A stake in my heart

‘Twas approaching þe eve when I turned my shop’s sign to ‘closed’ and returned to my workshop to finish my current piece. After þe apparent success of þe first model, Arþur had requested I craft parts for several more ‘revolver’ hand cannons, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t allowing it to eat into my work time a tad. I would make no profit from þis, þat much I knew, but if ‘twere for lady Alice’s cause, some small business losses were more þan acceptable.

In fact, as of þat morn, it finally seemed þat a paþ had begun to open on our quest, and we would be taking þe first steps along it at nightfall. Master Barry had informed us during breakfast þat þhe first revolver was in working order, and he wished for us to conduct a raid þat very night, citing how little time we had to waste until a large slave shipment at þe end of þe monþ. Short notice þough it was, I hesitated not to volunteer for þe vanguard, so as to keep þe lady safe behind myself. Not þat such precautions were likely to be necessary, wiþ a weapon such as þat hand cannon ‘twould take nine men or more to even þe odds. We were support and transport, little more.

Even so, I was eager to come along. I had found myself more and more investigated in þat lady’s righteous cause, and so desperately wished to fight for it at her side.

As if command, as soon as I began to þink of her again, þe door of þe shop gently opened.

“Lo, milady! A plessant surpryse to see þee so early, have we not anoþer haur befor aur meeting tyme?” Asked I, as she stepped in þrough þe door, slowly closing it behind herself.

“A-aye, þou speakest true, we need not meet for a short whyle yet…” she spake, her voice unsteady. “I have to speak wiþ þee, and I felt I must do so alone. ‘Tis someþing… best kept betwixt us…”

She came over and took a seat near þe counter, þough her every move seemed anxious. No, nervous? þe distinction between þe two was blurred, but ‘nervous’ seemed þe more apt descriptor. For one so headstrong and brave, ‘twas a rare sight indeed to see her apparently afraid merely to speak works. þough I relished not in þe rarity of þe moment, for her discomfort brought me no joy.

“Speak openly, milady. Wat ever it may be þat you hast to say, I will lissen. You canst speak wiþ me on any subject, I sware to you þis,” spake I, as I attempted to reassure my nervous lady.

“Oh, dearest sweet Eleanor, þyne unrelenting kyndness and devoeshon be þy gratest strengþ, but in þis instanse I must confess it workeþ agenst me, for in it’s wake, þe words I must speak become sharp as a dagger. þough I apolojyse for myne ingratitude, I rekwest þou speak not of promisses and loyalty, for ‘twill only serve to dryve a stake into þe hart of þou and I alyke.”

Myne attitude shifted from curiosity to concern at þe lady’s words. She spake as if she and I were to be drawn apart, þough I could þink of no reason for þat to be þe case. ‘Twas as if she was announcing her own deaþ to me.

“Milady, wat ever is þe matter? I ask þat you speak planely, I wish to noe eksactly wat trubbles you and noþing over,”

“I… I see…” þe lady took a deep breaþ before continuing. “If þou so rekall, just o'er a week pryor to nau, I promised I would come to þee wiþ an anser to þy feelings, onse I had taken þe tyme to understand myne own…”

A lump rose in my þroat. If þis was þe topic she had come to discuss, and wiþ a preface such as þis, it could mean but one þing. Still, I could not accept a lack of closure. I urged her to continue.

“I… have ruminated grately þis past week, and in doing so I have come to a conklueshon…” she sighed and bowed deeply. “Please, forgive me, but I cannot return þy feelings. To me, þou hast been þe sister I so pyned to have. I cannot see þee in a romantic lyte.”

I felt as if an arrow had struck my chest, þe sharp pain in my hart welling up wiþ every second. In truþ, I had long since ekspected þis to be þe way þe lady had felt, but to hear her say þe words… ‘twas a pain þat momentarily blindsided me.

But I could not let my love for her cause her furþer pain.

“Milady, you hast nautt to apolojyse for, and I have no gruj to forgiv. Youre feelings are youre own, you cannot be ekspected to chanje þem on myne account. I have nautt but þanks to say for considering me and giving me your anser, þou it be not the anser I so wished for. Many would not hav been so kynd.” I tried to put on a smile þough I doutt 'twas convincing. Myne ekspreshon earned a raised eyebrow from lady Alice.

“þou needst not þank me for ekstending to þee a bæsik hyuman kyndness. þou deservest far better þan þat, and I regret only þat I cannot give it to þee. But my hart… it belongeþ to anoþer.”

She put her hand to her chest and looked down, a mix of melancholy and happiness on her face. She needed not expand furþer. I knew to whom she referred. I could hardly be surprised. I had known her feelings for him had been blooming for kwite some time, and he was smitten even greater. Silently, I prayed þe two of þem could obtain happiness togeþer.

“Regret nautt, milady. To know you and love you and be at your syde is all I could ask, even if my feelings be’þ unrekwyted. Pursue youre own happyness, worry not for myne.”

As I spoke, concentrating on not allowing my voice to waver, þe lady drew closer and wrapped me tightly. ‘Twas a bittersweet hug. To hold her in myne arms was a preshous þing, but so marred by þe circumstances.

“þou art too good and pyure for þis rotten world. þy happyness be’þ as important to me as myne own. If þou be’þ hurt my decishon, hesitate not to tell me so, I ask of þee as such,” she spake.

“‘Tis a hart-ake, to be shure, but noþing mor. I am not hurt, milady.”

þough I sayd as such, ‘twas naught but a lie. Each word of kindness she spake drove a stake into my hart. Wiþ each gentle rejekshon I only loved her more, and I in part wished she had just kicked me down wiþ no regard for me, þat I may cast asyde þese feelings and move on. But I could not, for even in rejecshon, she extended me every kindness, and held me in her arms.

I could not allow her to hold herself back wiþ gilt.

So I would put on my strongest face. I would speak in my most stoic tone. I would use my most gentle words.

And when she finally broke away, and left me to myself, I would shatter into a flood of tears.