Chapter 5: chapter 5

The early morning air was crisp, and the sun struggled to break through the remnants of last night’s heavy snowfall. Amelia was outside, her hands working diligently as she tried to dry the wet firewood. Her fingers were stiff from the cold, but she continued, knowing the warmth of a fire would be worth the effort. The silence of the morning was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps crunching against the snow.“Amelia!” a voice called out. She looked up to see her younger brother, Adam, running toward her, his cheeks flushed and his breath visible in the icy air.“What’s wrong? Why are you running?” Amelia asked, setting down the piece of wood in her hand. Adam stopped in front of her, doubled over and gasping for air.“Amelia,” he said between breaths, “we’ve been invited to the king’s ball! Papa was telling Mama about it—I heard them talking!”Amelia’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. She wasn’t surprised; Lucy, her friend, had already mentioned the possibility of an invitation. She raised an eyebrow. “Really, Adam? Are you that excited about it?”Adam’s eyes widened as he nodded vigorously. “Of course, I am! I’ll get to see the castle—the king himself! And the horses, Amelia, imagine the horses! And there will be so much delicious food…” His voice trailed off as he noticed her indifferent expression. “Why aren’t you excited? Don’t you want to go?”“Hmmm… I’ll think about it,” Amelia replied, brushing off his enthusiasm.Adam frowned, crossing his arms. “Mama was telling Papa that it’s important for your marriage. That’s why we should go.”The light teasing mood vanished in an instant. The smile slipped from Amelia’s face as she stared at her brother. “Really? Are you sure Mama said that?”Adam scowled, kicking at the snow with his boot. “Yes, I’m sure! Mama wants to marry you off, Amelia.”She sighed, looking away. “I’m not even eighteen yet, and they’re already thinking about marriage,” she muttered under her breath. But she didn’t voice her frustration further, not wanting to upset Adam. With a gentle exhale, she brushed the dirt from her hands onto her gown and leapt down from the pile of firewood.The hem of her dress fluttered as she moved, catching the afternoon light. She crossed the clearing and wrapped her arms around Adam’s neck from behind, catching him by surprise.“Do you want a tasty treat?” she whispered playfully into his ear.Adam turned with wide, eager eyes and bounced on his feet, his face lighting up with a grin. “Yes! Yes! What is it?”Amelia giggled, her voice soft but full of mischief. “Frostberries,” she said. “I saw some ripening near the stream yesterday. They’re deep red now, sweet and juicy. Lucy and I ate so many, our lips turned red."Adam’s excitement burst through him like a spark catching dry leaves. “Let’s go! Let’s go now!” he shouted, already hopping in place before breaking into a sprint across the open field.“Adam, wait for me!” Amelia called, laughing as she gathered her skirt and chased after him. The wind tugged at her hair, and for a moment, the heaviness of her worries lifted. She was no longer the girl trapped between expectations and duty.They raced past tall ferns and under arching branches until the sound of the stream reached their ears—a soft, murmuring promise of sweet berries and stolen moments. Amelia slowed as they reached the bank, her breath coming in bursts, cheeks flushed from the run.“There,” she pointed, spotting the low bushes heavy with frostberries. “See? I told you.”Adam darted to them, already picking the plumpest ones and popping them into his mouth. “Mmm! They really are sweet,” he said, his voice muffled with berries. “You were right!”Amelia knelt beside him, plucking one between her fingers and holding it to the sunlight before tasting it herself. The berry burst with flavor, cold and tangy, as if it had captured the winter in its skin.“I wish everything could stay like this,” she whispered, more to the trees and the sky than to Adam. “Just simple… and quiet.”“I know,” Adam grinned, then stood up and pointed dramatically toward a deeper part of the forest. “To the berry kingdom! Let’s find more!”And just like that, the moment shifted again—light, playful, and filled with the kind of magic only children and forests can conjure. Amelia followed him, her laughter echoing through the trees, as if the forest itself joined in their little rebellion against the world.That evening, the family gathered around the dinner table, the faint warmth of the fire doing little to ease the tension building in Amelia’s chest. She sat silently, pushing her food around on her plate as the conversation began.Her mother broke the quiet with a cheerful tone. “We’re going to the castle this Sunday,” she announced, her eyes alight with excitement. “The king has invited us. Amelia, we’ll need to go to the market tomorrow to buy some new clothes. You’ll need to look your best.”Amelia hesitated, her fork frozen mid-air. “I don’t want to go,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire. “You and Papa should go. Take Adam with you.”The cheerfulness on her mother’s face quickly turned to anger. “And why is that so?” she demanded, her tone sharp.Amelia swallowed hard, keeping her gaze fixed on her plate. “I just don’t want to go,” she repeated firmly.Her mother’s eyes narrowed, her voice laced with impatience. “No, Amelia. Your father and I have decided. We are going, and so are you. This is an important gathering of every noble family. If someone takes an interest in you and asks for your hand in marriage, it will be good for you—and for us.”The words struck Amelia like a blow, and tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to protest, to tell her mother how unfair it was, but she knew it was pointless. Her voice would only be silenced again. Instead, she bit her lip and nodded, staring down at her plate. A heavy silence fell over the table, broken only by the clink of cutlery and the occasional crackle of the fire.Her heart felt heavy, her appetite gone. She forced herself to eat, each bite tasting bitter, not from the food, but from the weight of her mother’s words.