Chapter 1 – Part One

Well, what can I say? Surprises are not always pleasant. In fact, they can alter your actions completely. Usually, to avoid doing something thrust upon you, it's natural to do anything to avoid doing that something.

You must be confused. Don't worry - I could not make head or tail of what I thought just now. If you bear with me, you'll get the gist.

Basically, I should have known it would happen.

It had happened to all the girls I knew around my age and older. It had caused me to wonder whether it was going to happen to me, and when.

But that day, what with all the work I had to do– on my own, mind you, as Magda and Gwen decided to sneak outside to soak up some sunlight – those kinds of thoughts had been driven completely out of my mind.

Before you ask if I was thinking about a 'special someone' (as a friend of mine once aptly worded it), I'm going to say that yes, I was. Despite the fact I hadn't seen him in two years, it was unlikely I'd ever get to see him again and being near but yet so far from knowing if he truly felt the same way about me.

I found it hard to admit, but the memory of him kept me alive since he'd left.

That was how bad my life was. I felt alone, unable to confide in my father about anything, and missed the people who had deserted me bitterly. I slept to die. I was awake in the hope of there somehow being hope in our bleak world. But there was none. The only apparent hope seemed to be inactive in my life, although I had heard rumours claiming otherwise.

The day it happened was a normal, mundane, dreary day. Just like any other day. Nothing remotely interesting had happened.

I found the others' gossip shallow. I didn't care whether Sir Guy was still brooding over how his fiancée deserted him for an outlaw. Good on her! If I was Lady Marian, I would have done just that.

I didn't voice my opinion though. Guy had a nasty temper. If I had done, I would probably have woken up the next day without my right hand – worse off than I was then: no work; disinherited from my father (not that I would inherit anything anyway); subject to stares or squirms from fully-bodied people for the rest of my life.

Guy was like a boy, sulking about being defeated by a playmate, not a grown man, accepting the fact that some things in life you just cannot have.

When I had to give him his supper, I hurried in, plonked the dish down on the table and hastily departed – all of this achieved without looking at him.

I felt quite proud of myself, actually. He chided me not, nor shouted at me for inadequacies. All that greeted me was silence, and that refreshed me like cool pleasant water on a hot summer's day.

Soon, I would be able to go home. Not that home was a haven (on the contrary). But after being at work for over twelve hours, I longed to sleep somewhere without being scrutinized.

My father never scrutinized openly. He was dismissive, but hardly ever knew what exactly I thought, how I felt or that the extent of his control was now limited.

He never praised me or gave me advice or shared that he cared. I knew I was only someone to look after him when he could no longer continue his trade as a merchant.

What a pleasant thought. How useful I must have been to him.

After Rose, the Manor's cook, let me go, after giving me a hug and telling me to be a good girl, I walked back to our hut in the gathering dark. Men were still going about their everyday business; women were still working; children who should have been sound asleep were alongside their parents. And no one smiled.

Not even a glimmer of hope in their faces. I then realised I wasn't smiling either. I thought of the smile that kept me going each day, and a wave of sadness and longing swept over me all at once.

I love you, I love you, I said silently, thinking of his face, which was starting to fade now, along with my memory of him.

I passed his house, still vacant. The whole village revered it, and no one, not even the hungriest of us, had taken anything. I had gone in, and there was nothing of any use anyway. The valuables I remembered had been sold for food, all that food had been eaten, and a few days after their escape, only their carpentry tools were missing.

As I saw it, I sighed and saw my breath escape from my mouth like smoke. After two years, I still missed him like it was only yesterday. Every day I asked myself the same questions. Would I see him again? Who did he want to be betrothed to? Who did Dan want him to be betrothed to? Was it pointless still thinking like this?

'Amy!'

A harsh but familiar voice interrupted my thoughts and I realised I had my mouth open, gazing stupidly into the middle distance. Idiot.

'Amy!'

I looked vaguely around for the noise and my father was standing on our doorstep, his face like thunder.

And I actually mean that. He wasn't smiling either. He jerked his hand, indicating that I should hurry. I obeyed meekly and followed him, with a sinking heart, into his house.