A single starling with its multicolored dots around the feathers landed chirping outside the windowsill of the comfortable nook, tapping its little dark beak against the wavy surface of the glass. Perhaps reminding The Dilamor estate of the fine duty to refill the weaved net of the bird feeder, how very inconsiderate of them to leave it empty hanging from a tree branch beside the horse stable. A tree which intruded over the fence, and which Sophia had then decided to make useful although it might’ve come and bite her as it seemed. A free of charge, hungry morning wake-up call.
Sophia stretched herself tall, greeted with the scent of dried flowers above— the ceiling now almost covered with small bouquets of the forest wildflowers of different shapes and colors, ’’Good morning, mom and dad.’’ Sophia whispered while rubbing away the tender dream from her eyes. She pulled the blanket on the side and let her legs fall down lazily from the edge. The gentle waves of her long luscious golden hair draped over the breasts and down to touch the thighs. Her thin white cotton nightgown with a small ribbon tied at front began to feel cold against her skin without the blanket’s warmth gathered underneath.
It was Sophia’s twentieth birthday. Always celebrated early in the calendar before the snow had melt, yet close enough to days when the green grass would begin to peek through. It seemed to be very early in the morning estimated by the dimness of the room. Since it was still technically winter, the days were a few hours shorter than in any other season, but would stretch longer by each passing minute. Sophia found herself lucky to wake up early. She could finally execute the plan impossible in the previous years, since Bill would always get up earlier and beat her to it.
She stretched her bare feet and found the one wooden panel on the floor she knew would not make any sound, being about the only one. She tiptoed by the wooden treasure chest against the opposite wall that had her clothes for the day neatly folded on top of one another. Sophia adjusted the dark blue skirt and loved the soft feeling of the thick wool stockings beneath hugging around the hips, knowing they’d keep her warm with the black high leather boots waiting downstairs by the entrance.
Sophia took her small crossbody bag which Marié had made for her on one of Madam Trusé’s classes. Marié did not know what she wanted to do after graduation, and tried a bit of everything. That bag was detailed and well made with quality leather, delicate light brown embroidered flowers around you’d have to really look to notice. It was a lovely gift, and Sophia was saddened when Marié did not stay on the path of becoming a seamstress, for she was very talented— but instead found baking to be her one true calling. And of course, Marié shined at that as well. Luckily, Sophia could have all the bread and sweets she could handle once Marié came back from her classes and now, Marié worked by the Mona family’s bakery, one day dreaming of turning her family home partially into a bakery as well. But that would have to be left as a distant dream, for there were already a couple of bakeries well established in The Town of Brifena.
Sophia sneaked her way slowly down the stairs, holding onto the whimsical wooden railing which definitely needed some good old nails and hammer. Each and every step created a unique creaking sound, forcing her to cringe, waiting to hear Bill’s bedroom door open any moment now. Normally she would be the one to wake up because of the noise that he made in the kitchen, or just by simply walking around the cabin.
When finally reaching the entrance after what felt like a journey on itself, Sophia pulled the light cream colored poncho over her head and let it fall all the way to her thighs. It was made out of wool from an alpaca, and might’ve been the most expensive item of clothing she ever owned. But also durable, since it was her third winter in a row to wear it almost daily. Bill had insisted they pick that one, and Sophia would allow him to win from time to time.
Once outside, Sophia took long steps over the thin layer of snow left, already rushing towards the town. The small hill was still covered in ice from some spots, which Sophia used to slide down, smiling from ear to ear while balancing with hands wide on the sides. A sudden chilly wind pushed through, and Sophia pulled the fluffy hood of the long poncho over her head, a few bright strands of hair peeking out and falling down at front.
’’Miss Sophia, aren't you early. Don’t tell me that old man slept in for once?’’ An elderly man enjoying his well deserved retirement was sipping a cup of warm coffee on a bench outside his house while Sophia reached the more narrow streets of the town, ’’And of course, happy birthday, child.’’ In a town where everyone lived nearby and not many things happened at all, things like birthdays, anniversaries and other occasions were well known around the folks.
’’Good morning, Sir.’’ Sophia bowed her head respectfully yet with a somewhat playful smirk as she walked more slowly. Using Sir to address any common man usually made them bask with delighted shyness, ’’How’d you know? Grandpa is sleeping like a log.’’ She giggled and made the old man’s day with it, ’’Thank you for the wishes.’’ No time to chitchat she waved her hand, picking up the pace again and disappearing in the arching alleyway which led closer towards The Town Square. She came across another early bird along the way, the lovely librarian who just gave birth two months ago, thanked her for the birthday wishes and replied with congratulations to her entire family as well.
Finally, Sophia came by the round, empty—and for once—peaceful Town Square with shops circling and creating a donut with the now frozen still fountain in the middle. She made her way towards the bakery and saw the lights turned on already along the thick white smoke from the chimney. Marié came out while struggling to carry the stand which read the day’s recommendation for freshly baked goods. It seemed to be a perfect day for sweet and savory hazelnut buns, finished with a dark cup of coffee.
Sophia noticed Marié’s hand slipping and rushed the last steps to hold the stand before her friend would fall along with it, ’’Sophié! Well I be damned—placed a bet with father which one of you would make it this year and it seems I’ve lost my coin.’’ She sneered jokingly at Sophia who tried not to dislocate her jaw with the way her mouth fell in utter disappointment.
’’My, that little faith in me?’’ Sophia gave Marié a once over with a smirk to challenge her own sarcastic remark.
’’Well, it has always been Bill who beats you to it. Still, Father never lost his faith in you.’’ Marié adjusted the stand perfectly and clapped her hands together with the job well done. Her long tight curly red hair always looked great no matter how she styled it, or chose not to style at all. The flames in her hair were lovely, and today Marié had decided to tie them back with a colorful silky scarf.
’’Unlike someone.’’ Sophia sighed, ’’Did you finish the cake I ordered?’’ She asked eagerly before the poor friend could even comprehend the accusation.
’’Of course, I did.’’ Marié took Sophia’s delicate features between the palms of her sweetly sugary scented hands. The hazel in Sophia’s round eyes had lost a lot of the childhood innocence, eyelids heavier gifting her with the hauntingly beautiful gaze, the color now a shade of lighter green, the brown glazed with a hint of honey. Just like her father’s eyes once he got a bit older. Sophia's eyelashes curved naturally, and cheeks would gather just the perfect amount of coral blush on the tips of the cheekbones. Her rusty deep red lips even puffier than usual with the cold air, ’’Grumpy Bill is going to be mad at you for doing this.’’ Marié pinched those cheeks with a scolding manner.
’’I doubt anyone would get mad at the birthday girl for getting her own cake.’’ Sophia shrugged calmly despite. She had nothing to worry about. It was particularly difficult to get Bill angry at almost anything she did.
’’Actions are the only way he knows how to show love.’’ Marié chuckled as she patted the apron creating clouds of flour and noticed some of it had gotten on Sophia, thus dusted her as well, ’’Come on in, I have it in a cake box ready for you.’’ She swayed her hand as a sign for Sophia to follow.
Immediately upon entering the bakery, Sophia couldn’t help but bask in the sweet scent of everything freshly made, eyes closed so she could sink in deeper. The bakery was small, only five small round tables for customers. The display window was large enough to show the whole entire shop from outside looking in, and the glass cabinet was always filled with whatever you could desire, not once was something ever completely sold— not because they did not sell, but because it was the owner’s principal. When something was going bad and could not be sold with heavy discounts, they’d send them in boxes by the school for the kids to enjoy. Not always the most profitable strategy, but definitely the most likable. When Marié came back with the cardboard cake box, Sophia noticed another smaller one resting above it.
’’What is this?’’ She pointed at the box with curious raised eyebrows.
’’My present for you, happy birthday Sophié!’’ Marié beamed with the joy of gift giving, this time anticipating the reaction with even more excitement. As Sophia opened the smaller box, she found four small handmade chocolates with one made out of dark chocolate with a chocolate glazed coffee bean on top of it, one with sprinkled coconut on top and two with dried raspberry resembling cute pink snowflakes.
’’Marié, look at these. I don’t know what to say—’’ Sophia’s eyes sparkled from the bakery shop’s lights while admiring the sweet, creamy desserts, ’’Thank you.’’
’’I think I’m getting better at the craft, don’t you think?’’ Marié asked, humble and eager to hear the opinion, ’’Who knows, perhaps I’ll end up serving The Royal Family of Magdam on one of their banquets one day.’’ She raised herself higher with pride, and rightfully so. Chocolate came from The Land of Naévy, the island where all the most luxuriant seeds could bloom handsomely from the depths of their Goddess endowed soil. Chocolate wasn’t something a normal person could afford often. It was a treat for special days only, and even then would it leave an empty dent in one’s purse. The fact that Marié was the one to prepare the pieces of confectionery meant that she got a hefty discount, thus Sophia couldn’t complain nor nag to use the money for something more useful— a factor Marié used to her advantage.
’’Definitely, you exceeded yourself.’’ Sophia closed the box careful not to drop it, ’’I’ll enjoy them with coffee this noon.’’ She promised yet would probably admire them for a couple of more days not dating to eat them right away. Sophia picked the cake box as well over both arms, and left with the help of Marié opening the door. The joyful jingle of the bell on top of the door upon opening wished the customers a good day and to please pay another visit soon.
’’Don’t slip and fall!’’ Marié yelled when she was already halfway through the Town Square, giggling at the now motherly Marié.
The sun began to peek from behind the mountains that had white frosting of snow as if sprinkled with sugar, but their main cabin still seemed dark with the lights turned off. Sophia wondered that Bill must’ve been very tired from last night, since he had been by Madam Heredina’s Pub enjoying a couple of pints the night prior. She adjusted the cake box, which had her precious chocolates on top, carefully on one raised thigh and opened the front door. Once by the entrance, Sophia lowered the boxes on the chest of drawers where they had all types of woolly hats and mittens and what other miscellaneous items. She undressed and just when she was about to pick up the boxes again, she heard a looming creaking sound behind the wall.
’’Look who’s back.’’
Sophia jumped from the low barely woken raspy voice coming from the dark corner, the owner of it now in the open for her to witness, ’’How—I was perfectly quiet.’’ She sighed, not at all disappointed for she had already acquired the cake as planned, and there would be nothing Bill could do to change that.
’’Trying to sneak out from an old shack like this is like placing a hand inside the mouth of an alligator just to see what could happen.’’ Bill yawned, meaning the creaking floors after each step Sophia had taken, impossible not to notice thus impossible not to lose one’s arm.
’’Gruesome comparison, but I like it.’’ Sophia smiled and carried the boxes on the kitchen table while Bill finally turned on the lights. She was glad that those boxes weren’t in her arms when Bill decided to scare her. That would’ve been unfortunate.
’’So?’’ Bill asked with those simple yet demanding two letters combined.
’’I simply graved a marzipan cake this time.’’ Sophia tried to sound as nonchalant as possible while busy with her task, setting the table.
’’You like chocolate.’’ Bill came to sit around the table, a raised eyebrow almost like a question which did not need an answer.
’’Sure, I do. But winter is almost over and it’s good to be mindful with money since—’’
’’The hell you worry about my coins for?’’ Bill interrupted with a grumpy creased forehead. He did not like how Sophia would always be frugal to the point of unnecessary even though they were more than well off. It made him feel as if she saw him as incompetent to last through winter. And he had been living the life of a woodcutter his entire life.
’’Language.’’ Sophia scolded him with a simple word, but only half serious with her wide smile and him huffing out a disbelieved chuckle.
’’I’m buying you a chocolate cake, end of discussion.’’ Bill got up ready to head towards the entrance. Chocolate had become expensive, sure, but if his granddaughter’s 20th birthday was not the day for such rare luxury, then he did not know what was.
’’Are you forcing me to blow the candle alone this year?’’ Sophia was one step ahead and already lit the single spiraling candle on top of the cake. The cake was layered with light blue marzipan and despite the season, it had dainty shapes of flowers—light pink and white squeezed with thick sugary cream—and Sophia knew with the first glance that the cake had been inspired by the cardigan which she used to always wear as a child. The cardigan which her mother had embellished with her delicate talent of embroidery, still kept in a shoebox neatly folded, away from the unnecessary moist and daylight along with the one-eyed Mr. Higgins. Only the late father’s notebook was kept out in the open and well used until this very day. Still many pages left untouched, waiting to be filled with knowledge and art and devoted observations.
’’Silly squid.’’ Bill grunted in his usual manner and plopped back on the chair, accepting his defeat.
’’Do not insult the squids, they are highly intelligent beings.” Sophia scolded yet again but this time with a laughter, ”Let us enjoy the cake, shall we? It looks delicious.’’ She smiled as she sat down beside Bill and handed him a porcelain plate which they used only on special occasions, ’’Cake for breakfast was my wish last year, lucky me.’’
’’You better one up you wishes this year, kiddo.’’ Bill leaned against the back of the chair and crossed his arms as he watched Sophia bring her fingers together whilst closing her eyes shut so tight it made wrinkles appear on the outer corners. The truth was that Sophia had nothing else to wish for. The first years after arriving in Brifena she wished for her parents happiness where ever they were. All she could do was hope and wish for a happy afterlife. Then, once Bill learned about her wish, he’d let it slide a couple of more years until saddened by her only wish not revolving around her for at least once a year, he snapped, and in his true manner—let it show. Thus, last year, Sophia wished to have cake for breakfast. And the wish did come true, did it not? Which could mean that her wishes from the years prior could also be fulfilled. Wishful thinking, but still brought a hopeful smile on her lips.
Sophia finished making her wish, simple and sweet. She wished to have cake for breakfast next year as well. It was a good wish after all, and Bill did not have to know about it. Could not risk it being jinxed and not coming true. Sophia had everything she could ever imagine and more. A loving grandfather whether he admitted it or not, friends, hobbies, a job and a roof over her head. What more could she wish for? Except for cake.
’’Better not be a wish-repeater again this time.’’ Bill cut a piece for Sophia first, might as well had placed the whole entire cake in front of her for the size of it.
’’It was efficient, leave it be.’’ Sophia squinted a side eye as she accepted the heavy, overflowing plate. For himself, Bill cut a tiny thin little line of barely anything. He did not enjoy the sweets that much, saying it was unnecessary for the body and meat would keep him working for twice as long. He pretended not to hear when Sophia reminded how too much meat could be bad for his heart.
Bill kept beside Sophia although he finished his piece with two spoonfuls, believing it to bring bad luck if he left her eating alone around the table. He wasn’t superstitions by all means, but it all stemmed from a fear after Gregory had been small and nearly choked on a piece of apple, but Bill wouldn’t say such reasons out loud. He did not like seeing her alone around mealtime anyway, it made her look lonely. And he did not want to be alone either.
’’I have you a gift.’’ Bill said suddenly, reaching for something in the pocket of his trousers. Sophia lowered the spoon quietly yet bursting with anticipation. Receiving a gift from Bill was like being hugged for eternity. It was like being told how important you were, how much you matter and how they were happy to have you there. It was all that, and more. Bill would not go out of his way to get anyone a gift out of obligation. He would only when he cared enough to do so. And he did not care for a lot of things. Bill handed a thin hard box which had her initials written in a special kind of ink, dipped in gold dust giving its glimmer no matter what direction the light shined from. Sophia knew that this time he had gone too far out of his way. She stared at the box and her initials, already feeling like it was enough. Afraid that whatever was inside of that beautiful gift would make her lose her mind, ’’I ain’t got all day, kid.’’ Bill continued in his one true mannerless manner.
’’Do not rush me, I am savoring the moment.’’ Sophia smiled and finally began to lift the lid of the box. There, on a comfortable smooth cushion rested a black pen with a single golden ring as a simple yet beautiful detail, which also had her initials S.D. carved on the side of it with the same golden sharp way. Whoever made the details deserved to be praised personally for the precise talent of maybe the most stable hands in all of Frahan. Sophia breathed out as she picked the present with careful fingertips. Turning it around she could see it was a special kind of pen, which could be filled with thickened ink from the top and when the stopper was taken off, the pen pushed against the surface of a paper, it would release the ink slowly, allowing very precise and detailed finish for its sharp metal tip, like a quill, but without the constant dipping, ’’Oh grandpa, I love it.’’ Her eyes were teary. It was exactly what she had been admiring by the display window at one of the alleyways from the side of Town Square. A small, tightly crammed shop owned by a man who always layered many different patterned clothes on top of one another, a scarf hanging from the neck and his signature grey buzz cut with small yellow tinted glasses on the nose. Effusive and extra, just like the selection in his extraordinary shop. It never ceased to amaze Sophia how he was able to get his hands in the most interesting items from around Frahan.
Sophia rushed to get her father’s old notebook from the living room where she had left it the night before, and carefully foisted the metallic hook on the stopper between the leather cover and the first page, ’’I’ll use it well.’’ Sophia hugged the notebook along with the pen close to chest, radiating with great gratitude while Bill only answered with his usual grunt and a pleased nod which held in more emotions than anyone could ever notice.
After finishing her plate, Sophia placed the cake back in the cardboard cake box and went by the neighbors to share the leftovers. She knocked on the door gently, not wanting to disturb the possible nap time. Soon, Derrik Monree came whilst holding the little Marvy in his arms. Derrik’s dark curly hair had turned slightly more grayish, but one would not be able to guess his age let alone see him as a grandfather, ’’Sophia, happy birthday.’’ He let her in, already knowing the drill. Each birthday morning she’d share the cake they had bought, and this year it would be little Lady Marvy’s first taste of sugar as well.
’’Thank you, Derrik.’’ Sophia had always stayed very polite to Marié’s parents ever since she was a child, after all, her own parents had taught her to never address anyone by their first name unless they allow it first— and Monree’s had allowed such small matters upon the first proper conversations, ’’Remind me again, how long was it until Tristan’s return? Let me know if there is anything I can help with.’’
’’He should be arriving in two more months.’’ Derrik answered while trying to hold Marvy still as she forced her way in Sophia’s arms, squirming and beginning to whine annoyedly unless her grandfather yielded.
Tristan Klonfar was once a young ten year old boy who began school together with Marié and Sophia. He had light brown straight hair and tanned skin, good with all types of sports and always taller than all the peers. Marié had her eyes stuck on his back from day one, and through those six years of school, the two shared secret glances whenever they could although not once meeting each other. Like the wrong sides of magnet meant for each other, if they could simply turn around and face one another. That would be the case, until the day of graduation. Tristan had brought flowers and asked her to the graduation ceremony held by the Town Square that very same evening— and of course, the teary eyed Marié agreed with excitement. From that day on, the two had become an item and after two years, once both turned eighteen, they got married and expected their first child. Marvy Klonfar. A beautiful baby with reddish-brown curly hair and gorgeous tanned skin and brown eyes.
Tristan worked as a courier, often traveling between smaller town’s and villages which were not nearby at all and required many days just to reach. He delivered goods depending on the needs and what his horse carriage was loaded with on that specific trip. Because of that, he was often away for weeks, even months on end, but the pay was good. This arrangement was approved by Marié’s parents who would step in to help with raising Marvy, as often times grandparents, aunties and uncles stayed nearby their relatives and family members to offer help. In the best case scenario, families with children could also rely on other town’s folks, since it was seen as a great honor to be able to assist with providing daycare or even just few hours of rest for the often exhausted parents.
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However, as Marvy turned one year old, Marié’s mother Vivian was diagnosed with a rare case of cancer in her lungs. At first, she blamed the fits of coughs leaving red on the handkerchief as a simple, prolonged cold. But as her health would keep deteriorating, Derrik insisted along with the town’s doctor's recommendation that they visit the next Town of Lufin since they did not have a hospital in Brifena. Vivian had been reluctant at first, insisting her daughter and granddaughter needed her, thus Sophia reassured her that she’d help with whatever was needed. Eventually, Vivian with her pale green complexion agreed, and she had stayed in the hospital ever since.
’’When is your next trip to the hospital?’’ Sophia asked as she watched Derrik proudly enjoy the rest of the cake which his daughter had baked.
’’Next week. I shall stay with my wife for two months this time. It might—’’ Derrik paused for a moment, his lips shaking as he tried to compose himself. Managed to do so with the help of a tiny hand of Marvy’s coming to hold his cheek. A child will sense when an adult’s heart is heavy, ’’It’ll possibly be the final trip.’’ Sophia nodded somberly while staring down at her hands resting on the table, then traveling on the nearly demolished cake, mind as blue as the marzipan wondering how lovely it would've been to share the cake with Vivian— so she could’ve seen how well her daughter had once again improved with her work, ’’We have talked about it day and night. We’ve had to come to terms with the fact. I understand that this is hard on you, too. The spring is coming, also, and it will always mean a busy start for you and Billford.’’ Derrik continued.
’’Do not worry of such matters.’’ Sophia offered a gentle smile, ’’Grandpa Bill is more mindful and caring than he let assume. He will let me off the hook whenever Marié needs.’’
’’That is good to hear. I hate to leave my daughter and granddaughter alone like this.’’ Derrik offered a small piece of the cake to the joyful Marvy who sat on his lap, her eyes going round and sparkly from the flavors tasted never before, ’’Luckily we are blessed to have you.’’
’’Nonsense, you would do the same for me.’’ Sophia’s lips curved in a wider smile though her eyes stayed the same. She could see the weight on Derrik’s shoulder. His responsibility towards his daughter and granddaughter, the same responsibility towards his sick and slowly fading wife. She knew that if he could, he would tear himself apart to be in two places at once, but it simply was not possible, ’’Besides, Tristan should be back after two months around the same time. Although he is traveling through Agathen and near The Kingdom Central, two months will go by in a flash of a lightning.’’ She continued.
’’That is true. I thank you, Sophia.’’ Derrik offered a smile as well this time. It soothed Sophia to know he could still smile despite the darkened clouds hovering above The Western Agathen. Times had been hard, and they would continue to be from now on, thus Marié could use all the help she could get. And Sophia would not deny her any of it, ’’Too bad we all cannot be together for The one-hundredth Independence Celebration.’’
Sophia understood his frustration. There would only be one one-hundredth Celebration they’d get to witness all together— and it was said to become a spectacle of the century, yet Tristan would still be on his way back passing through a couple of more villages, and Derrik would accompany Vivian by the hospital so she wouldn’t be alone.
Whilst Derrik prepared to go out and run some errands by the Town’s Market, Sophia swayed tenderly on a rocking chair by the cute small nursery with Marvy pressed against her. Slowly drifting to sleep while clutching a fistful of Sophia’s shirt. The room only had all things necessary. A dresser, a wooden bed since Marvy learned how to climb over the cradle and it became dangerous, a chest for toys and the lovely rocking chair which Sophia and Bill had prepared as a gift. The walls had charming pale yellow wallpaper and the boards of the floor had were left unpainted to keep the room fun and light. It was still noon, but Derrik would be out for a couple of hours before Marié retuned from her early shift by the bakery. Sophia would stay there, soothing the child with the old children’s tale familiar from her own childhood— Summer's Dandelions.
They grow and grow and graze the sky,
The sun will flare and through the dusk,
They gently sway and twine and shine,
Until the dandelions fly.
And thus fell asleep little Marvy, successfully and skillfully as Sophia was at soothing her to the land of innocent wonder. The now two year old little girl had gotten very much attached to Sophia. She was the fun auntie after all who’d run around the fields with her ever since she learned to run before walk, teach new words which Marvy then repeated with her cute little voice, bring her snacks and draw magnificent pictures while lying on the floor side by side. It was incredible to Sophia, seeing her best friend becoming a mother, but not lose her fun and cheerfully childish side either. Marié was a great mother. Perfect balance of caring, soft-spoken, fun and play. Although at times Sophia could see her missing Tristan dearly—they had basically grown into adulthood together after all—but Tristan had another motive besides providing for his family when taking the job as a courier, and it was to make Marié’s dream of owning her very own bakery come true. He had not mentioned about it yet to Marié, or to anyone if that mattered, but planned on doing so in the near future after enough silver and gold coins gathered. And every time he did return, he would devote the time to only share with the two most important ladies in his whole entire world.
Little Marvy still enjoyed the much needed nap, comfy and bundled in her blanket with tiny pictures of bunnies all around, and Derrik was still out doing some shopping for the weekend ahead. Sophia sat around the living room of the Monree-Klonfar household, comfortably half-lying on the couch with feet up on the low table, reading the book about usage of flowers in medicine—more specifically—the chapter of Winter flowers safely used in ancient medicine. It was her favorite book at the moment, and would be nearly impossible to get her attention once she opened the lovely deep red cover. So much so she had not noticed Marié enter the cabin until she already plopped beside her on the couch with a tired relieved huff.
’’Should we go out today?’’ Marié raised her eyebrows while leaning her head over the back of the couch, sinking deeper in, ’’Father has been insisting me to go and break the cycle.’’
’’And go where?’’ Sophia did not take her eyes off the book although acknowledging her friend, ’’Madam Heredina’s Pub? Surely you do not ask me to go there after last time?’’
’’Of course I am! We should, should we not?’’ Marié stayed determined, ’’It is your 20th birthday, after all. A fat round zero deserves a celebration.’’
’’I don’t feel like it.’’ Sophia sighed.
’’Is it because of Harry?’’ Marié asked, feigning her shock. Sophia and Harry had never batched things up after the tumultuous childhood crossfire, not once in the past ten years had they gotten along. Yet Harry would still act flirtatious, try and make it seem as if he was actually interested in Sophia despite them never getting along. Which Sophia thought was the deception of the century, and he always went by Madam Heredina’s Pub nearly each weekend, making the possible percentage of running into him nearly one hundred out of hell-no.
’’You know me so well.’’ Sophia smiled, ’’It would be torture instead of a party.’’
’’Please.’’ Marié began to plead, knowing how it would struck just the right switch in Sophia’s wired brain, ’’Think of it like this—we go and have a pint each, then quickly come back home and can say that we went outside and actually did something. Simple as that.’’ She fluttered her deep red eyelashes so intensely they might as well make her fly. Sophia’s lip turned up, unamused. But Marié had worked and taken care of little Marvy day and night without a break for the past two years, repeating the same never-ending routine, thus if not for her, at least the evening out would be beneficial to Marié.
’’Fine.’’ Sophia placed the stained emerald green hair ribbon as a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. She could not throw away the poor item after that certain someone ruined its perfection, ’’But only one pint, and no more.’’ She pointed her finger at Marié who answered with an agreeing wide grin, one which made Sophia nervous, no, absolutely terrified for the possible accidental second pint on the way.
Sophia went back home when Marvy waddled out of her nursery, like a small tired penguin from The Tempe Deur’s icy lakes. Sophia did not bother going through the proper gates of the stone fence, but opted to jump over it while lifting up the calf length skirt. Not very lady-like, but then again, she did grow up with a woodcutter as her one family, although the Monree’s next door would teach her about the proper etiquette if she’d ever find herself in a situation which required such sophisticated dramatization of one’s character.
Sophia noticed that Bill must be by the stable feeding Bruno, their dark brown bristled trusty horse. She walked the stairs up towards her room and went by the dark wooden chest, kneeling down she raised the heavy hinged lid until it leaned against the wall behind. Sophia began to go through the items not worn often such has scarfs, pants, wool socks— and finally came across the dress she had been safekeeping for any type of outing in the future. It was Vivian who once told her that every Lady needed a dress as beautiful as the bright full moon on a clear, frosted winter sky when she had taken the girls shopping. Vivian truly was a great mother figure to have, although entirely different from what she remembered her own mother to be like. Vivian felt like the comfort Sophia always longed for, whether she noticed it or not. Once she had heard of Vivian’s condition, it broke her into pieces which she could not show in front of the already shattered Marié. Instead, she swore to be her rock and hold it together for the both of them.
The dress was heavy, thick velvet material perfect shade of Mifarn’s finest red wine, perfectly tailored and accustomed to her petite features and a lovely wide hem down above the ankles. A sweetheart neckline and long fitted sleeves. The dress had no pearls, no diamonds nor other gemstones. It had not been sewed with golden nor silver yarn. By itself, as a matter of fact, the dress looked rather dull and perhaps too ordinary to be for any occasion, yet too fancy to wear on a regular day. But Madam Trusé had suggested the dress for that very reason. You see, once someone with as much natural, effortless beauty as Sophia wore a dress which could not shine on its own, no matter how beautiful the seamstress’s shop was, it would undoubtedly be brought to life by simply her. And whilst Sophia found Madam Trusé’s words corny, although she wouldn’t say it out loud not to be unnecessarily rude, she did find herself admiring the very same dress from the mirror once it was hugging her body like a glove made for her. Instead, she felt like the dress brought out something new and unexpected in her, and not the other way around. But it was hard to see your own beauty when you have been looking at yourself for your whole entire life. Sometimes it needed to be recognized by others around you.
Sophia and Marié had agreed to meet outside later that evening, leaving a good few hours to finish work around the cabin. On top of that, she had to let Bill know about the outing. He would not disagree— she was an adult after all and the ban of going outside after 6pm had been lifted once she turned seventeen years old. And it wasn’t like Bill had anything to worry about anyway, since Sophia much more preferred studying her books instead of running around outside all night.
It was everyday for people to marry and settle down young, and some would say she had passed the most typical age to do so, but there were other paths as well not looked down on at all. Some poured their heart and soul into whatever their craft was. And then the far other end, with those gifted with Yumne Dir. Becoming a Dir Naer and studying at Mifarn’s Temples did not require anyone to stay unmarried nor did it demand celibacy— but many still avoided relationships due to the nature of their work. They were highly appreciated, worked in various secret settings inside The Kingdom’s Palace. It might’ve been others too afraid to get close to them, or their work load preventing close affairs from forming entirely. Although there was one man deemed more beautiful than many women compared, Esrath Dir Naer. His hair was almost silver as ice. His eyes were hauntingly translucent, skin as pale as a dove. Sophia had heard rumors of people being too nervous to even look his way, but once they did, they would not be able to stop.
’’That’s unusual.’’ Bill lowered the newspaper on his lap by the fluffy living room couch which ate anyone alive who sat on it, as Sophia walked in with her wine red velvet dress, hair up on a high ponytail with a matching velvet ribbon still reaching down the middle of her back, carrying black boots with a bit more height on the heels, ’’But then again, you don’t go out much. Just avoid that Ohara kid or else I—’’
’’I get it.’’ Sophia interrupted him with a scrunched up nose and a little smile to go with it, ’’No need to tell me that.’’
’’Curfew by 10pm.’’ Bill yelled at Sophia’s back, but knew he had no say whatsoever on the matter, and better yet, knew she would only giggle as she already could be heard slamming the thick wooden front door shut.
Marié was already waiting by the fence, rubbing the cold hands together. Sophia didn’t know she’d be so eager, but then again, it was soon time for little Marvy’s night routine and Marié did not want to disturb the peace by leaving as the little one was about to begin supper, so Marié had decided to head out early to make things easier for her father who was up for the challenge.
The sky was clear due to the frost which lowered the temperature towards the evening. Sophia noticed Marié looking up towards the sky, and brought her own chin up resulting into a soft gasp underneath the sight of millions of stars twinkling against the midnight blue. The moon was a lovely shape of crescent, like the most desired diamond out of all. Once the two reached Madam Heredina’s Pub, it was already buzzing with town folks. Lively and loud and completely wasted. A group of young men were smoking cigarettes outside at front, leaning against the wall. Sophia recognized a few of them to be from families of various business owners, and they recognized them too as they nodded towards the ladies very appropriately. After all, everyone knew who Sophia Dilamor’s grandfather was— and no one wanted to be on his bad side. Sophia only wished one particular man could have the same mindset, as she had already rejected Harry Ohara’s advances countless of times after graduation. The man was relentless, probably imagined that should he only persist, he’d be able to get what he wanted eventually. And grandpa Bill was this close to snapping and showing why other men in town were nervous, rightfully so. The only reason Bill hadn’t taken the matter into his own hands was thanks to Sophia. She wouldn’t want to pull him in the mess, not more than was necessary. And she did not view Harry as a real threat—more like a moronic airhead with boundary issues. Not much, Sophia knew she could handle someone like him.
Inside, Sophia and Marié sat on the barstools around a small tall table, watching the people dance around with linked arms and switching partners after each twirl. The band was playing on a platform, one hitting a drum sitting between his open legs, violin, one holding the huge double bass and the man who was singing along the tunes played the wooden guitar while all of them kicked the rhythm against the panels of the wooden platform, making the whole floor around them vibrate. Or was it simply the people dancing joyously in the middle of the pub? Perhaps all at once. Sophia did enjoy the taste of the dark stout beer of Agathen which had gathered much appreciation through out Frahan, much like Berullian’s with their high quality whisky and Mifarnian’s with their red wine. The taste and color of the beer came from a long, carefully thought out process of roasting and brewing, kept in a barrel for at least twelve whole months if not more until finally rewarded with the rich and smooth, somewhat nutty and creamy flavors on the tongue.
Although other women were asked to dance, swept from the chairs on the sides, Sophia and Marié felt relaxed knowing no one would ask the hand of a married woman with a child and the woodcutter’s granddaughter, thus the two could keep relishing in their own company, rest assured, although Sophia sitting with one leg over one knee, leaning a gentle hand against the temple of the head with an enchanting smile caught many wandering eyes.
Sophia, despite all odds, found herself enjoying the evening, the music, the joyful warmth, watching the people dance and the smoky wooden panels of the walls and decorative lights. The charming old bartender with the sleeves of his white button-up shirt pulled up and the leather vest over, flirting with the giggling women while pouring the rich dark gold in huge shiny pints, the famous Madam Heredina entertaining her guests while gently flailing the black fan with crimson feathers, spreading the sweet scent of her strong perfume along with the cigarette permanent on her expensive silky coat and elegant dress. With all that and more happening around her, Sophia could not see Harry anywhere either. Not that she specifically tried to find him from the crowd, but because he would've bothered her already should he be there in the first place.
The song came to an end, and the new one began while everyone still clapped, rushing back to their partners and begin yet again. Sophia admired the laughing faces and blushing cheeks, when the bliss was robbed by the front door being swung open, followed by non other than Harry and his older brother, Jonash. Not that anyone else cared, or noticed to say the least, but Sophia did much to her distaste. Harry’s face beamed with unhidden excitement once finding Sophia as if he was capable of only detecting her from a vast crowd. A talent in itself.
’’Wishful thinking.’’ Sophia took another sip of her half enjoyed pint, hiding herself behind the huge thick glass by the equally as large handle, a pint which she was forced to hold up with both hands for the weight of it. But of course, such simple tricks would not do much help, for Harry already took determined steps towards their table nearly pushing people aside if they accidentally got too close.
’’Miss Sophia, a pleasant surprise.’’ Harry's smirk got on Sophia's nerves even before it fully formed on the wide lips. Sophia fought the urge to taunt him with the name button boy as many still did, but found it awfully childish by the age of thirteen and going forward. Harry and Jonash's family made and sold buttons of all kinds, made a fortune with the business as well as distributing them to all the town’s and villages of Agathen, which was one of the reasons why he had it high up in his hat—the ego. One could argue that a woodcutter made more in a wood-central Agathen, but Dilamor's were not one’s to brag with their holdings, thus no one really knew their true value,
’’Rare to see you here.’’ He continued, leaning against the table with an elbow a little too close, his whole body tilted. Harry did his best to always appear smooth, and to some he would succeed. He had his own handsome features and ladies did flicker their feathers around him in hopes of catching his attention enough to lead into marriage, but for some reason the man had decided to waste his time on Sophia who would not reciprocate, like a mountain which could not be moved. Sophia might've thought of him as a fool even, for his actions never came across as genuine at the end of the day.
’’Miss Dorothy has on a lovely blue dress today, I bet she’d love to make it twirl.’’ Sophia kept her gaze on the pint, but knew Miss Dorothy Ockerland stood opposite from them and shot daggers towards this very moment. Sophia could almost feel the stabs. If Dorothy only knew how much Sophia tried to get Harry to notice her—tried to shoo him in her general direction. They’d be best friends by now. But the stubborn man would either be a fool or act as if he did not notice. Poor Dorothy had been hopelessly in love with Harry since they were fifteen.
’’You have a lovely dress on today, Miss Sophia. Would you not like to make it twirl instead?’’ Harry nodded towards the center of the pub where people continued having a blast. Sophia looked at them, performing a well known dance where they would stop in a certain beat with a loud clap in unison and a stomp of a feet, then continue dancing and twirling with their partners clockwise. It did look fun, but not with him. The way Harry raised an eyebrow and winked at Sophia made her skin crawl. Marié covered her mouth behind a hand to hide the cringing annoyance and Jonash decided to walk away without a word, knowing his brother’s defeat was evident, instead joining the company of others with most of them ladies of course.
’’No, I would not.’’ Sophia answered in a stoic manner, ’’Now, if you’d excuse us.’’ She had enough and got up to leave while Marié followed, but Harry would not take a simple no as an answer—when did he ever—and grabbed Sophia from the wrist, forcing her to turn and face him.
’’Let go.’’ Sophia would not entertain him with as much as a glimpse towards his direction. She gave him a moment to let go on his own, wanting to avoid the stares and unnecessary altercations in a crowded place, her eyes narrow and demanding.
’’Where you going? Stay, I only just arrived after all.’’ Harry seemed drunk. He must’ve started the night early somewhere else, smelled of something stronger than Agathen’s rich dark beer.
As Sophia tried to reclaim her own arm, Harry tightened his grip with a crooked, unsettling grin. Sophia could feel the eyes beginning to gather upon them. They had began to garner unwanted attention by those bored enough to look around amongst the otherwise energizing atmosphere. The pub felt uncomfortably silent around Sophia despite its booming and vibrant revel. Just when Marié was about to step between them, force his hand off as the last resort, a looming presence appeared behind Sophia. An earthy scent she knew all too well without looking despite the pub having its own rather strong aroma. She knew it from the way Harry—the button boy—Ohara’s skin turned pale, how he let her hand slip away slowly.
’’Mister Dilamor, what a lovely evening.’’ Harry extended the twitching hand for a handshake, now gathering sweat, despite Bill only glancing at it with a smug sneer before returning the glare back on his eyes, eyebrows drawing together. Not asking any questions. Not needing any answers. What he saw upon arriving was plenty enough. Sophia might’ve wanted to avoid making a scene, doing an unnecessary service to Harry while at it, but Bill would not be as benevolent. And as if waiting for the perfect moment to arrive, he did not hold back a single word from that mouth of his. Harry did not notice, but everyone around him gave these sympathetic looks towards him before Bill even began—praying for his quick recovery.
Sophia couldn’t remember the look on Harry’s face at the time when Bill stated his disapproval, how he’d never reach the desired destination of marriage with his granddaughter and thus giving Harry the ultimate rejection any groom-candidate could ever receive, in front of everyone to witness on top of all. An embarrassing rejection he would not be able to recover from. Sophia knew that it was bound to happen, but usually such matters would be handled in a private setting. They could now have become the talk of the town as one would say. Not that she cared, nor Bill. With Harry’s ego fundamentally wounded, it would be impossible to say what his next move would be, but as of right now, Harry was left standing in the pub to collect the stares while all three made their way back home. Marié shivered as she clutched her hands inside the pockets of the long black coat with stylish double-breasted buttons, while Bill walked as if his body was the most efficient heating system in itself. Unbothered and comfortable. Just like Sophia who had her arms warm and comfortable underneath the cream colored wool poncho.
’’Well, it was about time.’’ Marié searched for Bill’s eyes, ’’He brought it upon himself.’’
Bill grunted, agreeing. The snow beneath squeaked and gritted with each step. Marié and Bill walked a couple of steps ahead from Sophia who couldn’t help but adore the night sky. The crescent diamond now brighter than before. The stars which made the snow on the ground gleam so endearingly. Sophia took in a deep breath with her chin high up, when suddenly, it seemed as if the adorable little starts began to fall from the sky and land on her nose, cheeks and eyelids— cold until they dissolved away leaving the spot tingly, ’’More snow? At this time of the year.’’ Sophia reached her hand with the palm facing up towards the sky, gathering as much as she could.
’’You’re right. It shouldn’t be snowing.’’ Marié quivered from the cold tiny kisses gifted by the snowflakes. A prolonged winter meant bad luck for the year ahead in the ancient Agathen of warmth. To those who believed such superstitious hogwash, that is.
’’No. Tomorrow it’ll all be gone.’’ Bill said as if knowing something others couldn’t. In fact, Bill had the greatest intuition when it came to nature and weather. Even Marié couldn’t stop gushing about it, already setting up a bet where the loser would have to go buy hangover soup the next morning. Sophia wouldn’t bother warning her for the millionth time— she had tried before, and Marié still kept losing each and every bet.
Bill could look at the sky and determine the weather and sometimes even when. He once explained to Sophia how it was rather easy, learning to estimate when the weather would change by assessing the wind and movement and shapes of the clouds. Sophia could not tell no matter how long she stared at the sky and its delicate art and other times powerful wrath, but she admired Bill for his talent. Among many things. Sophia would often joke around how peculiarly useful it was to know whether she needed to bring an umbrella even though the sky was nearly cloud-free. The weather took an unexpected turn far too many times to count, and each time Bill had been correct.
’’By the way, grandpa Bill.’’ Sophia asked with a gentle tone almost a whisper in the night, ’’Why did you come by Madam Heredina’s Pub? You only just went yesterday.’’
’’Had a bad feeling.’’ Bill answered, resisting the need to counterattack the usual nagging.
’’Fine." Sophia giggled, ’’I must’ve come to terms with the fact that you always seem to simply know. Are you sure you’re not hiding a fortuneteller’s trinket somewhere?’’ She joked as they came by the Monree-Klonfar’s wooden gate and wished the goodnights’ before separating with Marié. Bill did not believe in fortuneteller’s odds and ends any more than those tales of the orcs living under their forest rocks, told to children as a harmless little scary story.
And just like Bill had said beneath the last snowfall of the year—the spring, symbol of new beginnings had arrived. Meaning different things to everyone. Promises that needed to be kept, ambitions and big new leaps into the scary unknown. For Sophia, it meant another exciting three seasons ahead studying the forest among working alongside Bill.
Just like the years prior,
and just like she desired it to stay.
─?~???~?─
