1. Godfrey/Eleanora

Godfrey Halfacre was not a man of many mysteries. In fact, to the discerning gaze, his hawkish features, sharp nose and angular chin sporting a respectable mustache and goatee, told a story very similar to most aristocratic boys. A life of luxury, built by his forefathers with blood, and steel, and empire. Fresh off the airship, clad in a dark cloak hiding a red satin waistcoat and a fine green necktie, his gait is that of a boy, fresh out of university, still learning to wear the drapes of a man.

About him the airship port hummed with life, the sweltering heat of the travel hub had to be constantly vented out, huge turbines slowly rotated high above. With their constant, low whirring, the hustle and bustle of the crowds, and the grinding and roaring of the steam engines keeping airships aloft, it took a bit of strain to speak above the din.

“King’s Cross Station, my dear! What did I say?!” Godfrey stepped in front of his wife on the platform, spreading his arms out wide, gesturing at the whole of the station. Positioned more than 200 feet in the air, the docks jutted out over a great expanse of open air in which the massive airships would park and depart.

Eleanora smiled at him, shaking her head. “Yes yes, you DID say it was big!”

“Big?!” He grabbed her by the waist. “Dearest, this place ... this is the epicenter of the entire empire. Airships from all over the world, from India to China and Africa, from the Colonies in America and even Australia, all of them find their way here. They say all roads lead to Rome, but the skies belong to the Halfacre house!”

She giggled and pushed him off. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, the sky is the sky! Why and wherefore would it care any about you or me?” Eleanora gave him a look. “Besides, your family owns hardly twenty percent of the air trade!”

“OUR family, dearest, and that’s twenty percent and counting! My grandfather purchased a new fleet of nearly two hundred ships just this past month. The old bag says he bought it as a gift for me, but I get the feeling he just forgot about my birthday and decided to wrap up any old thing he had lying around.”

The two of them made their way through the skyport, briefly stopping to show documentation to a customs officer. The lanky officer took his time studying Eleanora’s papers, crinkling up his mustache as he glanced through them.

His eyes ran up and down Eleanora’s thin figure, picking apart her dress and studying her pendent and fine white lace choker, lingering on the beautiful copper red hair tumbling down towards her thin, pale, supple shoulders.

“It says here you’re ... Irish, miss?...” Eleanora’s embarrassment was palpable, “Yes, I suppose I am, sorry...” She tried to control her accent, but in times of stress she could always feel it slip back into words just a bit.

The customs officer glanced back down at the papers, catching a brief glance at her breasts on the way down, bared as they were in her low cut dress. “Yes well, you’ll have to submit to further inspection, just a simple precaution in consideration of the current situation in Ireland. We’ll also be conducting a brief medical examination to confirm you won’t be bringing to England any diseases-” Godfrey gave an impatient snort, using his cane to direct the officer’s attention towards his own papers.

The man’s look of annoyance turned at once a shade paler. “A-ah! Master Halfacre, sir! My apologies, I ought not to have held you up!” The officer practically jumped out of his chair, giving a kind of awkward half bow and shuffling their papers back towards them. “It’s only my job sir, we have to be wary of certain types, y-you understand!”

“I understand that if you ever cast your eye at my wife again, with suspicion or otherwise, I will have you thrown off of this skyport.” Godfrey tapped his cane against the floor tiles.

The man reluctantly withdrew his gaze from the beautiful Eleanora, grimacing with frustration, but not daring to look any higher than the floor.

Godfrey leaned in. “Would you happen to know who owns King’s Cross Station, Mr...” He paused to glance down at the officer’s name, etched into his uniform. “Ward.”

“Ah, yes sir, that would be Mr. Cornelius Halfacre, sir.”

“Wrong.” Godfrey spun his cane around in his fingers. “As of today my grandfather Cornelius is transferring ownership of all Halfacre holdings into my name, his one and only heir. Do you know what that means?”