Chapter 1 - Her First Emotion

1910, Dawson City, Canada

Usually if you ask a person what they wish to be in life the most prominent answer you will receive is that they want to be rich. They want to be famous and to be an important person in the world. Make history and leave a mark into their lives.

Trust me, it is not all butterflies and rainbows. Take it from a rich person herself.

My name is Clara Revington. I came from a family of elites. My life has been built from money bills, shining jewelries and numerous responsibilities. 

If you think about it, you might think I live a perfect life because of the immense riches my family provides me. But, no. 

Rich people have their flaws too. They might not be comparable to the problems of the poor but they are still existent.

Marriage, corruption, fraud, betrayal and, the one I hate the most, solidarity. 

Who cares if you have a whole lot of this money if you will just be alone all your life? It means nothing.

A lot might think that socialites and aristocrats have a theater full of friends but no, all they have are business partners who are traitors and jealous monsters behind their faux smiles.

Growing up in this environment, I have memorized every move and expression these dogs show each other. Whose lying, who is genuine and who is planning on betraying the latter.

“Clara!” A voice called out from upstairs.

I quickly let go of my pug, Charlotte, before ascending the staircase. I quickly went to the place where the voice echoed only to be face-to-face with my mother who was fixing her hair.

“Me and your father are going on a trip. We have business in town. Now you best keep your cool and behave. Mr. and Mrs.Vaughn will take you in their estate while we are away,” she bluntly told me before she walked off.

I took a big sigh before plopping myself into my mother’s bed. She and my father have seperate rooms. Before, I always knew that a husband and wife should be in one bedroom together, but my mother and father were never the kind to show intimacy.

My parents got married at the ripe age of nineteen because they were betrothed to each other since infancy. Both of them were stripped of their freedom to choose whom they want to marry. Aside from being married, they both must produce an heir that would inherit the Revington riches.

Being with my parents was tough. If they do not love each other, how can they give love to their child? To them, I was a chore. An obligation they must complete to please the public and their family. I grew up in the care of my maids and butlers but even they were forbidden to show such emotions towards me.

Because one drop of emotion is a secret waiting to spill. A secret my family has hidden throughout the years.

I heard the front door open indicating my parents are off to the dock. I went and gave them a quick farewell. I sat on the couches waiting for the Vaughns to pick me up. Our maid put my small bag on the marble table telling me it contains all my clothes.

A knock on the door made me bolt up from my seat. The butler quickly grabbed my bags and offered it to the butler of the woman who is standing on the door. She had auburn hair and a pretty smile plastered on her face. I tried to analyze what sort of emotion was circulating on her face but all I saw was genuine kindness. 

“Well, is this not the little girl of the Revington family?” She spoke with a peculiar accent. I gave her a dignified nod in response.

She looked at me with confusion in her smile but she caught herself and twatted the emotion away. Her butler took my bags away as we both rode her automobile.

While on the ride to the Vaughn estate, she kept asking me questions about my life.

“So, when did you turn fifteen years old, Miss Clara? I am sure you had a splendid party!” She spoke.

I internally rolled my eyes before looking back at her and shaking my head in a form of saying no.

“Oh, so you just spent it with your mum and dad? What about your friends?” She eagerly asks, making me annoyed because I didn’t want to talk.

“I do not have friends,” I said to shut her mouth up. At that moment, she stopped talking and thank god, our trip to the Vaughn estate was peaceful.

We arrived in a white marble manor in the countryside of eastern Canada. It was huge and a sight-to-see on the outside. The Vaughn family has always been rich, especially because they had their fair share of British royal blood.

I hopped out of the automobile and took my steps towards the big marble door and proceeded to knock.

“Oh, you should knock three times. It means a family member is with you so they would know I am with you,” Mrs. Vaughn informed me.

After three knocks, the door was opened by one of their maids. She curtsies to me before leading me inside the manor.

The manor had a rococo interior design and had a lot of marble statues that were very pleasing to a person’s sight. I wanted to explore the whole manor and to feast my eyes over the beautiful structures of it but I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I can’t bear to feel anything. Not now and definitely not here.

“I will tell my husband you are here. For the meantime, you can play with some dolls over there. We bought them for you,” she said with a sweet voice before leaving me in the room.

I looked at the corner of the room where there sat newly bought porcelain dolls. I grimaced at the image of them creepily standing on the corner. I never really was the kind who loved dolls. I only had my dog, Charlotte, and that was enough.

I stood up from the couch and started roaming around the manor. Looking for a thing that I could use to pass by. While looking, I stumbled upon a maid who was carrying biscuits. 

“Miss Revington, do you need anything?” she asked politely.

“Do children have anything to do in this house? Rather than playing with toys?” I asked in boredom but with respect.

Even though their class is far lower than ours, I want to treat them with the same respect I treat the high nobility. They are humans after all.

She smiled at me before leading me into a narrow way. She pointed at the door after letting go of my hand.

“I believe this is the place you are looking for. When I was child, I never really liked dolls as well. Instead, I buried myself under this very place. I hope you will love it as well as I did.” 

When she walked away from me, I quickly opened the big door and was eager to look for whatever was inside the room.

I was greeted with piles of books and chandeliers that looked far more majestic than any place I’ve ever been in. 

It was a big and old library.

I hastily rushed to one of the humongous shelves and ran my fingers across the thick paper that was embedded on each cover of a book. The aroma of sweet and musky old books were lingering inside my nose, building a rush of adrenaline in me. Before I could go out of control, I calmed down and started rummaging each book.

Back in our house, there were also tons of books that were placed on a small shelf near my bed. But father and mother made sure to throw away all my fiction books such as fairy tales and poems, varying from William Shakespeare and the brothers Grimm. 

The books they left were all non-fiction books that cover most of history, philosophy and language. I never went to any school so the only person who taught me was myself. Sometimes I would pay the butlers to buy me academic books because women are not ble to purchase any learning books.

I slowly eyed each title of each book until I stopped when one of the book titles caught my eye. The name “Peter Pan” was written on the side of the book. I brushed my hands on the green leather cover and pulled it out of the shelf as I sat down on the marble floor to read the storybook I have just discovered.

Hesitant as I may be, I started reading the first lines of the story book when I heard a soft rustle behind me. I was confused with what that sound was but I decided to ignore it and went back to reading.

“Peter is a little boy who decided never to grow up. He lives in a far away Never Land, full of adventures and fun. The children loved to hear stories about him and Peter himself would come flying down and sit on the nursery window sill to hear the stories,” I read carefully.

“Peter Pan? It is not that great honestly. If I were to give it a rating, it would be a six out of ten. If you do really want a great story you should try Hansel and Gretel or Rumpelstiltskin.” 

I quickly jumped because of a voice I heard behind me. I immediately threw the hard book on the person’s face without thinking and backed away from him as fast as I could. My heart was pounding really loud and I was trying to calm myself when he spoke another word.

“Ouch! Hey, I was just voicing my opinion.” The boy rubbed the red spot on his head.

“W-what are you doing here?” I asked, trying to hide the hint of nervousness in my voice as I continued to rub my chest to calm myself down.

“Well, this is my family’s estate. I have every right to be here.” He slowly took my hand and dropped himself into a low but elegant curtsy.

“Gavin,” he spoke. “It is nice to finally meet the future heir of the Revington family.”

“Is that what you take me for? Just an heiress to some fortune?” I tried to keep my cool to prevent further outbursts but it made me angry to know that people only see me as something low as that.

“Well, quite frankly, I barely know anything about you. Honestly, everyone does not.”

My heart plunked when I heard those words from him. Like I said, the thing I hated the most was solitude. I had no friends nor acquaintances. My birthday parties were dull and only my maids and butlers were there to accompany me every year. During social gatherings, my parents do not invite me either. Because they are frightened. They are scared of me and the emotions I have. Emotions that would ruin our family’s name. 

“Come to think of it, if you want me to know you. Then, we should hang out.” He gave me a grin.

“What do you mean?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you know. Play in the garden, read thousands of story books and eat the biscuits in the dining room. Although, do not tell mother about the last one.” He chuckled. 

“So what do you say?” He gave me an encouraging look. 

For my whole life, I lived under my family’s shadow and history. Hidden from this world and trained to ignore any hint of emotion coming from my heart. I learned to be an emotionless monster, slowly turning into my parents. I want to play and have fun, to bury my head in books and to… feel love.

Leaving all of the worries and hesitation behind, I grabbed his hand as we both explored the beautiful wonders of the Vaughn Manor. I felt the sweat trickle down my forehead as we both played to death on their playground. From the swings, seesaws and mazes. I felt the bliss of joy in every laughter that escaped from our mouths. We lost ourselves in the big library reading books from history and to story tales. 

“So what is your favourite?” He asked with a smile.

“I am still loyal to Peter Pan,” I remarked.

“Well, then I must defeat this Peter Pan so I will be your new favourite, huh?” He gave me a cheeky grin making my heart skip a beat. I quickly ignored the reaction and went on with the rest of the day.

The sky starts to grow darker as the sun begins to set. Both of us were sitting in the garden, eating biscuits that Benedict stole from their kitchen.

“Do they taste good?” he asked. I nodded in response.

He looked at me hesitantly before opening his mouth again. “My family will be leaving for Wales tomorrow.”

I looked down on my feet and felt my shoulders lump. Gavin was the only true person that I have been with where I enjoyed every moment of our time together. To see him go was indeed a disappointment.

He noticed my reaction and without me knowing he plucked a little dandelion from the garden. 

“Here is a little promise. When I reach the right age, I will come find you. Let this dandelion be the symbol of my promise.” 

He then blew the dandelion making it’s white petals flow in the air as they became one with the sky. As he was focused on the dandelions flying in the sky, I looked at him and started to admire his image. His tousled brown hair, his strikingly green eyes and the smile that never fades. Without noticing words started to slip from my very mouth. 

“I could watch you everyday.” A voice said. It took me seconds to realize that the voice belonged to me. Gavin turned his head to face me, his face full of surprise and confusion. 

Then, I became anxious. I started to breathe faster. My chest was starting to tighten and my lungs could not hold it anymore. Before I knew it, I was gasping for air. Gavin quickly held both my shoulders and asked me what was happening but I could not reply. I held my mouth and ran away from him as far as I could because I did not want him to know. I did not want him to be afraid of me.

I locked myself inside the gardener’s house and started coughing uncontrollably. Loud coughs were escaping my mouth as I tried to choke for air.

I looked down on my palms to see dozens of purple lilac flowers were escaping my mouth as I coughed.

“Purple lilacs… means first love.” I whispered to myself and gasped.

That was the day I met Gavin Vaughn. That was the day where I first felt the word “love”.