Finvarra's Circus

7- A Metal Contraption

Fire hissed and popped a secret song between the flames and thick logs. Shrouded by the dimness in the corner of the Weston Estate morning room, Leanna tightened her shawl about her shoulders and kept away to where this light could not reach her. Enrapt by flares upon flares of thought, she stared as if transfixed by the flames. But her favorite sight of crimson curls and orange vines pirouetting to nothingness in the shadow of the flue went wholly unseen. Present in body—a weary, sore body—Leanna's mind wandered far, walking the thin line of dances on high wires and goodbyes to new friends; that of a snowy Forever and the tempest of a man's mind; that of leaving her home forever...the only home she'd ever known.

A hollow ache gathered just above Leanna's heart, and the room vanished to a speckled mess of light and shadow behind her tears. She twisted the cool crystal between her fingers, comforted that at least Finvarra had been honest enough—truthful enough for a manipulative, arrogant, boorish man with manners to be desired. Still, a small smile trounced Leanna's frown. Heartless or not, murderer or madman, Finvarra had kept his word. Somehow she had woken that morning in her own four poster bed, her tattered garments returned to their perfected state. Surely Finvarra had concocted some magic to have done this—or had it been Kioyo? Oh who cares, Leanna thought sinking further into the divan. She'd been taken home to see her family one last time. And now—Leanna looked to the clock on the mantle as it struck half past ten—a time to say goodbye to them all.

Dizzy with thought, Leanna let out a heavy sigh.

"Do you mean to sulk all day?" Sarah's arched tone righted the world around Leanna. "You've been sighing all morning, and all throughout morning meal. If it weren't for Dr. Luther's call this morning, I'd have Edith escort you to your rooms since our company is such a bore." Sarah scoffed, and—with little regard for Leanna—strode to Leanna's dark little corner in the world. With a grunt and a tug, she snapped the thick velvet curtains open. Leanna jerked back and shielded her eyes as light burst through the arched windows, filling the room in gold.

Sarah dusted her hands proudly. Resting them on her corseted waist, she stood back to admire her rather minuscule work. "There. We don't want Dr. Luther to think he is entering a mausoleum, as deathly as some may seem," she added as a bitter afterthought. Her nose high in the air, Sarah strode toward the console table between the two windows, turning her attentions to an arrangement of peonies and white roses.

"I do wish you'd do without that sour expression." Lydia started, appearing beside Leanna—actually, she might have been there the entire time, but Leanna was much too tired to notice. Her body ached to where it seemed her soul was burdened with its skin and bones, and she dragged as such, as if wanting to leave it behind. And her mind, well, Leanna wondered if it'd ever left the fairgrounds at all.

"I just don't see why Dr. Luther is coming when he was just here yesterday," Leanna said. "And why must we all be here if he's only come to see Papa? And where is Papa? I told him at breakfast that I had something rather important I wished to discuss with him... with all of you in fact, and I haven't much time." Truthfully, Leanna had no clue what she would say. She had thought to tell them she was leaving for a convent somewhere in the mountains of Pale Clearing, but that was as impractical as saying she'd be joining the circus. Her father would have none of it.