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Ainsley
As I sat in the vicinity of the cliff’s edge just over the hillside of my parents’ sprawling manor, the orange radiance of sunset was amplified, as an earsplitting explosion sounded overhead. The battle raging in the distant sky had captured my attention, thrusting me into an almost dreamlike state. The noise rushed toward me in a second wave, causing me to jump as I sucked in a sharp breath. I could practically feel the vibrations of combat crashing into me. The booming echo across the now-smoke-filled sky startled my best friend Jackson, who was idly lying in the grass alongside my stool.
“Jackson,” I shouted as he kicked out and abruptly struck my painting. The easel wobbled and my canvas slid sideways, falling to the ground in what seemed like slow motion.
I grumbled under my breath as I tried to maneuver the wet painted artwork within the tall grasses, blowing in the wind and sticking to the image like flies in a spider’s web.
A snort to my right drew my attention, and I glowered at Jackson as he brushed at his tailored trousers. “Ains, it was hardly a masterpiece,” he teased with a smirk.
Another blast sounded over the cliff’s edge, and I gazed toward the horizon. I could feel the corners of my mouth lift into a smile and quickly spread across my face into a wide grin. I watched an airship donning a pirate flag as it approached another vessel far in the distance. My heart thundered with excitement.
I moved swiftly to rise from the tufted pink stool and tripped over the hem of my dress. Suddenly, the air was forcefully sucked from my lungs, thanks to the stringent corset I was required to wear.
“Damnable thing.” I grunted as I tugged where my skirt and the underside of my corset met. “Disastrous—ugh—no good piece of…” I pulled at the corset one last time and heard a satisfying rip. “Garbage,” I shouted triumphantly.
I wiggled my body, finally free of the contraption that I loathed with every fiber of my being. I tossed the torn pieces of my horrid ensemble behind me and stared, mesmerized and in awe, as the explosions in the distance created a near melody within my soul.
Adventure.
“Ainsley.” Jackson approached, standing closer to me as I swayed toward the cliff’s edge as though in a trance, my white-blonde hair cascading around my shoulders and down my back. “We really should get to the ball. Your parents are expecting us.”
Jackson’s request brought reality buzzing back to me like a mass of hovering bees, itching to sting me and chasing my adventurous song right out of my mind. He had no idea what I longed for, what I dreamed of… And it was certainly not a damned pretentious ball.
“Mmm-hmm.”
I owed my presence at the ball to my parents, especially given that the ball itself was to announce my own eligibility to marry. That did not mean I had to like it nor look forward to the event.
Marriage. My insides clenched at the thought. Why would I want to marry when there was much more life to live outside of Rookhallow Proper? My chest tightened again, even with the relief of ripping my corset to shreds. This time, even the beauty and exhilaration of the adventure taking place in the sky couldn’t brighten the dark wanderings of my mind.
Being the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Rookhallow Proper brought about responsibilities I’d always struggled with. I’d never felt settled as their daughter. Not that I didn’t love my mother and father—I did—but we didn’t see eye to eye on many things regarding my future. I wanted to be free from the burdens of proper society, like the damnable corset I’d been wearing.
I took a few steps back, away from the edge of Rookhallow Cliff and felt my heel punch through something on the ground.
Jackson snorted. “Well, my dear, now it is definitely ruined.”
I bent down to pick up the very-much destroyed painting and rose to stare at the vessel I’d been drawn to capturing before the pirate ship had arrived. Painting, of course, had been my mother’s, Duchess Gwendolyn’s, idea. She’d said it would take my mind off the fantasies I read in my beloved books. I wasn’t a complete nincompoop. I was quite aware they were fantasies after all, but I dreamed of a world where I could breathe fresh air into my lungs amidst the soaring skies, dance in the rain, sing and twirl barefoot beneath the moonlit night without judgment. Painting out here offered me an escape, while I was still able to do as I was told. After all, Mother hadn’t ordered me to stay in my room and paint before the ball. She’d only ordered me to paint.
I ran my fingers over the image I’d attempted, allowing the still-wet paint to spill onto my hands. “Jackson, have you ever thought that perhaps we’re meant for more?”
My question came out soft and uncertain. I had never felt comfortable in my own skin. While I happily lived inside my fantasies, I’d only shared a scant few dreams with Jackson. He may be my best friend, yet, speaking my mind to him in this manner felt foreign—odd. But the loneliness of feeling as though I were the only one in the world who felt out of place was worse than garnishing a laugh from him at the moment.
However, the laugh I’d been expecting didn’t come. When I still heard nothing, I faced my best friend.
He observed me with a puzzled expression. “What more do you want than the life you’ve been chosen to live, Ainsley Lilstrum?” His question was laced with brashness, and a slight degree of judgment I hadn’t been expecting.
I hesitated to respond, and in my pause, Jackson continued:
“You’re the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Rookhallow Proper. You can influence anyone with your charm. Education and society are all within your grasp. What else do you suppose is out there?”
I opened my mouth, filled with defiance. Before I could respond, another thunderous crash detonated across the sky, reverberating in my ears, but this time, it was backed with a gust that tossed me to my knees. The battle had moved closer. I whipped my head around to see the ship I’d attempted to paint, blasted to pieces.
The victorious pirate ship briefly hovered in the air, and the faint noise of battle cries and cheers made their way toward our position on the cliff. The vessel pulled its sails and moved on, as though nothing had happened at all.
Jackson rose from his bended knee. He’d caught himself much better than I had. The unexpected blast caused my heart to thump so loudly within the confines of my chest, that his words were now muffled. The anger on his face was so apparent, I was almost glad I couldn’t hear the full volume of his voice.
“Is that what you want? Out there?” He waved his arm and pointed toward the wreckage. “Villains? Pirates destroying our Air fleet? For what? Stealing goods? Wake up, Ainsley. You’re about to be introduced to society for marriage.”
I lowered my head, furious with him but understanding at the same time, which made my feelings that much worse. I was fascinated with adventures and pirates—but they were, in fact, criminals. And they had just killed a fleet of our men.
