Oliver came back to the manor late.
After Nathaniel and him had split, Oliver took a carriage back to Central London, and then walked blindly around the city.
This was happening.
They had had an agreement and Oliver wasn't going to just go on another mission after that.
He'd been waiting for this for years. For the chance to get out of this, to repay his debt to Nathaniel and just be done with it.
Forever.
To be free.
And maybe even speak to Callum and explain everything.
Oliver wasn't just going to let go. He was going to find whatever he needed to finish his job here, even if it was the last thing he was going to do.
Once he was back in his room in Fernsby's, he took his coat off and changed.
The cloth was soaked with the heavy smell of cigarettes and cheap food from the places he'd stopped at, so he hung his clothes by to the opened window.
Tennyson was supposed to be leaving early tomor
It goes to hell
This takes place after Xiao and Henriette’s first meeting in chapter 37 The smoke is lazily curling in a spiral around his long, gentle fingers. Then it’s wrapping them in its blue cloud only to dissolve into the air a few seconds later when he exhales and his breath destroys the dancing shapes. It vanishes. The way he always does, always coming and going. He looks troubled and fails to conceal it this time. I can’t tell why. And normally I’m very good at telling what’s going on in someone’s head. He looks at me and it’s like he wants to ask me something, but doesn’t know how to turn his thoughts into words and voice them. One of Ella’s girls sits next to Xiao and runs her hand over his back. He ignores her and looks back at the table. Albert and him have been playing for the past half an hour in silence and it’s one of the rare cases they seem to be completely lost to just everyth
A divine move is one that is non-obvious and it balances strategy and tactics to turn a losing game into a winning play.It comes from the神の一手Kami no Itte, meaning "move of God" or "Godly move".It is used in teaching as a motivation to look again at positions in games and consider not just the obvious moves but the less apparent and more innovative ones as well.A divine move is singular-they are of such a rarity that a full-time Go player might play a single such move in a lifetime.When I began Callum and Oliver's journey, I had already decided on the title. It was supposed to be The Lord’s Divine Move.However, the more I wrote, the more I realized it wasn't only Callum's, but Oliver's chance to change the turn of events and break the chains, binding him to his past.It’s a story of two people, constantl
London, 1852The man sitting opposite William put the heavy tumbler on the table.The expensive piece of furniture was conveniently placed next to the richly decorated sofa his companion was almost lying in.He was dressed in a dark, well-tailored suit which most likely cost William's pay for the entire year.Double, even.Judging by his speech, he was someone from the upper classes, yet the nobleman’s behavior didn't match his noble origin in the least.He'd untied his black cravat, spoke of books idly, and didn't seem to be interested in the game they were playing at all.The man hadn't introduced himself when they'd met earlier and he hadn't been accompanied by a servant or another nobleman.William was sure the place they were at wasn't even the man's main
August 1852He hated all of this. Absolutely any part of it in its entirety.He mostly dreaded the fact he had to sit through another of his mother's richly organized dinners now.At the same time, Callum was glad he wasn't the one expected to stay until its very end. He didn't even want to imagine how terrible that would be.He glanced at Liam- his older brother- who was talking to a sweet, petite blonde girl; her purple dress was covered in frills and ribbons as per the latest fashion.Callum's gaze lingered over the lace of her corset for a few moments longer than appropriate before his eyes moved up to the ivory clock on the wall.The time was showing 9:14.Good.Callum reminded himself not to check the time so obviously often and looked away, searching for a place to put his eyes on.The young lady sitting opposite him was still smiling politely, although Callum knew
Oliver was standing in the middle of the small, shabby room in East London.This had been his home for the past few months and he had to admit he might actually miss the place.It was the attic of an old house, governed by Lady Eleanore. The owner had initially refused to accept bachelors, such as he was at an age, perfect for a young man to start thinking of getting into a more serious contract with a lady.But when he'd offered a handsome sum of money, Lady Eleanore had agreed to have him.The morning sun rays made the dust dance in the small room, but Oliver knew rain was coming. The weather changed so fast in London at that time of the year.He didn't have much, except for a few books and a few pairs of suits which he gathered in an old leather suitcase.Oliver wasn't sure if he'd need any of them, though, as he was going to have a uniform for his new job.He was going to be a valet in one of the richest families
He was instructed to use the servants' entrance, which was to the side. An old man in an impeccable black suit with the traditional white shirt and a white bow tie greeted him.He was most likely the manager of the Household Servants."Pleased to meet you, Sir. I'm Oliver Abram- Lord Tennyson's new valet." He outstretched his hand, but the man didn't return the greeting.Oliver took his hand back and the other man seized him up and down."You must have a very good recommendation to be hired for work in the household, especially dressed like that. "Oliver knew that even though he was wearing his best clothes, they were of much lower quality than the ones even the cleaning staff wore.The butler didn't wait for Oliver's response and said"This way, and try not to ask too many questions. Lord Tennyson hates them
Callum had the worst hangover he'd had in a while.And that said a lot, considering he had a pretty solid experience with port and whisky.He looked around the dark room and saw his clothes from last night all over the floor.Callum had no memory of how he'd gotten back to the mansion, but at least he was in his nightgown.He got dressed. By himself. He'd had a valet only once years ago and never allowed a servant to help him get dressed from then on.Callum was just finishing the tying of his black cravat.It was in very strong contrast with his white shirt, but when he added the black coat he decided it wasn't shockingly bad or dark enough.There was a knock on the door as he was trying to put his hair in order. It had overgrown a bit and he knew how inappropriate that was, so decided to just leave it the way it was."Yes?" he called. It was Thomas.
The next day something similar happened and Oliver was beginning to worry he might never actually do any work. He was occasionally helping the maids or the men in the yard, but that was pretty much all he did.He was given the black uniform of the valet, but he found himself rarely wearing it while he was outside with the man-servants.Something that got him the constant disapproving eyes of the butler.That, Oliver was really trying not to poke Thomas's eyes with his constant idleness and obvious not involvement in the way Callum's clothing or appearance were tended.He just didn't see the Lord anywhere.The maids were saying he was often gone for more than even one night, so Oliver could only guess where he went. After all, the old Lord had warned him about his master himself.On the third day, Oliver got up, looked for the Lord, but he was informed that Callum had already gone out, so he headed for Tennyson's study.