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Lucie paced the room, breaths coming shallow and quickly.
She tugged at her nightgown, readjusting it like it might help her breathe easier, but to no avail. The images of her dream persisted– She was walking down a long corridor in the institute, and every time she passed by a doorway, the person standing in the room would see her and shut the door on her before she could say anything. It started with people she hardly knew or didn’t particularly care for, like Esme Highcastle and Charles Fairchild, but as she moved further down, the sting of rejection began to grow.
Grace. Thomas. Anna. Sona. Alastair. Matthew. James. Her Parents.
Cordelia.
And in the final doorway, she made eye contact with Jesse, who looked at her with indifference. She surged forward, trying to squeeze her way through, before he could lock her out, and she swore she saw cruel humor in his face when he forced the door shut, leaving her alone in the dark corridor.
She had turned to run all the way back but realized the corridor was endless, infinite and she was stuck, hearing the locks click on the door as they heard her pounding footsteps–
She had woken up then, as if she were truly running through the institute. Her blood thrummed in her ears, and she felt inexplicably warm, despite the tiny bumps prickling at her arms. For what had seemed nearly an hour, she had been unable to sleep, unable to calm herself or her mind.
She had considered finding Jesse, but she wanted to avoid an unnecessary encounter with Jessamine, who now seemed to have a new mission in death: to protect Lucie’s virtue as if it were her own. She was convinced that Will had put her up to it, but when she confronted him about it he had merely acted oblivious, but Lucie knew better.
She could deal with a pesky ghost, though. What she feared was rapping at Jesse’s door and realizing that her dream was not unrealistic, after all. Although they lived under the same roof, she felt as if her encounters with Jesse were growing fewer and further between. Jesse was still focused on his training in the mornings, and Lucie always worked better on her writing at night. She felt silly because they did still find time for each other, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this was purely out of habit than anything else.
Her mind continued to spiral around until she couldn’t handle the noise of it all, and threw a coat over her shoulders, rushing out the institute and into the cool night. She hadn’t even bothered to draw herself an invisibility rune, so she hoped no one would disturb her on her short walk. Her walk evolved into a jog, which became a run. When she reached her destination she hesitated.
Standing at the door of 48 Curzon St, she forced herself to ignore the dream that had been pestering her, and knocked. And knocked. Her heart began burning with humiliation and shame when she realized that they might not open for her. She couldn’t expect James and Cordelia to drop everything for her on any given Sunday night that she might need company.
As soon as she dropped her hand, The door opened before her, revealing James squinting at her.
“Lucie?” His voice dripped with sleep. “Come in– What are you doing here so late?”
She realized she did not have an answer prepared. Why was she here? “I want to talk to Daisy,” She said, and she found the words to be true.
“What's wrong?” His expression sobered a bit, as he reached to shut the door behind her.
“I–” She couldn’t get through more before her voice broke, and she swallowed a sob. James looked concerned but her gaze was diverted to the staircase behind him as Daisy appeared at the top of it.
“Lucie!” She called out in surprise, as she ran down the stairs to greet her. At the sight of her parabatai, Lucie broke down. It wasn’t until she saw her, that she realized how badly she had needed comfort.
Cordelia pulled her in tightly, her steady breaths contrasting Lucie’s erratic, shallow ones. “Luce, you’re freezing– come here.” She led her to the drawing room, where she asked James to start a fire. She had Lucie sit on the floor, while she found a quilted blanket to drape over her shoulders. Cordelia, sat on the floor next to Lucie, and they watched the wood start to catch fire.
Lucie rested her head on Cordelia’s shoulder, and let her tears fall silently. Once she had finally allowed herself to cry, It was even harder to catch her breath, and Cordelia sensing this, placed her warm hand on Lucie’s chest.
“Here,” Cordelia said, gently taking Lucie’s other hand and guiding over her own heart, “Breathe with me.” She took a deep breath then, and Lucie tried to follow suit.
They sat cross legged on the floor like that for a few minutes, sharing their breaths with each other, until it was one that whispered throughout the room. James had taken a seat on an armchair, surely not wanting to leave until Lucie could share what was troubling her.
Slowly, the burning in Lucie’s chest subsided and she finally felt well enough to whisper, “Thank you, Daisy.”
Cordelia extended her hand to tenderly cradle Lucie's cheek, giving it a few gentle pats before drawing her into another warm embrace. Nestling into Lucie's loose hair, she inquired, "What's troubling you?”
Lucie sniffed– there seemed to be too much to share, but she pulled back and explained regardless. How she felt forgotten, at times although she knew it was unreasonable. How she felt like she was a failure for not getting her book published yet, and how she felt like Jesse resented her for it, since she told him she wanted to wait to get engaged. He must’ve been frustrated with her and how she couldn’t seem to accomplish her goal, and now he’s suffering for it too. And watching Cordelia and James made her realize she wanted to be married– but she didn’t want to give up on her goal. She explained how she often felt like others avoided her, because they didn’t have energy for her, and she was scared that Jesse would start feeling the same way.
Cordelia just listened, not interrupting her as she shared her tangled thoughts.
Then, once Lucie had said emptied her buzzing anxieties into the warm air of the parlor, Cordelia simply squeezed her hand asking, “Is that all?”
Lucie nodded.
Cordelia leaned forward and hugged her tightly. “My Lucie...” Her tears had begun streaming down her face, yet again, but this time they were silent. “I’m sorry you feel this way, but I promise that Jesse doesn’t. I certainly do not. Right, James?”
Her brother patted her head, comfortingly. “Luce, I think you should talk to Jesse about this.” She shook her head.
“No, he won’t understand– I don’t want to make him feel like I don’t trust him.”
“You need good communication. Trust me.”
“James is right, Luce.” Cordelia offered. “And you ought not compare you and Jesse to me and James. Our situations are vastly different. If we hadn’t gotten married when we did, I don't know that we would even be married yet.”
“Well,” James said, “I’m not sure about that, but that’s not the point. Talk to Jesse. You might have changed your mind on your goal, and that's all right. But you’re both still young and have your whole lives to be married, too. You’ll find out what's right for you both, but you need to talk to him.”
Lucie took a deep breath, nodding her head. “I hate to admit it, but I think you have a point, James. It’s not fair to him.” Cordelia and James looked at her with encouraging nods. “I will go tell him now.” Cordelia stood at the same time she did.
“You can’t walk back alone! It’s awfully late– I will go with you.” James stood up, too.
“And you’re mad if you think I’m going to let you walk back alone, Daisy.” He shouldered his coat that was draped over the coat hanger. “Come on, let's go.”