcome Klinden, I'm glad your father is willing to do me this last favor."
The stranger, Klinden, snorted.
"You're lucky he owes you such a huge favor. He's not particularly... Amiable about this request." His voice was irritating; arrogant speech patterns, decorated with cheeky sounds. Just from hearing him, I could recognize his stand-offish attitude; a faint memory of one of my cursed cousins flickering. My grip on the cane tightened uncomfortably, but I forced myself to take a slow breath. I'm not there anymore. I wasn't there, and I had changed to the point of being able to hear their words from downstairs as if I was right next to them.
"Well, that's your father's problem then. The city isn't safe for her- her family is raising all Hell trying to find her. I'm sure you and your father know the details from the letter I sent. A safe haven- a calm retreat. I don't think that's too much to ask from him given how I've helped you all over the years."
It was the first time I had heard Lord Fomlé get short and curt with someone, but I was cheering him on against the cocky Klinden. A defeated sigh slithered through his teeth, a surrendered silence taking place between them.
"Why?"
The question hung in the air.
"Why are you going this far for a stranger?" Klinden, for the first time, softened his voice, though he still held an irritated huff tacked onto the end.
"Tell me Klinden, do you have a favorite place?" At the pause, I imagined he had nodded.
"That favorite place- perhaps a gorgeous stream which cuts through a mountain. Even though you don't know it intimately, just being there makes you feel better. Wouldn't you protect that place? Plague, disease- if you could, you would protect that place to ensure you can still rest there and enjoy the small peace it offers." Another pause.
"She's my favorite place. After Rohlf's death, she offered the few moments I felt close to him again."
So that was what he meant yesterday- why he had saved me from death, even though I was a complete stranger. Somehow, I wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or upset. I was grateful he had saved me, but in his mind, was it really me he was saving? Or simply someone who brought back the memory of his deceased son? Someone who had little value outside of being a substitute?
At that thought, I silently retreated back to his room and packed my few belongings. Though part of me wanted to ignore it, I had heard him say that my 'family' was looking for me. Though I had never told him my name, I assumed it wouldn't be so hard to connect the dots if my family was pretending that I had run away rather than had been murdered by the hands of my future husband. Though I hated to admit it, I had grown dependent on the peace and solace Lord Fomlé's house offered me, and I was desperate to avoid my family even though I doubt that they'd recognize me in my current state. Yet, on the off chance that they did- I also knew I would be perfectly vulnerable to their schemes. A harsh chill seized my bones at the mere thought of it: a blind, disabled Eleanor trapped within their clutches to be put to rest at any moment.
Meanwhile, by the grace of God, a tenderness nestled itself behind my ear. In a way, I had repaid some of the kindness Lord Fomlé had given for me. I brought him close to the lost memory of his son, and perhaps my existence provided him in his old age a sense of companionship. Now it was time to exercise the independence he taught me, because realistically, Lord Fomlé was only getting older, and I didn't want to be a burden more so than I already was.
So, internally saying goodbye to my surroundings, I counted the 13 steps down the stairs and stood before them both, my bag slung over my shoulder. Unable to express my thanks to Lord Fomlé, all I could do was place my hand over my heart and bow slightly while offering him a pure smile.
"Impressive hearing..." He muttered. "I'm glad that's settled then. I'll come visit sometime. Thank you." It felt strange for him to be thanking me, but I smiled nonetheless, my face-covering hood tucked beneath my chin before I untucked it and directed my head towards the stranger.
"For being blind, it's a little unsettling for you to look in my direction like that..." A smirk printed a teasing currency across my lips making me glad he couldn't see my mouth. It had been a long time since I had interacted with someone not connected to the Estettes in some way, and though I knew my presence was only granted relief due to Lord Fomlé, I was excited to embark on a new path.
At the lack of where my response would have been if I could talk, Klinden extended his fairwell to Lord Fomlé. Following the faint glowing sense of him and tapping the ground with my cane, I did my best to follow him outside without even the most basic guidance I had grown accustomed to. Wasn't it common curtesy to help a blind person get where they needed to go? Unsure, I tried to give Klinden the benefit of the doubt while also trying my best not to trip or fumble about- my pride battling with my embarrassment. Pausing at the clattering of a carriage; at the familiar sound of the door being opened and Klinden's step aside, I found the step with my cane and stepped inside, my opposite palm feeling for the roof and finding a seat. If he had been offering his hand, I didn't accept it, not that I would have been able to find it without his assistance. The hesitation of his entering the carriage seemed to speak of an inkling of shock, but I knew he would never vocalize it.
With the sway of us settling inside, it was a knock on the back side of the carriage which sent it into motion. The sounds of the hooves beating into the road made me think of bells, reminding me of the last carriage ride I had; the glossy lights, the alleys and night scenes. It felt so long ago, and for all I knew, it was. How much time had passed while I was at Lord Fomlé's manor? And now that I was sitting here, where was I going, and with who?
Almost as if reading my mind, Klinden chuffed out a quick breath.
"My name is Klinden Warren. Per Lord Fomlé's request, we are adopting you into our household and shielding you from your family in the process..."
Adopting me into their household? That's more than I expected.
An awkward silence stuffed the air of the carriage, though only because I could tell Klinden had questions I wouldn't be able to answer. Finally he decided on:
"Just because we are adopting you into our family doesn't mean you're one of us, got it?"
Cah. So much for 'benefit of the doubt'...
I didn't bother nodding or responding, instead turning my head to the side- perhaps it was insult to injury. I'm blind, I can't see you anyways, but I'm turning my head away from you. It kind of has a sweet taste to it.
To his annoyed chit, another smirk pressed against my lips.
Oh the glory of body language.