Inheritance

|01|

Through the morning mists that drifted in from the sea, blanketing the harbor like a bridal wreath, a large passenger ship appeared, cutting through the waters and sluggishly docking, chugging out black smoke that stained the cerulean sky. Despite the early hours, the harbor was hustling and bustling with life, paperboys waving around broadsheets, sailors loading and unloading goods, bells clanging, people calling, whistles and calls ringing.

Delana Ladrian watched it all from the deck of the passenger ship, The Maiden, her face an impervious mask of nonchalance and presumed confidence. Although her whitening knuckles over her luggage suggested otherwise. The briny air tickled her hair and she squirmed uncomfortably as the soupy environment made her dress feel even more restrictive than usual. Sweat gathered under her arms, making her grimace distastefully.

After all these years, she was back. Here. In London. The heart of the West, the hub of trade. Her own personal place of nightmares.

"Miss, aren't you getting off?" asked the captain of the ship, who was standing beside her on the deck, leaning against the starboard railing, calling out greetings to familiar faces. He was a good-humored man, but always with too many troublesome questions. He'd been curious about her and had been prying her with questions throughout their journey. She made a bizarre sight to him, after all. Strutting around like a noblewoman, but with the face of a lowborn—or specifically, a foreign face with slanting eyes and straight, reedy hair that men like him associated with cheap immigrant laborers. 

It just so happened that she was a product of both.

She nodded at him, and spun around, struggling down the ramp towards the wooden dock, her legs jellylike. All the while, her eyes wound through the crowds searchingly, looking for a familiar face or two. There was none. But Mr. Shoupe—the old family butler who had written to her—had said there would be people waiting for—

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. Del bit back a startled cry, whirling around, her hand clutched to her breast. Before her, loomed a tall man, his face silhouetted against the rising sun. Del spotted the familiar crest of the Ladrian House on his smart uniform about as soon as he said, "Miss Ladrian?"

"Yes? And who are you?" Del asked.

"I'm the headguard, my lady. I'm tasked to bring you safely back to the Ladrian mansion. If you'll please follow me?" Despite the polite words, his voice sounded curt. And he started walking without even waiting for her answer. Del huffed. Great, a guard with an attitude. Del didn't command much respect on first impressions (suspicion rose in abundance amongst people, however), but fortunately, she did know how to put people in their place.

Right now, though, with her exhaustion and unsteady emotions, she could only follow the guard helplessly. She made sure to sigh and grunt relentlessly until he slowed his giant strides to match with hers and offered to carry her bags. Finally. Honestly, who offered him this position? The fellow looked menacing enough with his brooding mien, but lacked basic courtesy. At least people parted for him easily as he marched towards a waiting carriage.

After stowing her suitcases in the roof and tying it in place with a tawny rope, the guard swung inside the carriage, sitting down opposite to Del, rather than at the front with the driver as would've been proper. Del raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Come to think of it, why must she be so concerned if this one man followed ridiculous social propriety or not when she herself had a reputation for spitting on them? 

As the carriage rattled away, drawing out of the crowded streets and moving towards the main thoroughfare, Del studied the headguard. His dark hair was buzzcut, black, beady eyes set on a hard, chiseled face. His nose was crooked as if it'd been broken one too many times. A tiny pale scar ran over the bow of his upper lip. Swinging fists seemed to be part and parcel of this man's life. At the very least it meant he must be good at his job.