an unthinkable fate, indeed
part two
“A Miss Edwina Sharma for you, my lord,” Jeffries announces before stepping aside to reveal Anthony’s intended. She is not wearing her usual pink, instead opting for a deep blue gown that’s reminiscent of her sister more than anything. “Shall I bring refreshments?”
“I will not be here long enough,” Edwina says before Anthony has the chance to say anything. He offers a short nod to Jeffries before guiding Edwina to one of the softer chairs in his study. “Thank you, my lord.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Anthony asks, taking the chair opposite her. “I hope all is well.”
There’s a fire blazing, trying to stave off some of the wet chill caused by the day’s thunderstorms, that makes Edwina’s face seem to glow. Not for the first time, he’s struck by how beautiful she truly is. And not for the first time, he feels absolutely nothing in response to that knowledge.
“All is not well,” Edwina says slowly. Her fingers fiddle with each other in her lap but it does not hide the way her hands shake. He almost reaches out to take them in his own, to try to soothe some of her worry. Edwina flinches when he moves to just that and he drops his hand back to his lap, his stomach dropping. He is unused to women flinching back from him. “I have thought on what we discussed the last time we were together. About your expectations for our marriage.”
“Is there something you wish to add?” Anthony asks, unconsciously leaning towards her. He prays that she trusts his sincerity as he continues. “I value whatever insight you can offer, Miss Edwina.”
“There is something I wish to clarify,” she says, voice still hesitant. Her eyes scan his face, gauging his mild reaction to her. “You claim that love will have no place in our marriage, correct?”
“That is what I said, yes.”
“Yet, I am sure that my sister made it quite clear that what I wanted, above all else,” Edwina says, voice gaining confidence as she speaks. There’s a spark of anger in her eyes that makes him think of Kate. “Was a love match.”
“She mentioned as much,” Anthony mutters before clearing his throat. He tries to push away whatever thoughts of Kate that the mere mention of her brought to mind - her eyes, her lips, the curve of her cheek. It’s an impossible task that he is incapable of accomplishing but it does not stop him from trying. “More than once.”
“And knowing that you were not interested in a love match,” Edwina continues in the same sharp tone. Her genteel voice slowly giving way to a deeper tone, a sharper tone with the same clipped off accent as her sister. “You still chose to pursue me.”
It is not a question.
“The night of the poetry reading,” Anthony offers. “I said that I could not give you the passion you deserve but my promise to be a good husband still stands. I will do my duty in regards to you and the role you fulfill in my life.”
“There is that word again,” Edwina says with a slight chuckle, shaking her head.
“Pardon?”
“Roles,” Edwina says through her teeth. She inhales sharply, shaking her head gently before pinning him with her piercing gaze. Were he a younger man, a weaker man, he might have flinched back from such a gaze. “Duty. I should have listened better, I suppose.”
“Wh-what is it - what was it you came here to say, Miss Edwina?” Anthony asks, tugging at his cravat slightly. He finds it hard to breathe, his chest tightening the same way it had in the garden that morning.
“Nothing,” she says softly, looking down at her fiddling fingers. Her shoulders deflate and some of the anger melts from her face. “There is nothing that I have to say, my lord. As I said, I only seek clarification.”
“Clarification,” he repeats.
“What was it about me, Edwina Sharma, that first attracted you?” Edwina asks. She still will not meet his eye but there’s no hesitation in her voice. “Was it something about me or was it simply the role the Queen assigned me?”
Anthony flounders for a brief moment before replying, “Being named Diamond is what first drew me to you. I will not deny that but I was earnest when I said that speaking with you was refreshing, that your comportment and grace outshone every other debutante on the market. The Queen named you Diamond but, Miss Edwina, you are the one who fully embodied the title.”
“Are we not more than our titles?” Edwina asks, looking up at him with pained eyes.”Can we not just be Anthony and Edwina? Must it be that all we are is the future Viscount and Viscountess?”
Anthony’s frowning silence becomes an answer on it’s own.
“If you’ll excuse me, my lord,” Edwina says before standing up and looking anywhere other than at him. “I believe that is all I care to hear for today. Thank you for answering my questions. I have much to think on.”
“Yes, of course,” Anthony replies, standing as well. “As always my door is open should you need anything.”
“A small comfort,” Edwina mutters, low enough that Anthony is sure that she did not intend for him to hear her. Much like she had the other day, Edwina does not wait for his leave to offer a short bob of a curtsy before sweeping out of his study in a blur of blue silk.
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everybody’s always on writing prompts like “what if there was a world where everyone had a timer ticking down to their death… but you met someone whose timer said infinity!” or “what if everyone had their cause of death tattooed across their forehead… but you met someone whose forehead said THE CREATURE!” Enough -
enough. stop with the shock value. there is no need to insert THE CREATURE; the benign concept of such a world is horrifying enough. not even in urgency, but just in banal, everyday interaction. imagine you meet someone and their timer says two years. not tomorrow, not urgently soon, but two years. enough to do quite a lot. they could fall in love in that time - could they get engaged? have a baby? you might otherwise get to know them, befriend them, but perhaps you opt not to, make a conscious choice not to invest in your own grief. what balancing act would every individual person have to participate in - I have ten years, is that long enough to be a good mother to children? is that long enough to secure a caretaker for my own mother? my wife will die a few months before me. my newborn’s timer reads nineteen years.
and cause of death. you interview for a job and emblazoned across the healthy, smiling face of the HR lady is MALNUTRITION. your country is prospering, safe, but every person you meet on the street from the babies to the old women read BOMB. BOMB. what kind of havoc would fate wreak on the world? what about the loss of privacy? how would that shape our notions of hope? idk man I think a lot of those ancient poems were right, and the fates are monsters. I’m interested by the framing of these ideas as trite horror tales when the premises themselves are so much more disturbing if simply taken to their logical ends
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What are dead man walking tornadoes? :O
it’s a multi-vortex tornado. i dont remember the tribe it originates from (i think it was cherokee), but there’s a native american legend…? saying? that goes “if you see a man in a tornado, you are about to die.”
the most infamous shot of a dead man walking tornado hit jarrell, texas in 1997
it did so much damage to the town it caused the scale that tornados are measured by, the fijita scale, undergo revisions, and it made anchoring buildings in the tornado alley region pretty much mandatory. (it took the entire town off the map. only those who had taken shelter outside of the town or in underground bunkers survived.)
two more examples of dead man walking tornadoes looking like a person are a tornado from 2011 that hit cullman, alabama
and a tornado from 1975 that hit xenia, ohio
edit: it has been brought to my attention that the native american “legend” part of this post was a rumor spread by a documentary.
i have been asked to remove it, but i believe in letting my errors stand because i’m not perfect. i make mistakes
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