Twenty-Six  

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Eight Years Ago

A sense of exuberance and accomplishment like no other filled Izzy, seeping from every pore on her skin. She couldn't help the grin that swept over her lips as she padded down the dark hallway towards her private quarters, the sounds of applause still loud in her ears- a not so distant memory that echoed and prevailed upon her mind, making her feel as if she could soar, as if she could conquer the entire world.

Not moments before, the final curtain had fallen on the performance where she had, after years of minor parts, concluded her first major leading role- and Izzy knew, intrinsically, that she had performed astoundingly. There would follow more interest in her position in the current company she was employed with, and possibly more from others, so long as her name continued to grace the playbill.

For the first time in years, she felt like her life had meaning and direction; a sustainable means to support her and her sister in a way that would ensure they weren't just scraping by. Her attempts had finally paid off and the exertions she had placed at entering the arts weren't wasted.

Entering her small rooms where she was boarding temporarily while she was set to perform over the next sennight, she began to remove the ensemble that covered her limbs- a tight corset and dusty wig. A lamp had been lit and set on the low table beside her cot, but its light wasn't enough to illuminate the entirety of her room, therefore her distracted mind hadn't registered that she wasn't alone. When she didn't finally catch sight of the rustling fabric in the solitary chair placed near the hearth, she jumped.

"Byron!"

Heart-thundering, she slumped against the wall for a moment, allowing the relief to rush through her at the familiarity of the intruder. Byron Woodward was certainly no threat considering he had been courting her for the last two months, and their relationship had only just blossomed into intimacy recently. The young man had become her first infatuation and Izzy believed that she could come to love the handsome clerk.

"You frightened me!" she reprimanded him teasingly, lowering her hand from where it had been clutching at her heart. Byron hadn't moved, however, and the shadows that caressed his face hid an expression that began to make her skin prick with a sense of unease. "Is everything alright?"

Byron shifted then, leaning forward slightly to brace his elbows on his knees. His head hung low between his shoulders, but before his dark hair hung over his brow and temples Izzy caught a glimpse of the tortured ache in his brown eyes.

Having removed enough pins from the wig, Izzy hurriedly rid herself of the uncomfortable contraption and moved towards him, her steps slow and cautious. Something was certainly amiss for never before had her interactions with him been anything but flirtatious and cheerful. This sombre mood made her entire being hum with an essence of dark premonition.

"Byron?" she said his name again, a hesitance in her voice.

He didn't glance at her, but she saw his shoulders tense under the plain coat he wore. They were both of working classes, young and endeavouring to make their way through life- to earn a sustainable and honourable living. That is what had initially drawn her to Byron all those nights ago when he had approached her after one of her plays that had taken place in a smaller theatre catering to cheaper tickets and the clientele who could afford them.

"I..." His voice was coarse, a low sound of flat despair that made her steps halt and her knees lock in place before him. "I must apologise."

For a moment, Izzy allowed her mind to replay every interaction they had in the past several days in order to find something that would warrant an apology from him, but she came up blank. There was no reason for him to be apologising to her, none that she could flawlessly recall in any event. "I am not sure I understand," she told him, anxious about the entire situation. "For what reason would you need to apologise?"

He expelled a ragged breath, the sound grating in the silence of her temporary room. There was nothing familiar about the space, nothing that suggested sentimental value over merely a place to rest her head, and the unhomeliness of the space pressed upon her then in the face of Byron's solemnity, making her long for the familiar confines of the tiny room she shared with her sister a fair distance away. Instinctually, her arms wrapped around her waist, pulling tight.

"I am afraid I must end this arrangement between us," he said at length, and the words left him on short expulsions, as if he couldn't wait to be rid of them.

They sat in the air between them heavy and ominous, lingering like a cloying and uncomfortable mist on a filthy street.

To say that she was shocked by his words would be an understatement. Just the night prior Byron had expounded on his plans to purchase a small holding in the nearby country- far enough away from the city and immersed in an area more familiar with the Other than human to ensure a low and feasible cost- that he intended to make a home for her and Cassie. A man who spoke of a future as such surely didn't harbour secret designs to abruptly end his relationship with the woman he had been courting. Surely?

"I-I don't understand," Izzy said, for lack of anything else. A hard knot had formed in her throat, burning as if she had swallowed a lump of blazing coal. She wanted to wail and scream, to demand that he stay with her and revoke those awful words, to beg him to love her... but she refrained with everything that it took her, hoping that perhaps she had misheard or misunderstood.

"No," he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't suppose you would." The words were tinged with bitterness and she rather thought they were directed at her. Byron stiffened, and then uncurled his body and rose to his feet. He was tall and lean, with sharply pronounced features that would eventually smooth out with age, but right then Izzy found him achingly unpleasant to look at. "This..." he gestured between them. "Us. It's over, Izzy. I cannot continue as before, and I believe we should go our separate ways."

He straightened the lapels of his coat, nodded at her once, and then made to leave, brushing past her with not a word more.

The blatant dismissal tore at her, leaving her composure shattered and barren. She pivoted towards him, a hand stretching out almost desperately for the contact of him, for the touch and feel of him- anything to make her understand more of what was unfolding that caused her heart to splinter and crack. "Wait!" she cried, stumbling forward. "Wait, please!"

Byron hesitated, his back to her, right before her door. He didn't turn, but he had stopped, and for now she took solace in that small act.

"Why?" Izzy asked, her voice breaking. "I am not sure why you have come to this decision and I fear the unknown may end me. Have... have I displeased you?"

The silence that lingered between them was torturous. Finally, he said, "You must leave it at this, Izzy."

"Byron, I cannot!" She moved then, placing herself between him and the door. She stared up into his face imploringly, hoping that she could affect the unerring hardness of his gaze and jaw as he considered her. "Please, you owe me an explanation at the very least!"

He frowned at her severely, and Izzy thought he may very well refute her, but then his shoulders sagged slightly and he ran a hand through his mussed brown locks. "It has nothing to do with you," he began, and then hesitated. "Well, it has everything to do with you, but not in the way you think. Our relationship must end because it is stipulated in an agreement I have made with your benefactor, Lord Grant."

Izzy bristled at the mere mention of his name. Ever since she had become part of the company, Lord Grant had been a thorn in her backside. The man was inconceivably conceited, and far too forward. On more than one occasion, he had approached her after her show and insisted that she entertain him personally, to which she had declined. Not only was he years her senior, but there was a leer in his gaze whenever he stared upon her that made her skin crawl. She had raised her ire of the insistent lord to Byron on numerous accounts, so the news that he was somehow a business ally to the man was startling.

"Lord Grant?" Izzy recoiled. "What does he have to do with anything?"

At that, Byron seemed to grow incensed. He raked an agitated hand through his hair again, looking at her as if she were a veritable stranger so condemning was the expression darkening his gaze. "He has everything to do with it!" Byron snarled. "He is a generous benefactor to the company that employs you- without his contributions, you could be without a position! Not only that but his influence stretches far and wide. Any person as his connection could stand to benefit financially and socially."

It dawned on her then, the crux of the matter, and bile rose to burn the back of throat and churn the empty contents of her stomach. "So, I take it he is a generous benefactor to you, too?" The bitterness of her tone couldn't be helped, even if it made the man before her rear in anger.

"He owns you, Izzy!"

"No." She shook her head, stepping backwards. "I am not a commodity."

"You are incredibly naive to believe anything else," Byron gritted out.

Suddenly the notion that the man she had harboured such deep feelings for was prone to place wealth above all else made her gut churn with a bout of sickness that threatened to overwhelm her. She stared up at him as if she didn't know him, as if he was a veritable stranger- and she supposed right then that he was, for she hadn't truly known him if these were the actions that drove his character.

"You have chosen to end this relationship in favour of wealth?" She needed the actual words from his lips to finally confirm her suspicions, to allow her the conclusion she needed to hopefully place Byron from her heart.

"You make it sound deplorable." He visibly grimaced.

"How much?" she hissed, suddenly furious. "How much am I worth?"

She thought that maybe he wouldn't answer her, but Byron surprised her when he said, with a tone of resignation, "A business opportunity... I would be assured financial success for the future, with contacts and allies in higher circles than I. It is more than I could ever want- I would be a fool not to accept his offer. It is my only regret that Lord Grant stipulated that all ties must be cut with you."

Words eluded her- for truly, she had been bought. It struck her dumb, that knowledge and realisation, and she hardly noticed when Byron sidled past her, taking her leave. And Izzy hardly thought she cared right then, certainly not more than the fact that she had been passed about as a piece of chattel, sold to the highest bidder, and the revulsion at the notion mingled with a simmering fury.

Before she knew what she was about, she had donned a coat and went to seek out her 'generous benefactor'.

***

Kaede's arms tightened around her waist, the anger on her behalf as she relayed the sordid story from her past burning through him. She had been young and resilient, so very alone yet determined to carve a name and a place for herself and her sister, only to be brought to her knees by the people she trusted.

"I'm so sorry, Iz." He nuzzled her temple, the locks of her hair tangling with the bristly stubble of the beard beginning to grow against his chin. "Lord Grant-"

She made a scoffing noise, waving her fingers in a move of curt dismissal. "Is a vile man. He wanted exclusive access to me, and Byron posed a problem." She turned to glance at him over her shoulder, her eyes vibrant and resolute. "I didn't allow it, of course, so his investment with Byron obviously had no lucrative returns. I parted ways with the company shortly after. There were other ways to make a living as a thespian- I didn't need to assign loyalty here or there, and perhaps this made me more available for hire. Well, either way, it certainly seemed to work."

He was proud of her, he couldn't deny those feelings at least, but he hated that she had endured the strife alone. Even if he had encountered difficulties in his youth, his brother was always at his side, and later the other Beastkeepers. In that respect, he rather thought Izzy was the strongest of individuals he had ever come across. "And Lord Grant didn't attempt to prevent you once you denied him?"

The horse was ambling slowly down a narrow alleyway- a solitary lamp at the very end illuminating a building with a front terrace covered in lush green vines that snaked up the stone-brick walls. "Stop here," Izzy ordered, and then she was swinging her leg over the saddle and sliding off the mount, her heels landing on the sidewalk with a loud clack. She glanced up at him, her face tilted to the side and he knew she was mulling something over, especially since her next words sounded distracted. "Of course he did, but he held little sway over my actions. He was merely a benefactor, after all. He offered me more money, then when that didn't work, he threatened me outright. But I was quick to leave the company, and my acquaintances with the guards ensured I was safe for the time being- or until Lord Grant grew bored of the chase, which he inevitably did." Izzy plunked her hands on her hips, her eyes tracking his movements as he dismounted and came to stand before her. She jerked her chin towards the door of the vine-covered building. "I am going in there- it is a club, of sorts. I know it looks deceiving, but that's the entire point. Only select clientele are allowed entrance- through invite only, or at the behest of an esteemed member." She inhaled deeply and then expelled the breath, as if preparing herself for what she would say next. "Kaede, you need to wait out here for me."

Like hell he would. 

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A/N

A very happy, belated birthday to this beautiful soul @PrincipesaPCY ! I know I didn't manage to update on time last Friday :( but there will be two updates today to make up for it! Your support means the world to me!

Loves,

Ash x