A/N: Hi. So, for those of you who think this is a new chapter... it's not. XD Sorry. This is the first chapter split between two chapters instead. Realised after a lot of thinking that I didn't need to keep it altogether and make it over 10,000 words, especially as a big timeskip literally happens part way through. Still, I am currently in the process of writing out the next chapter, so hopefully that'll be done soon, especially as I'm aiming to keep my chapters as short as possible. This will mean I'll probably go over the chapter limit I originally set for myself. But... hey. As long as you guys can digest what I'm writing. XD I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has read and followed this story so far though. Wasn't expecting attention to be garnered so quickly for this, considering how quiet this fandom is over here. Don't know when the next chapter will be out, but as always, just keep an eye on my profile for active updates.

Chapter 2: Time and Trauma

When she was still alive, the passage of time was a concept Cordelia had naturally never given much thought. Yet upon her death, it became a theme she was unable to escape from, especially because of the constant changes that occurred to her surroundings and the living, changes that no longer affected her. While the other ghosts had paid little attention to the life of Heather Button and had gone about their own agendas throughout each waking day (due in part from Pat's influence with projecting his scout activities and routines onto them), it was only just now dawning upon Cordelia how much time she'd spent observing the late lady of the house to kill her boredom. Because of Heather's daily routines and schedules, Cordelia had become more aware of current events and dates in comparison to her housemates, with Heather's ninety-nine years on the earth helping to occupy her mind when other things simply could not. But from the moment Heather's body was removed from the Button Estate and the house became abandoned, Cordelia's grip on reality slipped the same way one would if they'd had a rug yanked from underneath their feet. No one from the living world visited, leaving her and the other ghosts that occupied the house to become its only invisible inhabitants.

In the following days since Heather's passing, Cordelia wandered aimlessly and alone through the empty corridors and rooms of the house's interior and across the wide empty fields of the house's grounds, only having the grandfather clocks to give her some estimate regarding the time of day. Daytime and night-time gradually began to blend, weeks became months, and soon she became reliant on the changing weather conditions to try to gauge how much time had truly passed. Before Cordelia knew it, she was re-entering the same routine she was in after she'd died, leading her to suspect she'd developed yet another form of the very thing that had plagued her ever since she'd first become a ghost: grief. But what or whom was she grieving for? Heather Button? Unlikely, she thought. It didn't change the fact that the lingering emptiness she'd felt all these years suddenly felt more intense, causing daytime trances while wandering into rooms Heather had frequently occupied and sleepless nights staring at the ceiling of her room (yes, ghosts could still sleep if they wanted to, apparently. And no, she did not understand the logic behind it either, much like the other things they could do). Meanwhile, the other ghosts acted as if every day was just a regular day at Button House for them, seeming unperturbed by Heather's absence and enjoying the tranquillity now that they had the house to themselves.

And on this particular day, from where she currently laid sprawled on her back across the side of the bed that faced the window within her sleeping quarters, Cordelia assumed it was just going to be another one of those days.

The ground floor bedroom at the back of the west wing that Cordelia had chosen to occupy was almost box-like, possessing bare white walls and wooden flooring that housed a double-sized, light and dark blue plaid covered and pillowed bed, a tall rectangular window with pulled back dark blue curtains and a small wooden, circular table with a matching armless chair beside it. Cordelia hadn't known who this room was initially supposed to be for, nor had she ever seen Heather or other visitors use it, especially because compared to the rest of Button House, this bedroom was unremarkable and cramped. But for someone like Cordelia? It was comfy and suited her just right, especially for when she wanted to hide away and be alone with her own thoughts undisturbed. After all, it was the only room on the ground floor that was at the far edge of the west wing, with only one corridor leading straight to it.

Focusing on the ceiling bathed in the mid-morning sun, the young blonde closed her eyes with a sharp intake of (non-existent) breath through her nostrils, waiting five seconds before she loudly exhaled through her mouth. She basked within the faint sounds she could hear through the deafening silence, such as the cooing of the pigeons outside, the occasional creaks and moans from the wooden floors outside of the room, the resounding tap of slightly heeled shoes approaching from her left—

'… Wait.'

Cordelia barely had time to open her eyes and process what was happening before the stern voice of the Captain spoke her name from the doorway, followed swiftly by the marching footsteps halting.

"Cordelia! Thought I'd find you in here!"

The blonde ghost's eyes drooped as she tilted her head to glance at the doorway, her blue eyes meeting with the combed silver hair and moustache that belonged to the man who looked to be around twenty years her senior standing with his arms tucked behind his back. She spied his black baton missing from where it was usually tucked under the left arm of the brown jacket that made up his World War 2 Army Officer's uniform, an item he'd had on him when he died. He was probably holding it behind his back, she thought.

"Captain," Cordelia eventually greeted through gritted teeth, continuing to speak while slowly pushing her body up into a sitting position. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

The Captain cocked a brow at detecting the hostility in Cordelia's tone, followed by the slight tilt of the head. "What's this now? Is that any way to speak to your commanding officer?"

"You are not my commanding officer, Captain," Cordelia answered with slightly pursed lips, placing her hands in her lap with the straightening of her back. "And even if you were, I am certain I have a right to speak in such a way to a gentleman who feels his sense of purpose greatly outweighs the suspension of simple manners." She saw the Captain's head briefly turn to the shut door behind him with a frown, causing Cordelia to huff and place a hand to her forehead. "And yes, I am well aware you do not have the capability to physically knock. Yet that is no excuse to not stop outside and politely enquire about entry."

There was a slight pause before the Captain cleared his throat and faced forward again. "Yes, well,"—he rolled his shoulders and bent his neck to the left, then straightened it again—"you should know that manners matter little in a state of emergency."

"A state of emergency?" Cordelia repeated with a squint, giving the Captain a look from head to toe as if to scrutinise his appearance. "I find that hard to believe."

"Why else would I have sought you out?" The Captain countered. "Forgive me for saying this, but you're…" He trailed off and raised a finger to his shirt collar to give it a light tug, breaking eye contact to look at the window while stumbling over his words; had it been possible, Cordelia would have guessed he'd be physically sweating buckets by now. "W-Well, you're not exactly… Uh… W-What I mean to say is…"

Cordelia's eyes narrowed further at his hesitation. "Do not try to sweeten the honey for my sake, Captain. I think we both know precisely what you want to say. So, you might as well just come out with it."

"Ahem!" The Captain cleared his throat again with a fist close to his mouth to regain his composure. "Yes, well, to put it simply, Cordelia… if you were a soldier in the army, you'd have been what we'd call a 'barrack-room barrister' and a 'skiver'." He shook his head. "But that does not change the fact that you are still a member of this unit as a resident of the upper floors, and thus are required to be consulted during emergency briefings."

Cordelia relaxed her expression with a blink and tilted her head to the side, naturally unfamiliar with those specific terms. She was used to the Captain's 'army' jargon, though, and she could easily tell by the stern tone and the curl of his upper lip that what he was calling her were supposed to be bad things. Hence her sarcastic response:

"I do not know what you just addressed me as, but it does not take a prodigy to deduce that you'd think me a disappointment should I have been assigned under an old man such as yourself."

At first, the Captain's brows furrowed at the last thing she'd said, appearing to be attempting to understand it. But the moment he gaped and stared as if she'd grown a second head, Cordelia allowed a small smirk to slip onto her lips, which widened with the slight raise of her chin when the Captain scowled. He understood what she'd done, and she couldn't help feeling proud of herself for that (especially as it was a term she'd heard many use with the Captain before).

"Oh, I see. Double meaning. Think you're being clever, do you?"

And Cordelia responded in kind, her smirk fading from her face. "I think I am. It's not my fault the double meaning happens to be very relevant to you, Captain, nor is it my fault that I managed to work that out."

The Captain released an exasperated sigh and lifted an arm to wipe at his forehead, daring to walk close to the window without taking his eyes off the biologically younger ghost.

"Now look here, young lady," he snapped, suggesting to Cordelia that he was slowly losing his patience. "this is not the time for horseplay!" He stopped with his back to the window and pointed his baton towards the door with a harsh whipping motion and a loud 'swish!' to follow it, which Cordelia showed no reaction to whatsoever. "There is an emergency meeting in the common room and your attendance is compulsory. So, quit mucking about and get going." When Cordelia merely reacted by having her eyes follow his baton and then resume focusing on his face, the Captain raised a brow and jerked his head towards the door. "What are you waiting for? Chop chop!"

"With all due respect, Captain," Cordelia began sarcastically as she crossed her arms and leaned back a little on the bed. "I will have to decline."

The Captain gasped and clutched his empty hand to his chest with the drop of his other arm, acting as though Cordelia had just betrayed him and shot him through the heart at point blank. "I beg your pardon?"

Cordelia huffed and frowned at the Captain's apparent shock. "Please cease the theatrics, good sir. We do not need another 'Thomas Thorne' in this household."

The Captain's nostrils flared as he stood up straight and returned his hands behind his back, trying to keep his composure despite being compared to Thomas; not that Cordelia could blame him. Who liked being compared to that melodramatic poet? Certainly not her, as evidenced by the times she'd heard Julian joking about it.

"Would you please take this seriously, Cordelia?"

"Oh, believe me, Captain, I am." He cocked a brow at her immediate answer. "Taking aside that you are fully aware of my aversion of the common room and to the activities and business of the rest of you, it is no secret that I am not liked amongst your little menagerie, particularly in the instances of yourself and Lady Button."

"And what has that got to do with it?"

Cordelia's frown deepened. "I think you know." When the Captain didn't respond or react, she leaned forward a little, her next words spoken in a low voice. "I am not as gullible nor as oblivious as everyone else, so it should not surprise you that I know you abuse your self-appointed leadership whenever a situation isn't to your liking."

"Wha—! I—!" The Captain spluttered, only to turn his nose up at the ceiling. "Well, that—! That is utter nonsense! How dare you make such an accusation!"

Cordelia's eyes drooped at the World War 2 veteran's attempt to defend himself, continuing as if his outburst didn't just happen. "Accusation or not, sir, your real reason for seeking me out is because I possess something that can give you an advantage over the other ghosts." She closed her eyes and turned her head away. "And I refuse to let myself be used to escalate petty quarrels that have nothing to do with me."

Silence fell between the Captain and Cordelia for what felt like minutes, during which time the latter made no attempt to peek at the former. That didn't stop her from coming to the conclusion that his lack of a retort meant one of three things: either he knew it was useless arguing and was going to retreat, he didn't want to say anything that would prove she was right, or he was re-evaluating his tactics. Regardless of which one it was, Cordelia knew better than to let her guard down. After all, the Captain was a highly intelligent man, because how else would he have gained his title and his medals (attached to the left breast of his jacket) otherwise?

Finally, after what felt like forever of dwelling in the lingering silence, the Captain spoke first, keeping his voice low.

"Right. So, you are declining to attend this urgent meeting?"

"Yes," Cordelia answered abruptly.

"And that is your final answer, is it?"

"It is, yes."

Another few seconds of silence followed and then…

"Very well," he replied through a huff. "Then you've left me with no choice."

Cordelia opened an eye and turned her head slightly to observe the Captain roll back and forth on his heels and soles, keeping his arms behind him and puffing his chest out. At first, Cordelia was struggling to understand what it was he had planned up his sleeves, hence why her eyes narrowed and part of her gaze remained fixed on the biologically older ghost.

But then, with the loud clearing of his throat and a quick lick of his lips (which was unnecessary because… they didn't have saliva), he broke out into deep and fast-paced singing, choosing a song that Cordelia's eyes instantly widened at.

"I am the very model of a modern Major-General~! I've information vegetable, animal and mineral~!—"

"Oh Lord, have mercy…" she quietly hissed and stuck her fingers in her ears at his brief pause for breath, squeezing her eyes shut to try to block it out; her attempts were, of course, futile.

"—I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical~! From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical~!"

The Captain paused to hum the catchy and fast-paced tune under his breath, causing Cordelia to grit her teeth and dig her fingers deeper into her ears. She was no stranger to this song. It was a common one she'd often heard the Captain singing to himself or something he'd use as an annoying tactic to get his way. She suspected the latter was likely the reason why he was singing right now, which she knew wasn't good.

'Damn your eyes! You are surely a stubborn fellow! For even if I was to flee this room and seek sanctuary elsewhere, you would not cease your infernal racket!'

Cordelia knew she didn't have a choice in the matter anymore. If she wanted this man to silence his singing, she was going to have to give in to his demands. He was the hunter smoking out her burrow and she was the rabbit being forced to the surface to avoid suffocation, knowing the moment she emerged she was in his trap and ready to be shot at.

"Damn you, sir," she muttered under her breath while opening her eyes, prompting the Captain to go quiet and allow her to remove her fingers.

"Apologies, Cordelia, did you say something?" he asked with a sly smile. "I couldn't quite hear you over my singing."

Cordelia breathed in deeply through her mouth and counted to ten in her head, eventually exhaling and slowly bringing herself to stand.

"… If I accompany you to the common room and give in to your childish whims, will I have the luxury of being left alone after that?"

The Captain's smile faded with a stiff nod. "Yes."

"Then I shall go," she grumbled, shooting the Captain a brief glare as she made to stroll past him and place her hands to her front. "But I am not going any farther into the common room than the doorway."

"I can agree to that."

"Thank you."

The moment she took the lead and phased through the door into the corridor, she heard the Captain following close behind like clockwork, attempting to match his striding footsteps with her nimble own.

"Just out of curiosity," the Captain began once they'd reached the middle of the corridor, speaking in a gloating tone. "what did you think of my singing? Thought I'd gotten that spot-on myself."

Cordelia responded without glancing behind her or breaking her walk. "Do you want my honest opinion?"

"I do."

"Then to be frank, Captain…" Cordelia let a faint smile of amusement slip, knowing her next words were going to be a hollow victory this time. "I've heard pigeon coos with more tune."

The common room of Button House was one of the first rooms of the east wing that visitors would encounter upon arrival, situated to the left side of the small foyer. Due to its long and rectangular width, it was one of the largest rooms on the ground floor and also one of few rooms that guests would have to traverse through to reach the rest of the east wing, with a high white ceiling supported by a trio of white columns at the far end. As such, it was equipped for social gatherings, including a piano close to the farthest window, two cream-coloured sofas and matching armchairs gathered close to the fireplace at the back of the room, and multiple wooden tables scattered with various items atop it either close to the seating (which contained lamps) or against the walls outlining the room. While three of its walls were decorated with lush green wallpaper, however, the wall close to the room's entrance was brown, housing many and various sized picture frames and a mirror whose large crack spread from its top left corner. It was this room that the other eight ghosts were currently occupying, as Cordelia was quick to confirm when she became the first to step into the doorway.

A quick glance inside revealed Robin (a caveman around Cordelia's age biologically with wild, brunette hair framing his face like a lion's mane and dressed in filth covered furs resembling a sleeveless shirt, sleeves covering from his wrists to his elbows, shorts and boots up to his thighs) and Julian (a Conservative MP around twenty years Cordelia's senior biologically with short, curly flaxen hair and dressed in a black jacket, blue and white striped shirt, red tie and black shoes, but missing his trousers and exposing his black-knee high socks with straps round his shins) respectively seated in the two armchairs to the left of the fireplace on either side of the circular table that contained the chess set. To Julian's left was Pat (a short and stout bespectacled Scoutmaster around ten years Cordelia's senior with short brunette hair and dressed in a beige jacket decorated with various badges and matching shorts, plus a blue and yellow neckerchief tied by a woggle, knee-high black socks and brown shoes, that made up a Scoutmaster's uniform), who was shuffling from side-to-side on the chair he was sitting on to avoid the blue broken ended arrow sticking diagonally through his neck from hitting its back.

Cordelia could also see Fanny (an Edwardian noblewoman biologically around thirty years Cordelia's senior with her blonde and grey streaked hair tied into a bun and dressed in a long, high-collared cream dress with silver earrings), Mary (a Stuart-era peasant woman around twenty years Cordelia's senior biologically covered head to toe in soot, with short black hair hiding under a white cap and dressed in a yellow and blue laced dress with a white apron) and Kitty (a Georgian noblewoman around Cordelia's age biologically with her black hair styled into an up do and decorated with feathers, wearing a rich burgundy fabric gown trimmed by lace and four pink bows along the front plus a fisu at her neckline) respectively seated on the cream sofa lined close to the wall where she stood, with Thomas (a Regency-era gentleman biologically a little older than Cordelia with dark brown curly hair and dressed in a white linen shirt with a high collar and puffy sleeves, a brown and buttoned decorated waistcoat stained with blood surrounding a small hole on his left side, a cravat tied into a bow, white breeches and black boots) leaning against the back of the sofa behind Fanny's head.

The seven ghosts had yet to take notice of Cordelia, so for a brief moment she was left observing them silently as Julian and Robin mulled over the chess board with Pat watching, and Mary and Kitty chatting between themselves while Fanny and Thomas each looked off in different directions, one seeking a distraction while the other sulked in his thoughts. She couldn't see Humphrey anywhere, yet she could take a good guess that he was likely somewhere on the floor, where he usually was in most situations.

She soon got her answer when that familiar searing pain suddenly prickled at her wound with such intensity, it was like someone had wedged a flaming stick into her back.

'Damnation!'

Cordelia winced and started to drop towards the floor at feeling her knees buckle, only to feel a strong grip from a pair of hands swiftly swooping under her arms to halt her movement.

"Whoa there, Cordelia!" The voice confirmed her saviour to be the Captain, whose shout had caused the other ghosts in the room to fall silent and turn to them. "Steady now."

From within her peripheral vision, Cordelia caught Kitty, Mary, Pat and Thomas soon leaping from their current positions to stand upon instinct, with Kitty, Mary and Thomas sharing brief frowns of concern, which was something the blonde had expected from them. Fanny, on the other hand, remained watching from where she was seated, staring on at the scene with a wide blink and a slight gape.

"Hello! Look at that!" Cordelia heard Julian remark as the Captain hoisted her up to her full height again and kept his hold on her, with the blonde giving the MP a quick glance to see him leaning over the chess board towards Robin with a beckoning motion. "Told you he'd get her to come in here! You owe me a tenner, mate!"

"Not so fast," Robin countered with a scowl, his gaze focused on the chess board all the while. He eventually raised an index finger and pointed to a random square on the board, moving his fingertip two squares forward. "Little guy go dooka dooka…" He jabbed his finger above the chosen square, causing Julian to gape. "Checkmate." Robin leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "I owe nothing."

Julian growled and smacked his fists against the arms of the chair. "Argh!"

"Guys, please!" Pat shushed the pair and slightly tilted his head towards Cordelia and the Captain, as if trying to subtly indicate for them to be quiet. "Not the time."

With heavy breaths, Cordelia rolled her shoulders to try to dispel the burning sensation still lingering around the middle of her upper back, despite knowing it was a useless feat. She gave her hands a brief glance, her eyes drooping at the sight of the slight shaking of her fingers; how was that possible when she didn't have a physical body anymore to experience these sensations?

'Of all the times this had to happen, why must it have been in the company of an audience?!'

"You alright there?" Humphrey's concerned voice prompted Cordelia's eyes to trail to the wooden floor, where she spied the Tudor nobleman's head staring up at her with a furrowed brow close to where she was standing. "You look like you can barely stand."

Ah. There he was.

"I'm fine," she heaved through her erratic and non-existent breathing. "Just a little faint." Then she frowned at her own words and glanced around at the other ghosts for confirmation. "Can apparitions feel faint?"

The other ghosts made noises of confusion to her question, either accompanied by the shrugging of shoulders or shakes of the head. It didn't take long, though, for Pat to become the voice of order the moment he side-stepped away from his chair and held his hands out towards it.

"Here, Cordelia. You can take my seat. Maybe you'll feel better once you—"

"NO!" Mary's shriek at the offer caused every ghost in that room to nearly jump out of their (non-existent) skin simultaneously (even Cordelia, despite knowing why Mary had objected). The peasant woman was repeatedly shaking her head and waving her hands about, her next words spilling out of her mouth like a rushing waterfall. "Cordelia cannots sits there! She musts nots sits there!"

"Why can't she sit there, Mary?" Pat asked, prompting Mary to cease the shaking and waving once she'd processed his question.

"'Cause… Uh…" Mary trailed off and looked to Thomas and Kitty for help, with the pair exchanging a quick sideways glance and then giving the peasant woman an open-armed shrug each. "It- It be 'cause…" She then turned to Cordelia, who could only shake her head to dissuade her from even trying. Eventually, Mary focused on the chair and held her hands out towards it, blurting out the first thing that popped into her head. "The chair be cursed!"

Robin groaned quietly and smacked a palm to his forehead, grumbling something inaudible under his breath. Thomas' shoulders slumped with the shake of his head. Kitty, Pat, Julian, Fanny and the Captain were left frowning and exchanging confused glances. And then there was Cordelia, who hid her dismay behind her hand and lowered head, listening to Humphrey's muttered comment amidst her thoughts.

"Oh, good god…"

'Lord, have mercy…'

"You what?" Pat eventually questioned when he found the will to speak, prompting Robin to raise a finger upon answering the scoutmaster in Mary's stead.

"Uh, I think Mary try to say that Cordel too unwell to sit in chair." He pointed towards the doorway. "Maybe Cordel go back to room."

"That's out of the question, Robin," the Captain said, keeping Cordelia close to his side at seeing her posture slump a bit and her jaw clench. "All personnel are compulsory for this emergency meeting and that includes Cordelia."

"But Cordelia looks so sickly and pale!" Kitty exclaimed, only to squint a bit and tilt her head upon scrutinising Cordelia's face a little closer. "Unless she's always looked like that…"

"Do not trouble yourselves," Cordelia interjected with the dismissive wave of her hand, her tone wobbling a bit because of the pain. "Seat me by the piano, Captain. I can push through."

That was a blatant lie and Cordelia knew it, yet she had little choice in the matter. The Captain was a persistent adversary. Her protests and the protests of the others would likely fall on deaf ears, or—as he often tended to do—would be interrupted with the use of random noises or words to catch them off guard and allow him to take over the conversation again. In other words, fighting the Captain was pointless.

"That's the spirit, Cordelia!" The Captain praised with the puffing of his chest and raising of his chin. "Spoken like a soldier. Come along now."

Cordelia rolled her eyes at the 'compliment' and started to follow the Captain forward as he tried to slowly lead her along, quietly hissing when the movement forward resorted in the searing pain increasing in ferocity, going from feeling like one flaming stick was poking through her wound to feeling three flaming sticks were poking through her wound.

"Captain, if I may," Thomas suddenly said, prompting Cordelia and the Captain to stop walking and turn towards the poet as he stepped away from the sofa and approached them, a hand to his chest. "Perhaps I should escort young Cordelia along so we may get this meeting started. We have already lost quite a bit of time because of this incident, don't you think?"

Cordelia narrowed her eyes at Thomas then, giving the Regency gentleman a quick look over to try to determine what he was up to. But when the Captain glanced her way with a faint frown, as if contemplating Thomas' proposal, Cordelia saw Thomas wink at her, the subtle action being all she needed to understand his intentions.

'Ah! Attempting to divert the attention away from me, Thomas? For all your self-indulgence and obliviousness, your consideration as a gentleman is an advantageous weapon when you have the wits to use it.'

"Jolly good idea, Thorne," the Captain eventually said, taking a step back to allow Thomas to come forward and hook his arm through Cordelia's, which the Captain took as his cue to release his hold. "Then I shall leave her in your care."

Once Cordelia's arm was secured in Thomas' hold, the shorter ghost breathed deeply and leaned herself against Thomas' side, closing her eyes the moment she heard the Captain walk towards the seating area. Cordelia was only three inches shorter than Pat (who was apparently around 5"5 in terms of height), so she could only just about rest the side of her head against Thomas' shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling Thomas give her arm a gentle pat to acknowledge her gratitude before he resumed her slow walk (or limp, at this point, because the pain was making her stagger) to the piano.

She did open her eyes and peek back towards Kitty, Robin and Mary from where they were still observing her though, giving the trio a collective nod to show she was grateful for their attempted interventions as well as Kitty and Mary returned to their seats with Pat. While Cordelia made a great effort to avoid the ghosts on a daily basis, even she could admit there were times where she was glad some of them were understanding and had her back.

Once she and Thomas had moved past the seating area, however, she gradually felt the prickling of her wound die down to a point where it was bearable, allowing her to quicken her pace and stand up a little straighter with a sigh of relief. The Captain, who was now stood with his back to the fireplace with his hands behind him, began his talk as Thomas helped Cordelia sit down on the stool in front of the piano before sitting beside her, with the blonde putting her hands in her lap and Thomas clasping his atop his crossed legs.

"Right. Now that everyone's in attendance, I can finally get to my A.O.B, which involves you, Fanny," he started with a hint of annoyance in his tone, facing the addressed with a glare while Fanny gaped and blinked widely.

The other ghosts, meanwhile, were left frowning at Fanny out of confusion, with Cordelia being the exception when she raised a brow the former noblewoman's way instead.

'The Captain is at odds with Lady Button? How unexpected.' She rolled her shoulders a bit, noting the searing pain was still there, but it was a little fainter compared to before. 'Still, it will make for a convenient distraction, I suppose.'

"Me?!" Fanny shrieked, prompting the Captain to nod with a deepening glare.

"That's right! Because ever since I've moved rooms, I've been woken every night at exactly 0300 hours by you screaming like a mad person!"

Fanny made a noise of disgust and leaned back in her seat as if she'd been slapped round the face. But before she could even bring herself to say anything, a loud gasp from Cordelia caused heads to turn towards her, with the ghosts gathered witnessing the blonde's face contort to a scowl in a matter of seconds.

"You knave!" she shouted and pointed a finger accusingly towards the Captain, who showed no outward reaction to her outburst. "So, it was Lady Button's nightly jumping and screaming that forced you to seek me out!"

"What?!" Fanny exclaimed with wide eyes, with the Captain using a hand to straighten out his collar and Thomas leaning away from Cordelia with a finger twisting in his ear.

"That's exactly right, Cordelia." The Captain returned his hand behind his back. "Your room also has a garden view. I had an inkling you would have seen or heard Fanny and could verify my statements."

"Those were Lady Button's screams?" Kitty questioned with a small smile, placing a finger to her chin. "I always thought that was an owl."

"An owl?" Cordelia repeated with a creased brow, recalling the many times she'd heard Fanny's screaming. "The two do not even sound close enough to be muddled up."

"Do you even know what an owl sounds like, Kitty?" Thomas asked with a similar perplexed expression to Cordelia.

"I thought I did." Kitty shrugged her shoulders and widened her smile, her innocent and naïve nature clearly shining through. "But not anymore, I suppose."

Cordelia and Thomas shared a sideways glance and drooped eyes, only to return their attention to the Captain when he loudly cleared his throat to restore order.

"Now see here, Fanny," he continued with a stern tone, glaring at Fanny and raising his baton to point directly at her. "This can't go on! This jumping and screaming nonsense needs to stop!"

"Well, I don't see why it should!" Fanny retorted and rose to her feet, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Firstly, I am not even aware I'm doing it! And secondly,"—she gestured a hand towards Cordelia—"Cordelia has apparently been aware of this, yet she hasn't complained!" Fanny straightened out and turned her gaze towards the ceiling, her hands clasped across her middle. "Which I'll admit, I am surprised at."

Cordelia rolled her eyes at the last comment from Fanny, but she didn't say anything until Pat addressed her.

"Actually, now that Lady B's mentioned it… If you've heard those screams and knew it was Lady B, how come you've never said anything, Cordelia?"

"There has never been a need to, Patrick," she answered bluntly, prompting the others to blink widely at her immediate response. "From the first moment I heard it, I easily identified the screams to be from Lady Button. Yet upon a quick investigation to ensure she was not in distress, I discovered her in the garden with a glazed look in her eyes." Cordelia saw Fanny's brows raise at this, yet she continued. "The act appears to be subconscious and during slumber, occurring ever since her death only once per night and with Lady Button having no recollection of it. Complaining about mere seconds of screaming that is clearly involuntary seemed pointless, especially as it is not a bother to myself."

A moment of silence fell around the gathered ghosts as they stared silently at Cordelia, with Fanny standing still with her mouth agape, as if she hadn't expected Cordelia to come to her defence. Not that Cordelia could blame her, considering the Edwardian noblewoman spent the most of her time criticising her unfairly whenever they were in each other's company.

But that was soon broken by the slashing interruption from the Captain.

"Well, it is to me!" he protested while jabbing his baton into his own chest, to which Cordelia huffed loudly and closed her eyes. "Even ghosts need regular sleep, you know!"

"Yet you are the only one with complaints, Captain." Cordelia opened an eye. "If you are unable to withstand the distressed screams of a traumatised Edwardian noblewoman for at least five seconds or slightly more each night, perhaps you would do well to return to your original sleeping quarters, hm?"

"Cordelia does make a point, Cap," Pat agreed as he stood from his seat, holding out his arms with a slight shrug. "Maybe you should return to your old room in the east wing."

"Nonsense!" The Captain snapped and stomped a foot against the floor. "As ranking officer, I deserve the garden view!"

"And the garden view comes with the screaming woman!" Thomas replied in an overexaggerated tone, gesturing towards Fanny as he did so (with said Fanny scrunching her nose at what he'd called her).

Cordelia nodded to Thomas' statement. "Indeed it does. So, either you accept it like the rest of us, Captain, or you return to your previous sleeping quarters."

"That's right," Mary said in agreement, smiling towards the Captain. "But I'm sures yous gets used to it after a hundred years, likes Cordelia."

"But I should not have to 'get used to it'!" The Captain objected, causing Cordelia to sigh and shake her head.

"Well, throwing a childish fit will not get you what you want, Captain."

"Oooooooh…" Julian remarked in a teasing tone, rubbing his hands together and sitting forward in his chair. "Here we go!"

"A childish fit?!" The Captain repeated, aghast. "How dare you, Madam! It is a genuine grievance!"

"Yet you've chosen to die on the hill that involves you getting a room with a garden view." Cordelia folded her arms. "If it was a 'genuine grievance', Captain, would you not have accepted mine and Patrick's solution? Because from where I am sitting, your arguments thus far have been senseless."

"Senseless, you say?!" The Captain stomped his foot again and whipped his baton in Cordelia's direction with a deepened scowl. "Now see here, young lady—"

"Ugh!" Robin's groan quickly cut the Captain off, prompting heads to turn to him and preventing the others from speaking before they had a chance to devolve into a senseless debate. "It not hard!" The caveman gestured towards the Captain and Fanny. "If you no want to move that badly, then just swap rooms."

"Swap rooms?" Fanny repeated with a raised brow, which Robin nodded at.

"Yes." Robin pointed one hand at the Captain and the other at the ceiling. "Captain go up top,"—he then indicated a hand towards Fanny and the other one towards the floor—"Fanny come ground floor,"—he held both hands on either side of him and raised his shoulders—"Fanny no jumpy or screamy."

Silence rung around the common room once the caveman was finished, with some of the others exchanging quick sideways glances before focus turned to the Captain and Fanny. Eventually, Fanny became the first to break it, slowly nodding and twitching her nose as she turned her eyes to the ceiling.

"Well… I think that would suit me." Fanny dared to glance at the Captain, who was also staring at the ceiling after rolling back and forth on his heels. "Captain?"

There was a short delay before the Captain nodded and loudly sniffed, his voice quiet as he decided to comment on the compromise. "Yes, I… I agree that could work."

The other ghosts collectively released a sigh of relief at the pair conceding, with Robin smiling proudly and sitting up straight in his seat.

"See?" He gestured his hands at his face. "Not just pretty face."

Cordelia hid a smile behind her hand at this, keeping her gaze on her lap to avoid laughing. While many often dismissed Robin due to his appearance, terrible grammar and lack of manners, they often forgot that the caveman was smarter than he was given credit for, barring those like Cordelia, of course.

'Well done, Robin. Good of you to step in before we wound up devolving into wild animals.'

"Ahem!" Cordelia loudly cleared her throat to get the attention of the others once she'd pulled herself together, her blue eyes fixing specifically on the Captain with the next words to leave her mouth. "Was that all you wished to discuss, Captain?" She smoothed out the creases in her skirt in preparation to stand. "Because if that is all, I shall make my leave now."

"U-Um… Y-Yes!" The Captain eventually said after a brief stutter, pausing to swallow to regain his composure. Cordelia also thought she heard Fanny click her tongue, but she chose not to acknowledge it. "Meeting's adjourned. You can go."

"Thank you," Cordelia replied sarcastically as she rose from her seat, even daring to lean forward a bit to give the others a small bow and slightly lifted her skirt with a hand despite the continued pain in her back. "Then if you will excuse me…"

And without sparing the other ghosts a parting glance, Cordelia stood up straight and clasped her hands to her front, striding to the left side of the common room instead of the entrance leading to the foyer so she could head towards the second floor. As much as she wanted to return to her room, this was the easiest way for her to escape her physical agony, as proven when she gradually found her pace quickening and her back straightening as the pain in her wound began to dull.

She closed her eyes with a quiet and relieved breath, hearing Kitty call out to her and Fanny make her disapproving comments.

"It was nice seeing you, Cordelia!"

"Hmph! How unladylike!"

But Cordelia didn't acknowledge either. She kept her head held high as she prepared to phase through the wall to the room opposite the common room, the last thing she heard being Pat as he spoke up to regain order and go over the ghosts' itinerary for the day.

'At least I have finally freed myself from that wretched room. Hopefully, that is the last time I shall have to convene in it again in relation to their follies.'

But if only Cordelia knew just how wrong she was going to be regarding that thought.

For the remainder of the day, Cordelia returned to her sleeping quarters and stayed there undisturbed, a respite she was thankful for. Yet once the darkness descended and slowly engulfed the daytime light within the dusk of the evening, Cordelia settled atop her bed facing the ceiling with her arms rested across her abdomen, eventually drifting off to the hooting of the owl from outside of her window.

The general consensus after today's meeting (well, for Cordelia at least; although she did assume the others shared her sentiments) was that with Fanny and the Captain having switched rooms, Fanny's nightly jumping and screaming the moment the clocks struck three in the morning would cease. So, when Cordelia found her eyes opening to the three consecutive chimes of the grandfather clock in the hallway outside of her door, she was quick to close them again with a gentle and loud exhale, having remained in the same position from the first time she'd fallen asleep.

'Force of habit, Cordelia. Let us hope you will eventually grow out of it.'

No sooner had she thought that, however, the high-pitched scream of Fanny Button resounded from outside, forcing Cordelia's eyes open seconds before a bone-crunching thud followed. She quickly sat up and turned her head towards the window at hearing the Captain's annoyed yelling, just about catching the faint figure of Fanny in the dim moonlight strolling past her window to return to the house.

"Throw yourself out of your own damned window, for heavens' sake!"

Cordelia sat there as still as a statue for a few seconds, taking the time to process what she had just witnessed. But in the end, when she came to the realisation that the petty squabble between Fanny and the Captain was going to continue and she would likely be dragged into it yet again, she hid her face in her hands and shouted into her palms.

"Fie!"