Chapter Text
April, 1804: Winchester, UK
He was the only child of a well-renown cobbler or so she was told by her governess Miss Rondel. A lone black boy sat curiously upon a dilapidated chair in front of the local shoe shop; intently reading a book without any regard for those around him. Powder had seen him before, sitting in the same place, reading a different book. Only that time she happened upon a single moment where her eyes met his. A brief, almost surreal, endeavor that seemingly increased her temperature by at least two degrees. The softness of his impeccable brown eyes caused her to look away and run to Miss Rondel as fast as she could.
Who knew that only a week later she would be staring at him once more? Why her curiosity drew her to him, she knew not. Only seeing him alone made her feel strange, even though she had no reason to feel as such.
"Come along, Powder," Miss Rondel said. "We have to conduct our business quickly before your mother arrives from Romsey. We dare not keep her waiting."
Miss Rondel was her family's governess. A right pale woman with a stern voice and a calm manner. She was serious almost to a fault, with only brief moments of any real personality. Powder's sister, Violet, always explained it as "dedication to one's work" which was also how her mother explained it. None of the explanations mattered, because the woman was rather dull. The best part was that she allowed Powder time to herself, at least more than her mother did and that meant she'd be in her company more often than not.
They had made their way through several shops along the street, which was quite tiresome. Not to mention, boring. However, Powder weighed staying at home against going into town and felt she had made the right decision.
Their exploits for the day had taken them to Ardel's Dresses, Many Hats & Accessories, Golden Bull Fineries, and finally, much to her surprise, the very shoe shop she had been spying from afar, W.J. Shoes & Boots.
As they approached, the boy not once turned in their direction preferring to remain virtually ambivalent to his surroundings. Miss Rondel didn't acknowledge him, either. She ignored him entirely and entered the establishment without a care in the world. The lackadaisical manner in which the event took place left Powder in astonishment that not only was he not interested in them, but he was seemingly uninteresting to others as well.
Except for her. She stared at him quizzically before being shuffled into the building with a short ding of the bell alerting the workers inside that they had customers. Powder tried her best to keep her eyes focused on him as long as she could, and when she crossed the threshold of the front door, she looked inside and then back at the door again as it closed behind them.
Miss Rondel strolled nonchalantly towards the shop counter and was greeted by a fairly large black man dressed in brown and white workman's attire. "Good day to you, Mr. Johnson," said she. "I am obliged to retrieve the boots Mrs. Morgan requested."
The stout man bowed and said, "Of course, Miss Rondel. They are almost ready. Would you be inclined to wait a mere half an hour more?"
She nodded. "I see no harm in that."
"Thank you," he said. "Do feel free to explore my shop or fancy making yourself comfortable at the guest table. We have a fine selection of books you may peruse at your leisure."
Miss Rondel nodded once again then made herself comfortable at the table. She then found herself a book to keep herself occupied which allowed Powder to roam the shop unattended. This was beneficial for her as she was able to make her escape when another patron entered, giving her access to the outside world without drawing much attention to herself.
When she stepped out, she saw the boy sitting as she left him moments before. Completely unfazed by the world around him and heavily engrossed in his book. Powder couldn't stand seeing him so unvexed, she waltzed in front of him and asked, "What are you reading?"
To her surprise, he completely ignored her.
This wouldn't do.
Clearing her throat, she asked again, "Excuse me. What are you reading?"
Again no answer. He didn't even flinch. What kind of uncivil person did not acknowledge someone who was speaking to them?
She was about to yank the book from his hands when he peered at her with the most uninterested look she had ever seen on a boy. "Excuse me, but I am trying to read," he said.
Powder huffed, and put her hands on her hips. "I can see that! I was told that we should answer people who are talking to us. You are rude."
The boy sighed, closed his book, and said, "No ruder than you who interrupted me. I do not know you and thus have no reason to talk to you. I must be on my way."
"Wait!" she exclaimed. "I was only trying to be friendly. You looked lonely sitting there."
"Did I? My apologies. I did not mean to cause you any trouble." At that moment, he tilted his head curiously as if regarding her fully for the first time and after a moment he said, "My name is Ekko. And you are?"
"I'm Powder. Powder Morgan."
"Nice to meet you, Powder."
"Nice to meet you, too, Ekko," she said with a smile. "Are you new around here?"
"I am. Scarcely been in Winchester three months."
"Ah! Well then, welcome to Winchester!" she said.
With the brightest of smiles, he said, "Thank you."
His almost instant change in demeanor both shocked and intrigued her greatly. Ekko looked shorter than her, yet rather comely and intensely pleasant. It was as if he was a completely different person. "I am 8, how about you? I bet you're younger than me!"
Giggling, he said, "Then you should avoid betting, because I am nine...almost ten."
"If you are older, then why are you so short, I wonder?"
"I'm not short," he said as he stood in defiance only to prove her point instantly. Powder tried her best not to laugh at his misfortune, but failed as his expression soured. "I'll be tall one day..."
Powder giggled, then adjusted her bonnet. "One day, Little Man."
"I'm not little," he mumbled.
There was a brief silence between them. Powder wasn't known to have many friends and spent most of her time at Dunbury with her elder sister, Miss Rondel, their servants, and her parents. Spending any amount of time with someone other than family was unusual; almost frightening in some respects. Yet, talking to this strange boy lifted her spirits.
Powder tilted her head and pointed at the book in his hands. "You never told me what you were reading..."
Ekko looked down at his book and then back to her with a small grin. "Nothing special, I assure you. It's named 'An Essay towards solving a Problem in the Doctrine of Chances' by Thomas Bayes. It's really quite fascinating."
Powder's eyes widened at the mention of a subject she knew little about. "What's it about?"
"Probability."
"I don't right understand, I confess. Perhaps one day you could explain it to me?"
"The concept is simple. What chance do we have to do or experience anything?"
"Such as...the chance of meeting a new friend on any given day?"
Ekko nodded astutely. "Precisely."
They spent the next half-hour engaged in a lively discussion. Powder found that this boy, Ekko, was indeed quirky, without friends, and had an odd definition of fun. One that she would definitely have to change in the future. She tried her best to avoid being bored and Ekko could use some excitement in his life.
Before long, Miss Rondel exited the shop and upon seeing Powder, exclaimed, "Oh there you are, child. I was at my wit's end wondering where you had run off to. Come along, we must be headed home."
Powder chuckled at the sight of an irritated Miss Rondel. "I do believe I have met a new friend, Miss Rondel." She pointed at the boy next to her. "This is Ekko."
Miss Rondel greeted Ekko pleasantly and added, "It is nice to meet you."
"Thank you, ma'am. The pleasure is mine," he said with a bow.
"Oh what a delightful boy," she said as she extended her hand to Powder. "If only Powder was as well-behaved as you."
Powder frowned, took Miss Rondel's hand, and began dragging her away. "Let's talk again, Ekko."
He bowed again as they began their journey and Powder was more than delighted to have made an intriguing connection in the oddest sort of way. Spying him once more in the distance showed he had indeed gone back to reading his book as she predicted.
The walk home, afternoon lessons, and the arrival of her mother were relatively uneventful. The events of the day had given Powder thoughts of the future and when she could see Ekko again. The fact that Ekko was a boy hadn't registered until she shared a conversation with her mother.
After dinner, her family usually retreated to the den where they would congregate to partake in the other's company without many distractions. Her mother would often knit or engage Miss Rondel in light conversation regarding local gossip. Oftentimes, her father would remove himself into his study to manage household affairs, leaving the women to mingle amongst themselves.
On this day, Mrs. Morgan reflected on her daughter's bubbly countenance and said, "Powder, you are in good spirits today."
"I am, mamma," said she.
"And why would that be, may I ask?"
"Oh! I met the most interesting person today," Powder relayed to her mother. Emotions ablaze and her smile radiant.
Her sister, five years her senior, had been reading a book; paying a minuscule amount of attention to the events of the room. Unfortunately for Powder, when the subject of the day presented itself, she couldn't fight the urge to interject. "My dearest sister made a new friend. A boy at that!"
Powder scoffed and curled her nose in disapproval at her sister's sudden interruption. "I wanted to tell her!" she exclaimed.
Violet, who continued to feign interest in her book, said without giving her sister or her mother her full attention, "We are uninterested in dramatics, Powder. Do carry on without it."
Mrs. Morgan couldn't contain her amusement at the banter between her children and said as much. "I would be interested in knowing who this boy is."
Miss Rondel, who had been following the conversation intently answered plainly, "None other than the son of the local cobbler, Mr. Johnson."
Powder's mother's countenance hardened at the mention of the cobbler's name. "I did not know that he sired a child."
"I only found out recently," said Miss Rondel. "I happened to chance upon him at the local market and in our conversation he explained he and his wife had a son. I had not officially met him until today, however."
"I find him quite interesting and different from people around here," Powder said hurriedly.
"That is good to hear, Powder," Mrs. Morgan said with an underlying hint of encouragement. "I am not overly fond of you making friends with boys and especially boys with questionable upbringing. Though I can vouch for the upstanding character of Mr. Johnson, I can't extend the same courtesy to his children. Especially those beneath our station."
Powder could sense the trepidation in her mother's voice. "But mamma, I don't have many friends and I would like to see him again."
"Daughter, I would have you acquaint yourself with better company. Perhaps I could introduce you to Mrs. Fitzgerald's daughter. She has a fine head on her shoulders as well as proper upbringing."
"But mamma..."
"I will have no more discussion on the matter. While I am delighted you were able to handle yourself properly and mingle with our fellow neighbors, I would be remiss to approve of your contact with Mr. Johnson's son without a proper introduction. Until then, I forbid you to make any further contact without proper supervision. Am I understood?"
Powder bowed her head in defeat and said, "Yes, mamma."
"Good. Miss Rondel, I would trust you would see my wishes carried out."
The superintendent bowed in acknowledgment.
That night, Powder sat at her desk trying her best to channel her anger at her mother into various drawings of her and her newfound friend enjoying their time together while her mother watched on. She didn't understand why her mother was so adamant, but she wasn't about to let that negativity intrude on her desire to keep the only friend she had ever made on her own.