Chapter 12
The polished oak doors swung inward. Noah strode within, and he wished no one would hear the loud thumping of his heart. He scanned the table.
The Fleet Commander, Kane Dawson, looked bored and irritated, as if the meeting was a hassle to his tight schedule. Noah suppressed a snort. Since when had Kane ever loved meetings?
The Finance Director was absent, and so was the Assistant Chief of the Naval Staff. Not surprising. It wasn't even a surprise when they asked him to come at 6 PM, when most of the staff would already be leaving or had left.
Noah ignored the Second Sea Lord's curious gaze. Of all the people here, Sir Robert Cowley was the least person he wanted to be interrogated with. Too curious, too suspicious. He wouldn't believe any lies.
"Have a seat, Commander," First Sea Lord Sir Lucius Bailey gestured at the empty seat with a smile. Tall, lean as a panther. Just as dangerous, both in mind and combat prowess.
A room with three of the most important individuals in the Royal Navy.
A den of jackals who were likely waiting for him to commit a mistake and devour him.
Noah saluted, crisp and brief, and settled into the blood-red plush leather seat. A tea kettle steamed near him, the remaining tea cup untouched. Reserved for him, no doubt, but he didn't move from his seat, keeping his gaze firmly on the table, hands folded on his lap.
"You are not going to drink?" Sir Lucius asked.
Noah shook his head. "No, sir." No elaboration, only what he needed to say.
The First Sea Lord shrugged, and took a sip of his tea. He set down his cup, dabbing at his lips with a pristine white napkin. "So, how have you been, Noah?"
"As well as I could be, sir."
"And Devonport?"
"I believe I sent reports last month pertaining to the status of Devonport."
"Oh, yes." Sir Lucius slid a light stack of documents from his right. Noah caught a glimpse of his own signature. The First Sea Lord scanned the pages briefly. "Yes, of course. I've read it. However, it does seem, ah, incomplete, shall we say?"
Noah did his best to keep himself from swallowing the lump in his throat. He was not liking the keen interest that Sir Lucius was directing at him. "Incomplete, sir?"
"Oh, yes. Though I won't blame you. I tend to forget things sometimes nowadays." Sir Lucius sighed. "It comes with age, unfortunately."
The First Sea Lord wasn't even past fifties, and he wasn't known to be showing signs of his age. Noah even heard that Sir Lucius was active in certain activities that the admiral's wife definitely didn't know about.
A bait. But he wouldn't take it.
"How old are you again?" Sir Lucius asked.
"44, sir."
"Of course. One of the youngest to become a naval base commander as well."
"You appointed me, sir."
Sir Lucius's teeth flashed as he smiled. "Yes. You fit the criteria, after all. Young, intelligent, honorable. Honest."
The last word stabbed at Noah's heart. He didn't respond, choosing to dip his head in silent acknowledgement while trying to calm his racing heart. His hands trembled, so he clenched them beneath the table, out of sight.
Sir Lucius continued, "And your personnel, the men working under you, they must admire you dearly because of those qualities."
"Only the men can attest to that, sir."
"Of course, of course." He swiped another document. It wasn't one Noah recognized. "They don't seem to have any complaints regarding your leadership." He paused. "In fact, I'd even say they want to help you improve upon your skills, no? For instance, completing your report."
Noah stared blankly at the First Sea Lord while cursing with his mind. Whoever revealed what had happened last year in Devonport, they were going to die.
Sir Lucius scanned the document. "So this is a follow-up report from one of your dock workers. It says here that you brought a girl of about 13 years of age, blonde, about 5 feet below in height, to see the vessels. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir." Noah didn't bother correcting the information about Elizabeth's age, but neither could he deny the rest of the report. Who the bloody hell babbled about the visit?
"There's more. It also says here that an unnatural event occurred. A freak accident, if you will. A construction material fell on top of Miss Elizabeth. Is that correct?"
"Is this an interrogation, Sir Lucius?" Noah asked calmly. He was damning himself for it, and possibly the girls' safety, but mind games weren't a favorite hobby of his. He needed to know what this meeting was really all about.
The First Sea Lord's glinted as he chuckled. "An interrogation? Dear me, Noah, of course not! This is just a little… gentlemen's meeting. The Navy Board just wants to smooth out a few discrepancies. I'm sure you understand."
He did, and he also understood that if they wanted to, either the SBS or SAS, or both, would have already stormed the manor.
"I do, sir." He did his best to keep his voice from trembling. "To answer your question, yes, all of them are true. But the steel block didn't fell on her; it fell next to her."
"The report says otherwise."
"A misconception. It happened so swift that those who saw it possibly thought they were seeing things."
Sir Lucius regarded him for a moment. Noah met his gaze, hoping that it was enough to show his sincerity. Somehow, it worked, and the First Sea Lord nodded.
"And the report from Stonehouse that Miss Elizabeth is suffering from hallucinations when patrols found her by the shore?" Sir Lucius pulled yet another sheet of paper.
"Was. She was cleared after a week."
"Yes. This medical report did say that. But it's a curious thing, isn't it? Why would a girl think of herself as a warship?"
Three pairs of eyes homed in on Noah, and he was glad that he was seated or else the pressure from their inquisitive gazes would have sent him to his knees. Choosing his words carefully, he replied, "She is a prodigy in history, sir. She loves warships. Royal Navy warships. The doctor said it must have affected her mind. A trauma."
"Ah, I see. Poor girl!" The First Sea Lord shook his head. "Is that why you adopted her?"
"I just took pity on her, sir."
"Because she's an orphan. It says here that she lost her father in a storm."
"The same storm that brought her to Devonport, apparently." Before Sir Lucius could continue, Noah pressed on. "There was no sign of the yacht. We searched everywhere for a hundred miles. We believed it was carried away by the current."
Sir Lucius nodded. "A tragedy, indeed."
The questions didn't stop there, however. And for the next ten minutes, Noah was bombarded with enquiries about her health, how she was coping with the loss of her father, whether she had accepted the Dallimores as her new family.
Sir Lucius was thorough—a skill acquired from his days interrogating pirates. Neither Sir Robert nor Vice-Admiral Kane spoke, content with listening and nodding when appropriate. But Noah wasn't fooled by their silence. They were formulating their opinions and theories in their minds, no doubt.
Noah didn't deny about Warspite and Valiant. Doing that would raise suspicion. But he did say they were also orphans. Hopefully, the Navy Board wouldn't see past that lie.
"I see," Sir Lucius spoke after his last question. He shuffled some documents. Noah let out a weary sigh. Were there still more? "So Elizabeth is doing fine with her adopted sisters?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is that why you're adopting more?"
The question wasn't unexpected, but it still took Noah more than a few seconds to respond. "I do not understand the question, sir," he said, and meant it. There were no records of him adopting the Revenge sisters, nor did he ever plan to.
"A group of girls were seen entering your manor and staying there," Sir Robert spoke for the first time.
"They are Elizabeth's friends."
Sir Robert's eyes glinted. "If they are, shouldn't they be in London to visit her? Yet they came to your manor. And at night too."
"Are you implying something, Sir Robert?" Noah asked softly. He wasn't liking where the conversation was heading.
Sir Lucius raised a hand in a placating manner. "Peace, Commander. I assure you, we aren't implying anything. We simply want to know the truth."
"We know your history with your father," Commander Kane added flatly. "We only want to be assured that the girls, or any other people you know, are safe from harm and—"
The memories, long buried and forgotten, swam from the depths of darkness. The terrible pain of his fists, the ceaseless shouting, the coldness of damp nights in the toilet.
"I am not my father!"
The room fell silent. Blood still roared in Noah's ears, his hands trembling. He drew a deep breath, cursing himself. He shouldn't have lost control like that.
Sir Lucius cleared his throat. "Calm down, Commander Noah," he said gently. "Please, why don't you take a sip of tea?"
Noah inhaled another lungful of air, and nodded. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching toward the kettle to pour himself a cup. The chamomile was quite bitter, but Noah hardly noticed. It wasn't strong enough to quell the storm in his mind.
He set the cup down, then rested his palms firmly on the table, silent and waiting. His heart was still racing. The Navy Board observed him for a minute, then Sir Lucius asked, "Are you calm enough now to continue?"
Noah wasn't, but the longer he lingered in this bloody room, the less likely he would calm down. He nodded.
Sir Lucius flashed another one of his smiles. "Rest assured, Commander, this is our last question." He read another report. "Another girl was found who claimed to be another warship. Is this true?"
"Yes, sir." Noah almost growled in his response. "She was cleared from Stonehouse three days later."
He waited for another question, another enquiry, but none came. And the silence was more terrifying than the questions themselves.
Sir Lucius nodded. "I see. Very well, that will be all, Commander. Thank you for giving us your time."
Despite the chill creeping along his spine, Noah rose to his seat and saluted. As he left, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread tightening its grip around his heart.
Did his answers just made everything worse?
###
He didn't return to Devonport for the next three days.
The men had not reappeared since his meeting with the Navy Board, but worry still gnawed his mind. Every day, every hour, he would peer beyond the windows, scanning the streets for anything suspicious. But his fears never materialized.
It didn't stop the nightmares, however. The long nights of waking up in the dark, hearing the sounds of crashing timber that weren't there. Phantoms. He almost chased them, was almost certain that men with assault rifles were bursting through the doors, intent on taking the girls away.
He didn't sleep much. And every morning brought the same fears, the same nagging feeling that they were being watched until the right moment when greedy claws would tear apart the manor.
"You need to return to Devonport," Drake said during breakfast on the fourth morning of his ceaseless vigil. Her eyes were filled with concern.
"Tomorrow." He had the paperworks mailed to him yesterday, so there was no point going back. Not yet.
She sighed. "That's what you said yesterday. If you don't return soon, they will suspect even more."
As if the Navy Board wasn't already suspicious enough. Staying behind wouldn't matter, especially if they were already convinced by his answers.
His silence deepened Drake's frown, but thankfully she didn't press on. He took a sip of his tea, and the rich flavor lessened the pounding in his skull. Somewhat.
A plan. He had to think of one. It was only a matter of time before the entire Admiralty—bloody hell, even the government—caught wind of the truth. And he would be powerless to stop them. After all, he was only one rear-admiral against people who could strip him off his rank.
What if he wasn't alone?
He lowered his teacup, his mind jolted as if by an electricity. He needed allies—people he could trust. His family was one, including the girls. And there was Brian. But he needed more. People he could trust to protect the reborn warships.
The men under his command no longer passed that criteria. The Navy Board surely had informants embedded among them. His only chance was outside Devonport.
He rose from his seat, ignoring Drake's confusion as he strode to the phone. A quick dial sent the line ringing, and he only had to wait a minute before there was a response.
"Admiral Edward Loughty's office. Who's this?"
It was strange how eerily similar this situation was, when Noah had called Edward just a few months ago. And now he was going to take a gamble.
He took a deep breath, then said, "Eddie, this is Noah. We need to talk."
###
Elizabeth's frown reflected on the mirror as she inspected herself. The black skater dress was nice and simple, but it made her look quite childish than she already looked. And besides, she didn't like how the color clashed with her blonde locks.
No, not this one. She threw it aside and grabbed a blue shirt and a matching white skirt, pressing them over her body. Much simpler, but at least it fit with the occasion. And she could just wear a jacket if it got cold in the restaurant.
Satisfied, she folded them and set them back inside the drawer, then sat at the bed, reaching for the red greeting card on the side table. Written inside in black ink, the script elegant and flawless, were the words "Happy Birthday!"
Heat suffused her cheeks. There was no name save for a large "E", but it was obvious who had left it at the table she frequented in the café.
This was the fifth time she had read it, and as she collapsed on the bed, a faint smile tugged at her lips. Evans must have overheard them earlier when her sisters greeted her for her birthday. He hadn't spoken to her, not since their last encounter. But she didn't mind. In a few days, they would meet again.
A date. She was going on a date. By rights it should be a strange concept; she was a warship, and such a mundane human activity was unknown to her. And yet the warmth in her chest wasn't unfamiliar. That… attraction was a feeling she knew too well.
Memories, the collective minds of those who had been with her—from her conception to her construction, to the hopes and prayers and dreams of those who relied on her. Drake said it could be the reason why being a human didn't feel as shocking for them as it should have been.
And that included all of humanity's emotions. Their desires. Their love. Their desire to love and be loved. Even if that love wouldn't bear fruit.
Her eyebrows met. Some part of her hesitated because of that. She was never going to be a mother, and if Evans learned that, he might very well lose interest in her. Humans, after all, possessed the urge to reproduce.
But did that truly matter? If that was all the basis of why love existed, then why love at all?
She sighed and glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes past 7 PM. Her sisters would be arriving soon, and she had to prepare dinner. Taking one last look at the greeting card, she set it back on the side table and sprang to her feet.
She had to finish her preparations before Noah called.
###
Sunday arrived before she knew it. And as the morning sunlight broke through the window, Elizabeth took a deep breath.
Today she was going on a date. A date!
Her heart drumming with excitement, she leapt to her feet. Evans said he would pick her up at eight—less than an hour from now. She still had time to prepare.
Breakfast. Or maybe she should just wait? No, that wouldn't be good for the stomach. Perhaps a light meal. They would eat lunch at the restaurant he mentioned, but surely that was not the first place they would go to.
By 7:37, she was dressed and ready. There was a knock on the door, and she rushed to open it. She halted behind the door, one hand on the knob, her heart pounding. But it was only a moment's hesitation.
Taking a deep breath, she opened it with a wide smile.
Valiant blinked. "Oh, good. You're already dressed." She strode past her. "Warspite went out for a moment, but she'll be back soon." She sat on the couch.
Elizabeth closed the door. Valiant's attire was almost similar to hers, but with a sweatshirt over her top. Was she meeting someone too?
Before she could ask her sister, another knock sounded. She spun and opened the door, the corner of her lips tilting upward as Evans's smile greeted her.
"Hey," he said. His eyes rove over her for a moment, taking all of her in.
Elizabeth swallowed. She should have bought something fancy, but there had been little time. Hopefully, her current attire would do. "Hey."
When he finished scanning her from head to toe, he said softly, "You look… great."
Heat flooded her cheeks. "So are you." Indeed, his cotton jacket seemed to fit nicely into him. His hair was combed, and a sweet scent surrounded him like a cloud. It reminded her of a field of jasmine. She could inhale that scent all day long.
He chuckled. "I actually think I'm underdressed." He looked past her, his chin dipping. "Hi there, Valerie."
Valiant didn't reply.
"Ready to go?" he asked, offering his hand.
She took it without hesitation.
###
Their first destination was an ice skating ring.
Elizabeth was glad she wore a jacket, and regretted that she chose a skirt over a trouser. It was bloody freezing here!
"You should have told me sooner that we'd be going here," she grumbled.
"Sorry!" Evans rubbed the back of his head as they neared the equipment racks. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
Thank God they were offering some woolen stockings that fitted Elizabeth's legs nicely. And they were thick enough that the cold no longer bothered her.
Evans led her to one of the skating rings that weren't too crowded. Elizabeth eyed it. She had not done this before, and judging by the others' splendid display of falling on their butts spectacularly, neither had they.
"You'll be fine." Evans was already fitting his second skating boot. "I'll keep you from falling."
He rose to his feet, balancing easily on the ice. Not even the tiniest wobble. He must have been doing this since forever.
Filling her lungs with air, Elizabeth latched onto his warm hands and slid toward him. She looked down at her feet. Her legs trembled, threatening to slip under her.
"Easy. Easy," Evans said gently. "Keep your feet close. Yes, that's it. Just hold on to me." They drifted toward the center. "Good. You're doing just fine, Liz."
Evans's voice was soothing to her mind, but somehow, the feeling of sliding against ice didn't feel unusual. The angle of her feet, the right amount of pressure she needed to apply, the balance of her body—she knew it all.
And she loved it. She loved the way she glided smoothly over the ice, as easily as her hull had sliced through the waves. She loved the giddiness that overtook her as she spun and swerved, weaving invisible figures beneath her feet, going round and round the ring.
Then Evans was beside her, and his amused smile sent her heart fluttering. He grabbed her hand, the heat of his palm scorching in hers. "I thought this was your first time?" he asked.
"It is." She didn't know how, but the information was simply there in her head, like knowledge buried but not forgotten.
"You're a natural then. The first time I skated, I fell off my arse every five seconds."
She couldn't help but giggle. The sight of Evans, confident and at ease Evans, falling on the ice was just absurd to imagine.
"Hey, don't laugh." What an endearing pout.
As her giggles subsided, she smiled up at him. "Tell me."
"About what?"
"About the first time you skated. About the first time you fell on your arse." He groaned, and she chuckled.
He told her. And for the next ten minutes they glided together as he began a tale of a child learning how to skate on ice, and the many failures he went through before he won his town's ice hockey tournament.
Afterwards, they rested by the railings, watching the people drifted and zoomed. "You stopped playing after that?" she asked him.
Evans nodded. "Pop wanted me to try different hobbies. Lots of hobbies, in fact. Horseback riding, fencing, even chess." He snorted. "You'd think I was a genius or some such."
She detected a hint of resentment in his tone, but didn't press him. It would be rude, and she didn't want to plague their date with dark thoughts.
"And you?" He stared at her curiously. "I keep hearing you're always top of your class."
"Not without help, especially yours."
"I've only helped you twice, Liz."
She fell silent, gazing ahead, ignoring his that was fixed on her. How much could she tell him without revealing her secret? Would he even believe that she could read an entire book in less than a day?
He took her hand, and she glanced at him in surprise.
"Next destination?" he asked with a smile.
###
Elizabeth eyed the target carefully. At fifteen feet away, there was a chance of her missing; the pellet gun was too small, even for her hands, the ammunition even smaller. No targeting systems, no radar.
Just her eyes and her judgement.
She pulled the trigger, and the plastic bowling pin toppled to its doom. The second and third ones followed shortly after.
She smirked, glancing sideways at her opponent. Evans's lips were forming a perfect "O", and the sight nearly sent her exploding with laughter.
"Guess I win," she said, accepting the prize bag from the amazed elderly man. 9 to 5 in her favor. It was not even a contest.
"H-How did you do that?" he blurted, his initial confidence absent. He never lost a match, he told her earlier. And while Elizabeth had believed him, she took it as a challenge.
After all, she fired way larger guns before.
She shrugged. "Beginner's luck, perhaps?" She stepped aside to allow the next customers a chance at the prize, and opened the prize bag. It was a pink stuffed cat.
Elizabeth smiled, already planning where she would put it on her room. Perhaps on her side table where she would see it every time she woke, and before going to bed.
"It's cute," Evans said. Something flickered in his eyes, an emotion that Elizabeth could not identify. He hesitated, then said, "Wait. I'll be back in ten minutes."
He hurried away before she could speak. What was that about? Frowning, Elizabeth took a seat on the nearby stool, watching the contenders. Many failed to shoot the three pins, though a few lucky ones managed to win their prizes.
Seven minutes later, there was a tap on her shoulder. She spun around—and faced a stuffed brown bear. Evans grinned from behind it.
"That one is cute, but I was thinking you need a bigger friend to cuddle with when you're alone," he said.
Heat suffused her cheeks, and she took it with a faint smile. "Thank you. He's lovely." It was almost half her size, but soft to the touch and fluffy.
"A lovely bear for a lovely lady."
Elizabeth's heart skipped, and she buried her nose into the bear's neck, hoping it was enough to hide her cheeks that she was sure was as red as a tomato.
"What are you going to name him?" he asked.
She thought for a moment, and decided to tease him a little. Her eyes met his. "Well, Evans sounds a very cute name."
He arched an eyebrow at that, amusement dancing in those alluring eyes of his. "So you're going to cuddle with Evans?"
Her lips curved. "Perhaps, whenever I'm lonely."
"And the cat?"
"Lizzie." Her mouth twitched, but she maintained her expression.
"Lizzie and Evans," he mused. "Wonderful pair."
She rose to her feet, averting her gaze and glancing at her watch. "It's almost lunch."
He looked startled to hear that. "Well, shall we?" He offered his arm, and without hesitation, Elizabeth hooked hers with it, clutching Evans the Bear and Lizzie the Cat with the other.
###
The food was indeed less expensive, and Elizabeth found herself enjoying it far more than the ones she ate on the first restaurant Evans had taken her to.
The café was one of many hugging the shore of the River Thames. They chose a table close to the riverfront and open to the sky, giving them a full view of the calm waters. In the distance, she could barely see HMS Belfast's mast bobbing in the river. When time permitted, she would visit the light cruiser to pay tribute.
While they ate, Evans entertained her with his life back in Wales. His childhood, he revealed with a sigh, was spent almost entirely in studying and whatever hobbies his parents shoved to him. Very rarely could he do what he wanted: to be an artist.
That surprised Elizabeth. She didn't take him to be the artistic type, even though his mind was creative and active. "You don't look like you paint," she said after swallowing a slice of blue marlin.
He shrugged. "I no longer paint."
"No longer, or was forced to stop?"
She paused when his eyes lowered for a moment, and she stared at him with sympathy. "They can't control your life, Evans."
"No," he said slowly, a touch of resentment lacing his voice. "But it's a distraction. I need to focus on my studies." He smiled faintly. "Besides, I do enjoy learning about business."
But it was clear that business and arts were not the only things he enjoyed. She listened intently as he recounted his days as a young equestrian, and while it only lasted for a year, the way his eyes gleamed when he talked about his white stallion, Shadowfax, sent Elizabeth's heart beating fast.
He looked more handsome when he was excited.
Elizabeth was content with just listening, which Evans didn't seem to mind. Not once did he press her about her personal life, but he did ask her how she felt living and studying in London.
"It was different from Basingstroke," she admitted. "And though I have my sisters with me, I still miss home."
He nodded. "So do I. You must have a wonderful family."
"Oh, certainly! My sister is an excellent chef. You have to taste Eli's beef stew someday."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that an invitation?" he asked with a small grin.
"Maybe," she said, her lips curving upward.
'And your parents? Wouldn't they be against you bringing home a boy you've only met last month?"
He was teasing her, she knew. But it was still a question that needed to be answered. She shook her head. "We're adopted." Evans's eyes widened. Elizabeth chuckled. "Our father died during an accident in our yacht."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's all right. I've accepted it, so does my sisters. Besides, Elisa is a great sister to us. And my brother, Noah…"
Her smile faltered. Noah didn't call her. She waited until midnight, but the phone didn't ring even once. She tried calling the manor the following morning, but it was Revenge who answered with a simple, "Noah's busy."
Not Commander, which was what Revenge used to call him. Just Noah.
"Liz?"
Elizabeth blinked. "Ah, sorry. I just remembered something. It's… not important." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, my brother is even more wonderful. He's a Rear-Admiral, and he is the most kind and compassionate individual you'd ever meet."
"It seems you also have a brother you adore," he said, chuckling. "Perhaps he and Jonathan would get along."
"He's in Wales, right?"
"Yes. And I would love for you to meet him someday."
It was her turn to grin. "Is that an invitation?"
"Yes."
Elizabeth blinked at the swift reply. Evans looked serious. Was he really? She searched for the words to respond, but her tongue seemed to fail. Why was it so difficult to say yes or no? It was just an invitation to see his home, his family. Surely, there was no harm in that.
"It's all right if you're busy," he said after a minute of silence between them. "I'm not in a hurry. And it's not even school break yet."
At last she found her voice. Taking a deep breath, she said, "This is our first date, Evans. I don't think it's appropriate for me to see your family so quickly."
Surprisingly, he nodded in understanding. "I know. And I promise there's nothing to it. I just want you to see my life, learn who I am."
"Why?"
"Because I want to do the same with you." His gaze met hers, and she saw no malice in his beautiful eyes, only sincerity that made her heart do a tap dance. She could look at his eyes all day and never get tired of them.
She smiled faintly. "I live a mundane life. You won't find it as exciting as yours." It wasn't a lie; though she possessed unnatural strength and endurance, and memories of her past, there was nothing noteworthy to learn about her current life. She was just a simple girl.
"Maybe you just don't find it exciting," he said. "But that doesn't mean it isn't. I could say the same about myself, but you listened to my ramblings."
"Because you are interesting, unlike me." Reincarnated warship she may be, but that was all she had; past glories and failures from an old conflict. They would never be as good as Evans's achievements or as fascinating as his hobbies.
"You are interesting to me."
She looked away, wishing he hadn't said that. It only made everything more complicated.
Or was it? Perhaps she was being too hard on herself, and him as well. She sighed, and faced him once more.
"We'll see."
She expected disappointment. But the sight of his verdant eyes sparkling in relief and delight made her wish she had said yes.
###
They visited other places after their lunch—another carnival where Evans finally won against her.; an arcade where she won against him in a game of Ping-Pong; a flower shop where he bought a bouquet of carnations for her.
The sun was setting when they returned to Sunny Lodge. How fast time flew, Elizabeth thought as they strolled toward the entrance. She would have wanted to see more of London, but he told her he still had classes the next day. And so did she, in fact.
They stopped outside the door to the lodging. Elizabeth took another whiff of the bouquet. She had to place the carnations somewhere with sunlight. The windows of her bedroom, thankfully, faced the morning sun.
She looked at Evans with a smile. "Thank you. I enjoyed our date."
"So did I." Evans stuck his hands into his pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"
She nodded. There was no going back now. If she would live her life as a human, she would enjoy everything about it. "Breakfast at the café?"
He smiled. "Sure." He hesitated, then carefully asked, "Liz, may I kiss you?"
She stiffened, her heart pounding so loud she could hear it. A kiss. She had never been kissed before, and a part of her wanted to decline. The part that was afraid of connections, afraid of someone learning who she was and thinking she was some terrible entity to be shunned.
But there was also a part that wanted to know what it felt like to be just a normal girl, a normal human doing normal things. And that part swept over the other like a wave.
"You may," she murmured, meeting his gaze. No reluctance.
He was taller than her by at least a foot and a half, forcing him to bend forward and leaned toward her face, so close that his beautiful eyes were clearer to see. She parted her lips slightly, waiting for that warmth and thrill she knew was coming.
And then his lips pressed softly on her cheek, his hot breath tickling her right ear. "Have a good night, Liz," he whispered.
She couldn't respond. Somehow her body had frozen, but instead of an icy chill, a fire sprang inside her, and her legs nearly buckled under her at the sheer intensity of it.
Evans pulled away, and it was suddenly cold. "Ha-Have a good night too," she said in a weak voice, clutching the bouquet to her chest.
With another smile, he stepped back, retreating while his gaze remained on her, as if he was delaying every second to leave. But at last he turned and walked away.
Elizabeth could have stayed there like a statue, but it was indeed getting colder. She finally entered the flat, each step taking her to her room, each second replaying the memory of Evans's lips on her cheek and the heat that came with it.
What would it feel like to feel that heat on her lips?
Her pace quickened. No. No. She barely knew him, and it would really be improper and inappropriate if they immediately proceeded to that level of intimacy. They hadn't even known each for more than a month!
When she reached her door, she was surprised that her face hadn't burned yet. She fumbled for the knob, twisting it and nearly breaking it in her haste. A shower. She required a cold shower.
"Oh good. You are finally back," Valiant greeted.
Elizabeth's heart nearly leapt out of her throat. "Valiant?" And not just her. Warspite sat beside her on the couch. But while Warspite looked nervous, Valiant was smiling sweetly.
Too sweetly.
"What beautiful flowers!" Valiant stared at the bouquet with disdain. "Did Evans give it to you?"
"A late birthday gift."
"You must have a wonderful date," she crooned, crossing her arms. "Where did you two go?"
Elizabeth didn't feel like answering her. Something was wrong with Valiant. But Warspite seemed to be waiting for her response. So Elizabeth told them briefly where they went and what they did. And as she finished, Warspite's expression turned crestfallen.
Valiant, on the other hand, was sneering as she asked, "Were those really the only ones you did?"
The implication wasn't lost on Elizabeth. "What? Why would you think that!"
"Oh, I don't know," Valiant drawled. "Maybe because you've been preaching to Warspite about the importance of being careful around Watson while here you are dallying with someone you just met less than a month ago."
All at once, the giddy feeling in Elizabeth's heart evaporated. "I'm not preaching and I'm certainly not dallying with Evans! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
"You promised to celebrate our birthdays today," Valiant said, deadly quiet.
"I never said that." Her voice rose. "All I said was for you two to enjoy your birthdays without me."
"Unbelievable!" Valiant glanced at Warspite. "When you start dating Watson, please don't be like this idiot."
"Or maybe you are the idiot!" Elizabeth said. Valiant's head whipped to her. Warspite looked distress, and it broke Elizabeth's heart to see her torn expression, but the fury inside her was hotter. "Maybe you are jealous because we could find someone to pay attention to, people who like us, while all you have are fake friends who are just using you to do their assignments!"
"Elizabeth!" Warspite cried desperately.
Valiant stood, her eyes veiled by a terrible storm. Elizabeth met her gaze with defiance as she approached. She clutched something in her hand, but Elizabeth hardly paid any attention to it. Perhaps some gift she bought without asking her.
When barely a foot separated them, Valiant shoved the package into her chest. "Next time, don't be a bloody hypocrite," she hissed.
Valiant strode past her, slamming the door on her way out of the room. Elizabeth looked at Warspite, who was already standing, her eyes misty. But no tears spilled from it. And perhaps it was better that way. Elizabeth wouldn't know what to do if she started crying.
"You promised to spend the day with us," Warspite murmured.
"I did—" And then she froze. Because she did promise, only now did she remember.
But… "I told Valiant that you two should go have fun even without me." Even as the words spilled from her mouth, Elizabeth knew it was a poor alibi.
Warspite merely shook her head in disappointment. As her sister left, Elizabeth set down the bouquet and stared at Valiant's gift, haphazardly wrapped, no doubt in her anger. With trembling fingers, Elizabeth tore it open.
And her body went cold.
It was a waterproof notebook.
So I got sick two weeks ago. Hence, why I only updated this now. But I'm doing really well now.
Anyway, DRAMA. Or at least my attempt at drama. I don't know how good it is. You guys will have to decide. 😅
But a bit of explanation. Very rarely do I see fanfics dealing with the interpersonal relationship of the QE sisters. And I want to focus n that in this part of the story, aside from Elizabeth's development.
Hopefully, it turns out good. But again, you guys be the judge. Feedback is really important to me, as it would help me improve further, not just as a fanfic author, but a published one as well.
Anyway, thank you for the support, as always.