I wasn't sure what it was about her that attracted me. Was it the beige cloak, the hood pulled over her head, which was so different from the other attire in the room that drew my eye? Was it the light green hair, a unique, but pretty, shade I had never seen before? Or was it the way she was standing: shoulders hunched, clutching a brown doll with her hair shielding her face, a posture that screamed fragile?

I wasn't sure what it was, but there was an odd, almost enchanting beauty about her. It made all of the other young women in the village, all of them quite beautiful, seem weak in comparison.

Gordon, the priest, whom I had been sent to deliver something to, glanced down at me with a half-frown.

"Kyle, I would like you to meet my two daughters. This is my first-born, Dorothy." He paused to gesture to the green-haired girl; I stared for probably a moment too long, as Gordon cleared his throat. I tore my eyes away from Dorothy, trying not to dwell on the fact that she hadn't even looked up when her father had called her name.

"And this is my second-born, Cammy." The other girl, who was taller than Dorothy, grinned, and waved rather cheekily, her pink pigtails swinging jauntily. Funny. As childish as Cammy seemed, I still would have perceived her as the older sister. For one thing, she was taller, and Dorothy seemed so tiny and delicate…

"Now, what did you come for, Kyle?" Gordon asked, interrupting my analysis. (I also might have been staring at Dorothy again.)

"Right. Well…" I looked back at Gordon hastily, quickly reaching into my rucksack, "Mayor Bryon asked me to give these to you." I pulled out a brown paper envelope, taped shut, and offered it carefully to Gordon.

He took it with a smile, ripping it open without the least regard, and dumped out a stack of sheets into his hand. He scanned them quickly, and grinned. "Ah. I've been waiting for these for a while. There are a lot of young women and men coming of age, so I thought it would be a good idea to order some blank marriage certificates. You know, my Cammy is getting old enough, too."

I felt my cheeks go a little warm as Cammy giggled. "It's a good thing you think ahead." My eyes flickered over to Dorothy momentarily. If Cammy was old enough for marriage, Dorothy certainly would be, too. Why didn't Gordon mention her name?

"Yes, it is," Gordon agreed warmly, making me quickly turn my eyes back to him, "It's a good thing you moved here, Kyle. It's only your third day in the village, and, already the mayor is asking you to deliver important documents. There aren't many people like you, trust-worthy and hard-working, in the world right now."

I half-smiled, embarrassed. "Everyone in this village is very kind and helpful. I just hope working on Mana and Douglas' farm will help bring my memory back."

As I finished my sentence, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that Dorothy's head came up a fraction, her head tilting to the side in an almost inquisitive way.

"Yes, it is a shame that you lost your memory. You must have taken a pretty good crack to the head, or something. Usually head trauma causes amnesia. You seem to be a natural farmer, though. This village has never had fresher vegetables. Cammy really enjoys them." Gordon's friendly tone seemed a little forced.

My smile was forced, too. My earlier positive opinion on Gordon was slowly dwindling. Dorothy still had said nothing, and Gordon was acting like she wasn't even there. Cammy was absolutely basking in her father's attention. "Thank-you. Well, speaking of farming, I'd better get back to work. After this delivery, I was planning on getting some pink turnip seeds."

"Oh, goody! I love pink turnips!" Cammy gushed, batting her eyelashes at me. I swallowed a little nervously.

Gordon chuckled. "Well, thank-you for the papers, Kyle. See you around."

I dipped my head courteously. "Yes. Nice meeting you, Cammy and Dorothy. Have a nice day."

"Oh, you, too! I'll see you around!" Cammy answered, with too much eagerness.

Dorothy stayed silent, but her head came up a bit more. As I turned my back, and headed down the aisle towards the door, I thought I heard a faint, almost inaudible:

"G-Goodbye…Kyle…"

~*~

The click of the door swinging shut was the only sound in the silence that followed Kyle's departure. I peered through my bangs at my father, and then at my sister.

"Oh, he's cute!" Cammy exclaimed, clapping her hands on either side of her face in a cliché position. Her blue eyes were sparkling with excitement. It was typical of my younger sister. As much as I loved Cammy, I resented the way she played with men like that. Kyle seemed like a nice person, and she was going to hurt him if he fell for my sister's charm.

"Cammy, I don't know about him," My father cautioned, "Did you see the way he was staring at you? I think you should stay away from him."

Cammy giggled. "Daddy, don't be silly! He wasn't staring at me! He was staring at Dorothy!"

I felt my whole face, ears included, go beet red. Kyle…Kyle was staring at me? Surely Cammy was mistaken! Every man that saw the two of us was smitten by Cammy, and avoided me.

My father snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Cammy! He wouldn't even care to look at Dorothy! She is tiny, and not as pretty as you! Not to mention that she never talks!"

I felt my whole back stiffen. There he was, doing it again. Talking about me as if I wasn't standing right there. Did my father forget I was there, or did he really not care?

"Daddy! Don't talk about Dorothy that way!" Cammy cried, and I thanked the Gods and Goddesses above that I had my younger sister to stand up for me. But I had heard enough. Without another word, I turned my back, and fled to the refuge of my room, shutting and locking the door behind me.

Once I was in the safety of my room, I climbed onto my bed, fighting the tears that made my throat ache. As grateful as I was for Cammy's support, I knew my father was right. I wasn't pretty at all. I was shy, and I stuttered when I talked. Kyle would never look twice at someone like me, especially not with my beautiful, friendly younger sister standing next to me.

For some reason, that made the tears I was forcing back spill over.