The sun glistened, filtering through the branches and leaves that reached up to touch the precious gold sphere. The trees were silent. Only the quiet chirp of a bird or the sound of metal hitting wood touched my ears.
I closed my eyes and took it all in.
I could map out this area of the forest with my eyes closed. Nearly everyday, while walking from my parent's house to the market, I would stop here and watch the scenery. I loved it in every season.
In summer everything was bright, as it is now, with wild flowers growing next to tee trunks and amongst the grass. In autumn, it was slightly barer, with darker tones colouring the leaves. Winter was pure. Everything was white, and glistened. Barely anyone ventured into the woods during winter so the snow lay untouched as it covered the grass and tree tops. But spring was the best. When new life begun. Flowers sprouted from the ground and the leaves on the trees started to grow.
I turned my head to watch a small bird hop from branch to branch before settling high in a tree, resting in its nest among its small eggs. A smile grew on my face as I watched the bird thinking of my own mother who protected me as I grew up, and how my father took over as I grew into a woman, and now, seventeen, he still hadn't let me go. Hadn't given me to a husband.
Twirling a piece of my dark brown skirt in my fingers, I closed my eyes and let my head tilt back as the summer breeze softly kissed my face.
I was wearing a casual everyday outfit consisting of a chemise which had a small tie at the front which was currently unravelling itself causing the neckline to slip slightly, exposing more of the top of my breasts. The sleeves were rolled up to my elbows and the skirt fell to my ankles. Over it I wore a dark brown dress, with straps over my shoulders. And over that a corset went around my stomach. It was currently pulled tightly, laced up at the front.
"Scarlet!" I jumped at the shout and shot around at the sound of my name. I turned to see my father stood angrily amongst the stalls of the market. I gasped and scooped up the basket at my feet, running over to him.
My father stood tall against the side of a stall selling jewellery, hands on his hips and his greying hair neatly brushed over his small bald patch. He wore a plain dark green long sleeved tunic and dark brown pants.
"What were you doing staring at the sky like an idiot when I sent you to get food?" he demanded angrily. His face reddened slightly as he bent his body slightly so he was bent over me in an intimidating manner.
"Sorry father." I muttered as I slipped by his side. My head was tilted down and my gaze ran across the dirty floor beneath my brown pumps and dirty skirt.
My father calmed down quickly before taking one of my dark curls in his hand and twirling it between his fingers. He sighed once before moving slightly and letting the strand fall back against my chest.
Looking past my father, to where his hand gestured, I saw the array jewels and gems laid out on the table before us. They sparkled under the sunlight spreading their colour around us.
The burly man looked up from adjusting a necklace and looked at us, before glancing at the two men beside him, his sons, as if it was a silent warning not to take anything, or else.
"Sorry Sir, but I think these items are a little out of a mere farmer's price range. Your wages couldn't afford them, not if you wanted to eat." The man said, a little laugh escaping him at the end as he glanced at his sons who held smirks on their faced. The man was dressed in expensive clothes projecting his wealth and status. Before he could tell us to leave, I watched in surprise as my father threw a bag of gold onto the wooden stall.
Both the jeweller and I eyed the bag suspiciously. The man reached out to it and opened it slowly, his eyes widened at the vast amount of gold inside it. My father dragged the bag back to his side and took out two gold coins before strapping the bag back safely by his side.
I wondered where my father had acquired such a vast amount of money. It surely rivalled the amount that belonged to The Village Head. Yesterday we barley hand enough money to buy bread and now father was buying jewellery! Nerves rattled through me as I wondered what my father could be involved with, could have done, to acquire such money.
"I'll take that necklace please." My father asked politely, but in a tone which slightly mocked the salesman for his previous behaviour. The necklace my father picked out was elegant and beautiful. Strung on a silver chain, green and pale pink gems wrapped around the chain until the centre were the largest gem hung, around the size of my eye, and was a deep green colour, mixed with light jade, like two mists entwining.
I sighed and marvelled at the beauty of the stone, at the whole necklace.
Handing the money over to the man, my father rapidly snatched the necklace away and with a tight hold on my arm he sped away in a quick walk. I hurried to keep up, stumbling after father until I was a steady pace by his side.
"Father," my tone was quiet, as if testing the waters before taking the dive, "where did you get that money from?"
My father froze in the middle of the street and turned to look at Scarlet.
"Events and tradition have turned. A man has asked to marry you, with him providing the dowry and not ourselves. I denied yet he still gave me the money. Money which even he couldn't have acquired without...breaking the rules and the law and bending a few bridges towards the path he needed to take. You will not marry a man like that but the money is ours, and any other gifts he showers upon the family to make my decision sway the way he wants it to." Father's face was as hard as stone and devoid of emotion, not letting any feelings seep through, not even through his eyes.
He let the necklace slip into my hands.
I nodded towards my father, "I understand."
I had had many admirers before and some currently, but my father brushed them all away and I wasn't allowed to accept their courting, accept the chance of love. At seventeen, I was above the average age of marriage in my village which was around thirteen to sixteen.
Though, I did have an idea who her persistent admirer was. He had turned up multiple times to my house, drunk, begging for me to come out or for my father to let him in. It was at those times I feared him, wondering what he would do or try to do if he broke in. I noticed his wandering gaze when walking by his house or across the town square where his house resided, behind me now. I felt that very gaze now, staring at me from a shadowed corner by a meat stall. He had a small, sadistic smirk on his face. His arms were folded and his posture was relaxed.
He had something planned for me, I could tell. I just didn't want to know what.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mary, my mother, brushed my hair slowly. Looking in the mirror before me I marvelled at its rich, dark colour and how smooth and soft it was. Because of my mother's maintenance a day never passed where it was dry or oil. I was lucky to have a mother who cared but also cursed as sometimes she cared about my appearance too much and I could spent hours in a cold bath at a time, having my hair wasn't and my body scrubbed.
My mother dropped the bush on a side table for a moment and ran her fingers through my hair. I smiled and relaxed against my mother's legs behind the stool I was perched on.
"I've always done this since you were a child," my mother said before sighing, "but you are a woman now in so many ways. Only if your father could see that."
My mother smiled once, her head resting on mine for a moment, letting her hands linger on my hair before smiling into the mirror before us.
I stared at their reflection. My mother and I looked very alike, as a mother and daughter should. We both had long dark hair that fell beyond our waists, however my mother's had fading grey sewn into some threads. My eyes were a deep forest green, magical as if torn from a fairytale book, and they drew attention from everyone who lay there eyes upon them, much to my embarrassment. My mother's eyes were a fading mixture of dark green and grey but she always said she could recall a time when her eyes were as vibrant as her daughters, but that was a long, long time ago.
My mother smiled at the reflection and whispered close to my ear, "how my daughter has grown into a fine young lady."
Standing straight my mother spoke louder, her eyes catching mine in the mirror, "Your father told me some news today."
"And what would that be?" I asked, interested only slightly as I played with the hem of my skirt.
"Another lover on the horizon." my mother smiled at her way with words, obviously proud of herself.
I, however, was not.
"Peter Hallow." I informed my mother, "And did my father tell you Peter gave him a dowry that only a Lord could afford? Father bought me a necklace with it." I played with the large gem at the throat of my neck.
"I noticed." my mother smiled, "From the jeweller from out of town? No man from our village has the skills to create such beauty, well, apart from your father. He created you."
I smiled slightly before letting my hand fall, a blush spreading across my cheeks. I didn't deny the beauty I held but thought it more common than extraordinary.
"People are talking." My mother's sudden, dark tone caught my attention. I glanced up at my mother's reflection in the mirror.
"You are not yet married. They wonder why a girl at your age and beauty isn't married off yet. They wonder if something is wrong with you." Her voice was filled with worry and despite my sorrow for seeing my mother upset I replied curtly, "I do not marry because my father does not wish me to."
"And what is your opinion?" My mother asked.
"There is no one I wish to marry, not here." I replied.
"Not even Peter Hallow? He is rich, and there is no denying he had very strong feelings towards you. I am sure he would make you happy." My mother stated. Her enthusiastic tone suggested that my mother had opposing opinions to my father's on the subject of Peter's proposal.
"He could make me happy," I agreed, thinking of the positives and my mothers face lit up, "but he could not make me fall in love with him. A marriage without love is not a marriage I wish to be a part of."
My mother sighed at my words, "many marriages aren't loving at first, but just wait a while and soon feelings will bloom. Look at me and your father, I love him with all my heart, but when I first discovered our betrothal I cried for weeks before the wedding. And the night of wedding I beat him for even considering coming near me. However, your father just laughed and told me to shut up and have a drink. And I did. And we talked for hours and I felt like I finally knew my husband. I loved him. All I needed to do was talk to him. Maybe you should take that advice with Peter Hallow. Get to know him."
I nodded, just wanting my mother to drop the subject.
"Now, onto more pressing news. I finished your dress for tonight's summer festival. Are you excited? Dancing, singing, drinking," my mother sighed and I could almost hear her recalling all the festivals she had been a part of before, "since you are now of age you can enjoy the festives without looking at them from outside your window, which, young lady, I knew you did every year."
I smiled wickedly at my mother. She was right, I would stay up till the early hours of the morning watching the lights and the dances from my small bedroom window, fascinated. You had to be seventeen to attend if you were a woman or thirteen as a boy but if you were married you could attend under the chaperone of your husband.
However, despite being old enough to go alone, I wouldn't be. I was to go with my parents but there was no doubt in my mind they would wander off at some point and I would be left to fend for myself amongst the mass of horny drunk men and the dancing, singing women.
I was scared, excited and nervous all at once.
I looked out the open window on the right side of the room. The day was quickly darkening and the men and women preparing the festival, throwing armfuls of wood on a steadily growing bonfire, not lit yet, but I knew tonight it would be the grandest bonfire.
I noticed the whistling breeze that suddenly blew through her window, bringing with it a fast moving red object that landed neatly into my lap. Picking it up with slightly shaking hands, I saw that it was a rose, as red as my name, perfect and fully bloomed.
I wondered who sent the rose through the window, and how they were able to get it to land so perfectly in my lap.
Shaking slightly, with goose bumps forming on her arms, I knew something strange would happen tonight. I could feel it in my bones, a dark chill that wrapped around me like a shawl.
I took a deep swallow and looked down at the rose in my hands. It was beautiful and it was deadly. The image of it was imprinted in my mind and I knew I would never truly forget that rose till the day I died.
Because something about it warned me that my life would change, in ways I couldn't imagine.