➷ ࿐ྂ

🏹ׅ۬∙

Separate Journeys

the younglord gone. The sheets that were once warm and smelled of fresh summer faded in his absence. The girl abruptly sat up and turned in every direction to find him in fear that she may have lost the boy from recklessness to display themselves outside around the dark, hiding enemies for the sake of the glittering jewels up in the sky. She ran her fingers through her hair and stretched, yawning. Maybe the marquess just woke up earlier.

Suddenly, the door opened to reveal Tewkesbury in a nice new coat. He quickly walked over to the girl and kissed her forehead as she hugged him.

"Good morning," she said in a sleepy voice.

"Morning breath, darling." He replied and placed a small peck on her cheek. "I helped prepare breakfast a few minutes ago when you were still asleep."

"Thank you. Always the gentleman you are," she chirped and skipped happily to the elegant wooden table, taking a fork and stabbing the carrot, eating it.

Tewkesbury's chest started to pound and jitter when he saw this happy state of hers. He was scared to tell her the news. He slowly walked towards her in a gloomy manner.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?" She asked and turned to him, her mouth full of the meal on the plate he brought. "What is it?"

He chuckled nervously and held a missive written on the paper out for her to see. "My Uncle. He er — "

"Died?" The girl suspected.

"What?" He frowned and incredulously shook his head, following this motion with, "No, no. He's fine. I'm — He wants me to go back to Basilwether, Y/N."

The girl's smile faded as she swallowed her food. She then took a seat, looking away while mirroring his look. "I'm assuming you can't attend the tour with me?" She asked solemnly.

"I can't. But, you're independent and strong. I know you can do it." Tewkesbury said to slightly ease her, but no matter how hard he tried, he could see the slight disappointment in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled with a sigh. She looked at him and forced a smile.

"It's all right, Nitwit. It's not like we won't see each other for a year."

He only stared at her knowing damn well he would be gone for more than just a few months. "Right?"

Tewkesbury looked down in shame. "I'm afraid we won't see each other for indeed a year." He said.

Y/N almost choked on her saliva. She knitted her eyebrows together even more. "Why?"

"The manor. It was burnt down causing the other people's place to go down too. My mum's worried as well. My uncle wants to sell our estate and land for a better living somewhere in Spain. I can't have him go that far. I have so many matters to attend to. The borders assigned to my rule is having this ongoing territorial rivalry between my people and the other side. That's what caused the fire. The people there — they're scared, and they need me. I have to go back."

She put the fork down to its original place, sighing. "You can't have a break, can you?"

Y/N got on her feet and pulled him in an embrace to which he returned. The boy caressed the cotton fabric on her back, taking in the sight of her hair under the morning shine.

"I will come back for you. I always will. No borders shall be the reason that I stop."

❪ ❁ ❫

As the dawn swallowed the sun, Tewkesbury left the building to return to his own estate, leaving Y/N under Lord Leucrion's care who gladly accepted her in open arms.

She likes him. He's a good man. She thought him and Lord Cosko's daughter, Guineviere, had something going on between them. They had been flirting all day. She couldn't help but feel maybe a little envious. She wished Tewkesbury didn't have to leave so she'd have someone to exchange witty retorts with as well.

"Are you seriously still staring at me, Leucrion?" The young lady of Castalene asked.

"Is it bad to admire a piece of art? And here I thought everyone addressed me with my title. I presume you'd make an excellent exception."

❪ ❁ ❫

Weeks had passed, Y/N had successfully convinced five nobility to join her in this new project. As for her and Tewkesbury, they sent each other letters endlessly. He always inserted rose petals on the delivery of his packages, and never once forgot to sign off as 'Nitwit'.

Lord Barron has recovered from consuming the poison in his drink with the help of the best doctors in London. An unfortunate event in Y/N's book.

As for his smug son, Elliot; he was married to another woman who he made sure to write a letter to Y/N, describing his bride prettier, richer and more disciplined.

As if she cared, she thought.

He could do anything to that rich woman in front of her, and she wouldn't give a penny. They didn't even have any history yet he kept on rubbing their marriage all on her face as if he's even half a single percent of Tewkesbury.

The assassination still took place, apparently. The spies never left them alone, but they only caused minor inconveniences much to everyone's luck. When Y/N spotted Enola in the estate she was assigned to go on a unity tour in, she practically begged for her to chase the tails of whoever is behind this.

To which she replied quite dramatically, "You're not alone in this. I will do everything in my power to find out who's behind this cruel attempt. I will help you for you are my friend and my sister."

❪ ❁ ❫

Eleven new moons, eleven months. Y/N had been anxious and busy. Her and the young lord had aged up, but they didn't care. Tewkesbury hasn't been sending anything at all since the past month when he told her about a girl who always kept picking his annoyance at the estate.

Y/N remembered him telling her her name was Lisette. The daughter of his uncle's friend. She couldn't help but feel a little scared since that girl came into the picture. She was scared that maybe Tewkesbury would like that girl more than her.

There was jealousy brewing in her every vein. Though, she couldn't say anything. She couldn't even bring up Lisette's name on every letter she sent to which he didn't even reply to.

She knew if she would, the young lord might suspect or think the wrong idea about her not trusting him enough. Of course she trusted him. More than anything or anyone in this world. She valued him more than she valued herself.

Y/N scribbled down on the piece of scented parchment with the quill in her hand. She sniffled as she poured her heart and frustrations on the letter. She couldn't help but feel down about it. He was the only one left in her life. She was so afraid of him leaving it just like that.

❪ ❁ ❫

Dear Tewkesbury,

Do you still think of me? Because, I do. I always do. I'm afraid you don't even read my letters anymore just like how you did the last time. I am desperate for your return. I am desperate to receive a response.

I am desperate for you.

Have you found another woman to love who's better than me? Who touches the field of pinks, laces, ribbons, and pearls more than I do? Or perhaps the contrasting idea of how I am?

Do you still value me more than your existence, or have you forgotten the words you've uttered?

Was sleeping under the stars with you just an act to make me swoon endlessly? Was it for an act to watch me weep for you like this? Were you just playing with the ember I provided?

I trust you with all that is left within me, Tewkesbury. I give you much more importance than any piece of jewellery this world could ever offer.

You told me eternity is not a distance nor a barrier. It is a choice. You asked me to let you adore me in every minute of every day without knowing I've already poured my heart out to you before the question even had the chance to leave your mouth?

I want a reply and that's not a request. Now, answer my question.

Are you still mine?

❪ ❁ ❫

She didn't sign her name at the bottom. If he was lousy, so was she. To put an effort for someone who doesn't? Why lower the scale she sat on when she could make it equal? The girl put the parchment in the cream envelope and sealed it with the blue wax of Lord Lucreon's house emblem of a dove.

She got outside and waited for the mailman to tell him who it was for. Y/N pursed her lips and wiped her tears that streamed her cheeks.

"Truth is my highest demand. Do not fail me, Tewkesbury," she whispered as she watched the mailman's figure disappear in the farthest view.

❪ ❁ ❫

A few days passed, Y/N received a response. She has never felt so alive since the past few weeks. The girl was quick to go up to her room Lord Leucrion has offered her to stay in and opened the plain white envelope that didn't meet her satisfaction.

Usually, he'd put a pressed flower on the wax seal and give the envelope a little shine of colour, but no matter. He still responded, didn't he?

Once she unfolded the parchment of the young lord's words, her face twisted in a questionable paint of expression, not knowing how to react. Was the letter's intention to laugh at her face? To scare her? "Was it serious?" was the question.

❪ ❁ ❫

The answer will be given to you, L/N. Come back to Basilwether and wait for me in the garden where the lemon tree lies still.

❪ ❁ ❫

There were a lot of mistakes in the missive. The letter's inked words felt colder than the waters of the Atlantic.

First, he didn't say 'dearest'. Second, he called her by her last name. Third, his letter didn't end with his name as Nitwit. Lastly, he didn't include rose petals inside the envelope.

'What is the answer, Tewkesbury?'