Chapter 4

London, England 1836

            “Jane Austen,” Seulgi mumbled against her fingers.  She ran a wary eye along the thick of her bookshelf before turning away towards her study.  Jane Austen was a romantic novelist.  Stacks of books littered her floor, and she found many of them to be romantic.  It made her heart beat, her mind tick and her feelings intertwine.

            Feelings confused the seventeen-year-old girl, who closed herself off from people, and strayed away from the extremes.  Adventure and excitement seemed like an unreachable goal, a painting she would never be able to recreate.  What made people cry?  Laugh?  Angry?  Certainly, not being able to understand anger, angered her.  She sighed in frustration, and the books closed themselves.  As she glanced at the dreary sky outside, a surge of warmth swelled within her, and her coat came to wrap itself around her frame.  Then, a worn red scarf flew, only to land loosely around her neck.

            She couldn’t name the warmth, but relished in it, and hoped it was a glimmer of courage.  Though the small of her couldn’t help but think it was cowardice. 

            Not once had she ventured from her small flat without the company of the man in the grey suit.  Though he had never particularly restricted leaving, it seemed to Seulgi to be an understood rule, a leash of some sort.

            She scratched the flesh around her finger.

            The wind was harsh and bitter, stinging the underside of Seulgi’s nose before billowing through her hair.  The loose strands whipped her face.  It was stranger to walk long distances than she had remembered, but she couldn’t find the will to stop.  Her calves ached by the time she had made it to the square.  Merchants filled the streets to offer tempting goods and promises of satisfaction, but they meant nothing to Seulgi.

            By the time the sun had totally disappeared behind the dark clouds, Seulgi had situated herself on a bench by the train station.  Perhaps if she couldn’t find what she was looking for, she would find something within the change of scenery.

            Seulgi noted her sightings.  The smiles, the tears and the laughter that rung through the smog-filled air.  Words never felt as fitting as they should have been.  She sighed.  The outing was as unfruitful as staying i