I am so, so, so sorry for my lack of updates for so long. I get myself into these writing slumps and they last for months. I find it difficult to pull myself out of them, most of the time.

Anyway. This chapter will be a little bit different. Think of it as me trying to get back into the swing of things? For now, we get some characterization on the Donovan couple. The USUK goodness shall return next chapter :3

Read on~

Interlude.

Two Serpents and an Apple

Disgusting.

The stench of pigs, truly. Was this what their country had come to? The poor were like rats, reproducing incessantly and scurrying after the faintest crumbs. They were dirty, an eyesore, and who truly wanted them there? So, what better place was there to put them?

Nowhere better than the workhouses.

Patsy Donovan took her duties as Matron of the workhouse very, very seriously. She'd taken over a majority of the prayers sessions on Sundays, and took to disciplining the filth when her husband could not.

However. She could not very well show her feelings to anyone else, now could she?

That would be rash and careless. Oh, no. She and her husband had been appointed to this job especially, and she wasn't about to sabotage their luck. She considered herself something of a talented actress.

The rats feared her, truly, but she was never outwardly cruel to them. She was clever about it. Rather than beating them as her husband was wont to do, she preferred more subtle methods of punishment.

Perhaps it was having meals taken away or extra work hours added. But those were only the basics. And they truly didn't teach the lesson properly. So she had her own methods.

Words could be sharper than knives, if used properly. If the misdeed called for it, she could occasionally request her husband to allow her some time with the rat. And she would handle it flawlessly and skillfully, yet demurely, as a woman should. She would emerge from punishing a worker without a drop of sweat, blood, or filth on her person. However, most anyone she had time with was broken, and not in a way that would heal over time as her husband would do. Oh, he was harsh and cruel towards them when it came down to it, but he was so very lacking in vision. He had no vision for what he could do or what he was able to do.

So, the prayer sessions. Perhaps there was a hope for the souls of these creatures after all. That was why she did these things. The grace of God was powerful, after all. No being was more forgiving than he. Although - as devout as she was - she did have her doubts.

Because she was so strong about her faith, there were several things that irked her. Sodomites, for one. Damned and doomed from the beginning, they were. Filthiness itself deserved to be a sin; it was simply against nature for a human to resemble a primate so.

There was a third thing that irked her far more than the first two ever could. Liars. Being lied to was no better than having dung thrown in your face. It was rude, positively horrifying, and so disgusting and filthy.

She liked to think she could tell when she was being lied to. It was all in the eyes; the eyes showed weakness and anxiety, they were lying. Watch their body movements. If they were sweating and fidgeting as they spoke, they were lying. Listen to their voice. If their voice trembled and they paused often, then no surprise - they were lying.

There was one rat this didn't quite apply to.

That Arthur Kirkland. He had the perfect mask; it rarely ever cracked or shifted. His manner of speaking was more refined than the rest of them, too; he spoke like a gentleman brought up by a good family. But that was impossible! What would a gentleman be doing in a place of filth and refuse like the workhouses? It made no sense.

However, he lied. She was sure of it. No, he hadn't seen that Jones boy. He hadn't seen him since the night before, he said. She wanted to gnash her teeth and stop her feet, but that would be incredibly unladylike. And Patsy was far from unladylike.

She hadn't been sure at first, but her husband's mysterious obsession with those boys caused her to focus on them more than usual. She'd just been leaving the chapel, and had seen something that she couldn't quite believe, at first.

Alfred Jones and Arthur Kirkland, hand in hand. Two men, acting like lovers? Her fingers curled around her bible as if she thought it alone would ward off the horrid sight before her. So...that Arthur Kirkland had lied to her after all.

She whirled around in a storm of lace and skirts, marching down the halls and practically shoving workers out of the way as she went, leaving confusion and terror in her place.

"Oscar!" She hissed, sounding much like an undignified reptile before calming herself, allowing her eyes to meet her husband's.

"Dearest husband," She trilled, slinking towards him and putting her hands on his shoulders. Her actions were not unlike the serpent's that had tempted Eve to take the first bite of the fruit. Her eyes were twinkling with a strange, almost manic light.

"I think you know why I've come. See, it's the ones you've been worrying about. I think you shall have to crack down a bit harder on them, love. They'll need it." She kissed his cheek lightly, and he turned to face her, setting down the book he'd been reading and fixing his eyes on his whip for a long moment.

"What were you thinking, love?" He asked her, finally turning to her, his dark eyes meeting her equally dark ones.

She smiled. "No rotting flower of love between sodomites shall bloom here. Not in my workhouse. Not under my watch. I'll squash this bud, dearest. But I do fear I shall need your help."

Her husband turned and took her hand, kissing the back of it lightly.

"If my dear wife requests this of me," he smiled faintly, though his eyes remained as dark and indecipherable as ever, "who am I to deny her?"

Patsy could not hold in the childish giggle that escaped her in that moment.

Yes, it's short. But we get to see a little bit of what Patsy is feeling now. She's a somewhat pivotal character in her own right. Yes, she's an evil bitch, but hey. She was designed to be a villain, forgive me if she has little personality beyond that.

Just mostly wanted to show the connection between the two of them. It's not quite love, but something a little darker, I think...