Once Beloved by Amara Royce

Riding in the cart was a dusty mess, to be sure, but really. That coach was entirely unappealing. On the other hand, Mr. Lanfield’s cart was at least roomy and comfortable, and he was a perfectly nice man with an almost fatherly manner. She felt sure they could trust him to watch over them, which she could not have said of the coachmen. He was the kind of man she could picture Billy becoming in a few short years. Billy was nearly as tall and as broad, but his body hadn’t the same confidence that Mr. Lanfield’s conveyed. But she could see Billy growing into that man as he climbed through the ranks at Dyson’s. He wouldn’t be a clerk forever, and she would be proud to stand by his side, as a good woman should.
    â€œHold tight,” Mr. Lanfield called over his shoulder. A moment later, the whole cart bounced and shook as they rumbled over what must have been enormous ruts in the road. The straw bales might not be the height of comfort and luxury, but they were enough to cushion the blow. The coach’s wooden benches would surely have been less forgiving.
    Several uneventful minutes later, she couldn’t help but notice that Auntie Helena still clung to the side of the cart rather desperately. Her aunt’s face was pale and blotchy, and she stared into the distance with a strange, empty look.
    â€œMr. Lanfield! Please stop! Something is wrong!” she shouted. Auntie didn’t react at all. Her eyes were open, unblinking, and her breathing was rapid and shallow. She followed her aunt’s gaze but saw only the same road, the same landscape, she’d seen for miles. What in heaven’s name was the matter? Her skin prickled with anxiety. What should she do?
    Mr. Lanfield glanced back from his seat and immediately eased the cart to the side of the road. He would know how to help her aunt!
    â€œWhat’s happening?” he asked, turning in his seat.
    â€œI don’t know! Before we hit that rough patch of road, she was fine. Now she seems to be in some sort of trance.” She cringed at the alarm in her own voice. Don’t be a child, Ness. But this wasn’t like Auntie’s previous spells in which she slipped into unconsciousness. Now she looked horribly awake but seemed to be experiencing something unconnected to her actual time and place. Something was happening in her mind to cause that terrified—and terrifying—expression. “What can this be? What do we do?”
    Quickly, he secured the cart and climbed into the back. He knelt before her aunt, his brow furrowed.
    â€œThis one of her spells?” He clapped his hands directly in front of Auntie’s face, but there was no change.
    â€œNo! It’s never been like this before! I have no idea what this is.” Her head felt full to bursting with the stress. She hated feeling so helpless, so incompetent. She dug into her satchel for the bottle of salts her mother had given her for emergencies. “Here. Perhaps this may work anyway.”
    He took out the stopper and waved it under Auntie’s nose. Vanessa held her nose to block out the pungent smell, but it still took several moments before her aunt reacted.
    â€œDon’t let them!” Auntie’s whole body tensed even more. Her eyes opened even wider, but whatever she saw wasn’t in the here and now. The terror in her voice was chilling. “Isaiah, don’t leave me! They’re not our concern! Please, I beg you, drive on!”
    â€œWake up, Helena,” Mr. Lanfield said forcefully. “Where are you? Come back. You’re safe, Lena. Now come back to us.” His voice rumbled like thunder. He shouldn’t talk so familiarly to her aunt! He shouldn’t look at her so—an ear-piercing whistle from him made her wince and made Auntie jump. Perhaps she couldn’t fault him for his approach, if it worked. Aunt Helena blinked a few times and then stood shakily, nearly knocking the bottle from Mr.