the times we were falling

𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘

𝕍𝕀𝔾ℕ, adorned in his uniform, hustled to set the tea set in preparation for an impending guest. As he worked diligently, Afissa approached with a tea pot in hand. "That is the best china, for special guests. For visitors from the professions, we use the second-best china," she pointed out, correcting his choice. "Yes, ma'am," Vign sighed, acknowledging his oversight. He swiftly collected the mugs, intending to replace them with the more suitable ones. However, Afissa, keenly observant, interjected, "Am I gonna have to tell Master Spurnrose and Miss Imogen about last night?"

Caught off guard, Vign met her gaze. "What? You think I didn't notice you sneak out?" Afissa confronted the fae, who held the mugs in his hands. "I told you I'd keep my eye on you, boy," she declared with a firm resolve, hinting at a watchful eye that had taken note of his nocturnal escapades.

"Please don't tell, Afissa," Vign pleaded with the woman as he approached her. "I don't want any trouble," he said, a note of desperation in his voice. Afissa, in her stern demeanor, asked, "Are you on the lixer?" She scrutinized the male fae who replied with a quick, "No." Unconvinced, Afissa pressed further, "Tell me the truth, boy." Approaching Vign to gauge his honesty, she demanded, "Nothing like that." Vign locked eyes with the woman, silently urging her to trust him. "Well, what is it, then?" Afissa inquired, skepticism evident in her tone. Before he could answer, she speculated, "A lover?" Vign felt the weight of the bracelet around his wrist, a tangible reminder of his affection. He couldn't help but smile, looking down, his cheeks flushed. With a fluttering heart, he faced the woman again and admitted, "Yes, you can say that."

The woman noticed the rosy-pink hue that adorned Vign. "But I promise she won't be any trouble," he reassured before she could voice her concerns. Afissa nodded and, with a small smile, asked, "What is her name?" Vign's face lit up, and he replied with genuine joy, "Melody."

"Melody? The sister of the inspector?" Afissa asked, her curiosity piqued. Vign's smile dropped at the mention of the man who betrayed him. "Believe me, I never want to see that man's face again for as long as I live." His voice carried a weight of bitterness and disappointment. After he uttered those words, the bell to the door rang, capturing their attention. "Right, you take the tray, and I'll get the door," Afissa said decisively before swiftly leaving for the entrance. Vign, still carrying the mugs, hurriedly put them down and grabbed the tray, placing it on the dining table.

"Mr. Wigsby here to see you, sir, miss," Afissa announced as Mr. Wigsby walked into the dining room. Mr. Spournrose stood up from his chair and went to greet the man, extending a handshake. "Ah, good morning, Wigsby," he greeted warmly. "Morning. I came as soon as I could," Mr. Wigsby replied before turning to Imogen and taking her hand. "You wrote of a situation?" he inquired. Imogen nodded. "I certainly did. Cheswith House." Leading the two men to the front of the window, she lifted the curtain, gesturing towards the house across the way. "There, across the way. I heard someone was taking residence." Mr. Wigsby looked puzzled, and Imogen clarified, "Not someone. A Puck." Vign rolled his eyes and exchanged a glance with the faun woman, who looked surprised. While she poured the tea, Vign placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and gestured for her to let him handle the tea.

"All puffed up in silken finery," Imogen continued. "He carried a ridiculous walking stick and has a human manservant." Mr. Wigsby looked at Mr. Spournrose in shock. "She's not serious," he said, unable to believe the statement. Vign sighed and muttered sarcastically under his breath, "Oh, what a tragedy," standing up straight and letting Afissa continue with her work. "I laid eyes on him myself," Mr. Spournrose affirmed before Imogen added with determination, "Needless to say, it's a situation that cannot be allowed to stand."

"Well, I sympathize with your distress, Miss Imogen... assuredly, I do... but... I know of no law explicitly banning the sale of property," Mr. Wigsby remarked. Afissa wore a small smile, and Vign, catching a glimpse, couldn't help but let a smirk raise to his lips as he observed the trio expressing their discontent. "It is simply not done," Imogen insisted. Mr. Wigsby responded, "Assuredly not. The gossip has been that Cheswith was in debt when he died. Perhaps it's true, and his heirs chose to sell to the highest bidder." Imogen, clearly annoyed, retorted, "Well, to hell with them, then." She walked over to the table that held tea and biscuits.

"Imogen, please," Mr. Spournrose implored. He then turned back to Mr. Wigsby, pleading, "Surely, there's something you can do, Wisby." Imogen strolled back to the men with a biscuit in her mouth, expressing her frustration. "I'm afraid there is no recourse," Mr. Wigsby explained, and Imogen sighed. Mr. Spournrose nodded in resignation. "Right."

"Wigsby, you've been our solicitor since Father," Imogen stated. "If you say there's no recourse, there's no recourse." She glanced at her brother, conveying a sense of acceptance. "We'll simply have to do our best to ignore our new neighbor." Mr. Spournrose smiled in approval, taking his sister's hand. "That... that is the spirit, dear. We'll pretend he's not even here." He turned to Mr. Wisby, extending an invitation, "Would you take some tea?"

"Thank you, yes," Mr. Wigsby accepted as the two men walked towards the table. "How's Mrs. Wigsby these days?" Mr. Spournrose inquired. "In fine health and tolerable disposition," Mr. Wigsby replied. Imogen remained at her spot, nibbling on her biscuit, lost in her thoughts. At that moment, she glanced at Vign, who was pouring tea for the two men. Vign caught the gaze of her eyes, and he quickly looked down, avoiding her stare, trying to conceal the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface.

ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

Moments later, Vign reluctantly prepared to venture outside with Imogen, a sense of foreboding lingering within him at the prospect of being alone with her. Despite his apprehension, he adorned himself in readiness and then accompanied Imogen. As they approached the plaza, Vign's attention was drawn to a small stage stand adorned with Kobolds. "Are those...?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on the peculiar scene unfolding before them. "Kobolds. My grandmama got me one when I was a girl. Horrid little things," Imogen replied. Vign fidgeted uncomfortably with his vest, its fit causing a disturbance with his wings.

"Come along, Vign," Imogen urged, and he dutifully followed. "There they are. All the usual faces. Promenading about, this way and that way, like so many leaves in the wind," she remarked. Vign sighed, casting a casual glance at the people around them. However, amidst the crowd, a distinctive laughter reached his ears, a melody that stirred emotions he hadn't felt in a long time. His gaze pinpointed the source of the laughter, and there she was - the woman who held his heart, Melody. She was engrossed in joyous conversation with the Kobolds and a man, and Vign couldn't help but look at her with an overwhelming love in his eyes.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes fixed on Melody. Imogen followed his gaze, puzzled. "What? Miss Melody? She is quite pretty, but I don't know about beautiful," she remarked.

He shot Imogen an annoyed glance before redirecting his attention to the woman who captured his heart. "I've heard she possesses a unique connection with people, earning their trust as if she's one of them. Yet, she's also an exceptionally skilled herbalist. It's reminiscent of the tale of Snow White, finding beauty in all things unpleasant through her kindness and optimism." Imogen explained while Vign remained captivated by Melody's presence. "Heaven," he muttered, his voice barely audible, his heart swelling with an overwhelming love for the woman who seemed to enchant not only him but those around her.

Imogen looked up, her gaze directed at the cloudy sky, foreseeing the impending rain. "It looks like it might rain after all. Where's my parasol?" she inquired of Vign, who sighed and glanced downward, realizing he had forgotten to retrieve the parasol. "Sorry, miss," he admitted. Annoyed, Imogen scrutinized the fae. "You don't know the first thing about being a valet, do you? Run back and fetch it," she instructed. Vign, stealing a glance at Melody once more, hurried off to retrieve the forgotten parasol. As rain began to fall, the man accompanying the Kobolds expressed concern. "The rain is intensifying, Miss. Are you certain you'll be alright?" he asked Melody, who responded with a smile. "I'll be fine. I actually enjoy the rain, so it doesn't bother me. I apologize for not catching your show. Perhaps next time, I can make it and watch." She said to the man, who expressed gratitude. "I'll look forward to seeing you. Are you going home now?" he inquired. "Yes, I've just completed delivering the final prescription to my last patient. Please ensure you get home safely." Melody replied, waving goodbye as she started walking.

However, Melody couldn't ignore Imogen, who struggled to find shelter from the pouring rain as people passed by. Approaching her, Melody asked, "Excuse me, Miss Imogen, are you all right?" Imogen complained, "Do I appear presentable to you? I'm drenched because my valet forgot my parasol." Melody, offering assistance, said, "I'm sure he didn't mean to. I can help you catch someone's attention." With a warm smile, Melody spotted a man and approached him. "Excuse me, sir, but if you wouldn't mind sharing your umbrella with that woman?" she asked politely, gesturing towards Imogen, who was still attempting to capture someone's attention. "Why, of course," the man replied with a smile. Melody expressed her thanks before walking away.

𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘

By: SIlverMist707