Chapter One: Wrath and Patience

Endymion was resisting the urge to pace, leaning against the house of the girl he was waiting for. The flowers he held were wilting already in the heat. And he had saved up for two weeks to buy them.

"What a waste," he murmured to himself.

He intended to present them as a gift and open conversations about marriage, but Endymion would only embarrass himself as it stood now. Boisterous laughter spilled from the corner behind him, and Endymion recognized it, standing up straight to meet the girl he'd waited over an hour for.

Beryl stepped around and into sight…with her arm looped through another's. Although disheartened, Endymion didn't cave into his insecurities. A beauty like Beryl would have many suitors; it didn't mean she thought any less of him. What did have the hairs on the back of his neck rising was the man who held her arm.

His fine clothes and slicked back hair told Endymion he came from money. But it was more than that; this man was a Duke.

The pair stepped up to him bravely, the nobleman searching Endymion over with a smirk. His smirk grew to a grin when he spied Endymion's bouquet.

"For me?" Beryl gushed, taking the unoffered blooms out of Endymion's grip.

"Yeah, I waited here an hour to give them to you too."

Endymion sought two goals with his admission; to make Beryl feel guilt and to show his determination. But, instead, the grin that remained on the Duke's face told Endymion he'd only succeeded in making himself look more pathetic.

"Endymion, this is Lord Kunzite. Duke of Lazaburg."

Beryl read out Endymion's rival as if it were a resume. She didn't bother to do the same for him, and Endymion knew why; he was a nobody. Poor bastard son of a seamstress, he took care of his mother and elders instead of the other way around. Something he was now late getting to but couldn't make himself leave Berly alone with the Duke.

"I had hoped to speak with you, Beryl. Privately?"

Her attention was split between the two men and barely-there -as it were- on Endymion. His anger was rising to a peak at this point, but showing it would only make him lose faster.

Beryl giggled as though embarrassed while her face bared no signs of it, her skin still pale. "I'm afraid I have no time for you today." Then, with a few whispered words and push in the right direction, Lord Kunzite left them alone and entered Beryl's house. "I have promised my time to Lord Kunzite today, I'm afraid. If only you'd come to me sooner…."

"I had other obligations," he had to work a shift at the salt mine first, so he wasn't sacked.

"I see," Beryl whispered, looking towards her front door, "Lord Kunzite has no obligations other than to court me."

Finding his bravery was easier than expected, what with his rage billowing and burning any nerves Endymion had. Beryl's head whipped back to him when Endymion took a step closer, closing the distance between in an instant. A smile grew on her ruby red lips at his boldness. "Would you prefer to be an obligation or have someone willing to move the heavens to spend time with you?"

There was no doubt; it was a struggle for Endymion to find time to spend with Beryl. And he was sure that was why she sought out other suitors. However, what looked like disinterest was the opposite; Endymion wanted to marry Beryl more than anything. He was in love with her. He had never been in love before, but he was confident; it felt like this.

Beryl looked between him and the surrounding area as if to catch those spying. "Perhaps then," she pursed her lips together, and Endymion found himself leaning in closer as though she might let him kiss her, "you could return tonight? I will wait for you. Come to my window on the backside of the house and do not wake my family. We need privacy."

Beryl stepped back, leaving him with the promise of seeing her again later, and disappeared inside. He tried not to dwell on how Beryl was with the Duke while he trotted home. Even helping his family and completing his chores did not help distract his mind, though. Something all took notice when his grandfather on his mother's side whelped in pain.

"Sorry!"

Leaning over as much as the frail man could, he swatted Endymion's shoulder, "what is yer thinking, boy? 'Cause, you ain't here with us!"

"I'm sorry, Papa." Endymion relented, focusing on being gentle as he rewrapped the bandage on Papa's ankle. He had just finished cleaning the wound his Papa received when Papa decided to try and get out of bed on his own. "I have a lot on my mind as of late."

Endymion's mother was still at work, finishing up some lavish dress for a wealthy family. He used to visit her at the shop but stopped when he took a look at what she was working on last time. The sleeve of the gown she sewed would feed his family for a month. It made Endymion sick, so he didn't return.

His grandmother on his mother's side, Grand, tugged on his sleeve; the ratty shirt and slacks replaced his nice suit from earlier. It was the only one he had, and he needed it clean for the evening. "What's troubling you, dear?"

Casting his eyes over his family, he quickly caught on that they were all concerned for him. "It's just that… there's this girl…."

All of them began talking at once, this and that about marriage and commitment, when Papa held up his hands to silence them. "Who's the girl?"

Endymion hesitated. He hadn't told his family anything about who he wished to court, and he worried how they would take it. "Ms. Beryl Tungston."

They were silent, looking at Endymion heavily until his grandmother on his father's side, Gre-Gre, whispered, "isn't she the prettiest girl in town?"

"I heard she had many fine fellows after her," Endymion's grandfather, Gramps, added, but it was far from news to Endymion.

Grand huffed, "yes, and Endymion is one of them!"

Gramps held up his hands in defense, reminding Endymion he needed to check his blood pressure. "I ain't saying that he's not! Ms. Tungston would be lucky to have a smart and clever boy like Endymion for a husband!"

"Is no one going to say it?" Papa stated, and they all grew silent. "Fine, I will then. You ain't got the funds to marry. Not yet. And if yer did, it wouldn't be enough for a woman the caliber of Tungston. They're a fine family and need to keep it that way."

"So what are you saying, Papa? I should give up?" He looked at his family with wide eyes, and they all caved quickly.

"No! No one is saying that," they all said in one way or another.

Endymion hung his head, looking at his Gramps' watch while he measured the beats of his pulse. Then, with his Gramps' wrist still in his clutch, Endymion felt the reaction to his words. "I love her, so I have to try."

No one said a word more, letting Endymion face his battle with his determination on high. He was getting ready to leave when his mother finally arrived home. Catching him in his fine suit had her attention right away. "Where are you off to at this hour?"

He had told his family about his intentions but not that he was due for a late-night rendezvous. Endymion worried about how it might look and didn't want to dirty Beryl's reputation.

So he lied, "I am seeing a man about a job."

That would explain his dress but not the hour. "Now?" He shrugged and tried for nonchalance while his mother helped him into his jacket. "Thank you for working so hard for us. We all appreciate and love you dearly."

"I know," Endymion muttered, turning to look his mother in the eyes, "I hope to make you proud."

She pulled him into a fierce hug, "you already do, my love! I am so proud!"

When she released him, Endymion took a few moments to spend with his mother. She fixed herself a small portion of bread and cheese with a glass of wine that was so cheap; it was grape juice. Sitting across, Endymion watched her eat and looked at the bones peeking out from under her skin. "Mother, you don't eat enough."

"I eat enough. I keep my strength. And that is enough. Although, I nearly fainted at the order that came in today!"

He sighed, unable to escape tales of extravagance while they nearly starved. "What was it this time? A diamond-coated muffler?"

His mother chuckled, "close. A wedding gown of pale pink chiffon and the most delicate lace I'd ever seen. I was so afraid I would rip it with my hands shaking as they do."

Endymion's mother should have stopped sewing three years ago when her tremors began. But they couldn't afford it even with his position at the salt mines. They were hanging on by a thread (forgive the pun), and the last thing they could afford was his marriage. Endymion could only hope that his accolades would make up the difference soon.

He rose to make his meeting, and his mother called softly after him. "If this interview doesn't go well, there was a memo posted in the square today. Had the whole town in a tisy."

"Oh? What was it for?"

"Luna is hiring. Offering great pay and even benefits."

Endymion barked out a laugh, "Luna hasn't opened its doors to others in years. Something about thieves. Do they really expect us to walk in there with the threats they laid on us about closing up and moving away?"

"Endymion…it's a great opportunity. It would help if you considered it. They ask for honest people, and that's it. And you're the most honest man I know."

His mother had a knack for complimenting him when he least deserved it. "Alright, mother, I'll consider it. I must be off."

Endymion's mother blew him a kiss, and he ran as soon as he had his front door shut, making it to Beryl's just as the moon sat at its highest. It lit up Beryl's yard, making it easy to find rocks to use. Endymion worried the taps (although soft as possible) would wake her house. With her light extinguished, it seemed as though Beryl forgot him too. But after a few heart-wrenching moments, her lamp turned on, and Beryl opened her window.

Out of her usual up-do, Beryl's red hair fell in curls that framed her face. Endymion could make out the flush on her cheeks, and it made his heart pound with the emotion he called love. "Hello," he whispered as loud as he could, and Beryl held a finger to her lips to silence anything more.

Gesturing, Beryl told him to meet her at her back door. The soft white she wore made her look like an angel in the moonlight, her dark green eyes black in the night. He took her in for a few moments of silence when she cleared her throat. "What did you wish to speak with me about?"

Endymion shook the vision that was Beryl out of his head and focused on his mouth. "I wanted to speak about our futures." He had practiced this many times in the dull mirror outside his room, and now he would say it perfectly. "Beryl…you are exquisite. The most beautiful woman in the world, and I love you. I wish for us to be married. Will you be my wife?"

Her mouth parted in an open smile, shocked at his proposal. Endymion was sure it was the best she'd ever receive. "Oh, Endymion," she whispered in shock, "you're so kind. And handsome. But…I have already accepted a proposal. To Lord Kunzite."

"What? When?!"

"This afternoon. My mother has already ordered my dress. It's going to be a lovely pink with lace!"

Beryl was going on and on about the dress she would wear to her wedding as she married another man. Endymion was trying to breathe again. His heart had shattered and cut deep into his lungs, piercing them and making drawing breath difficult. But then there was anger, burning and cauterizing the wounds for him. "I waited, as you asked. I was patient, and this is how you reward me?"

Beryl pursed her lips in displeasure, "well, what did you expect, Endymion? I love you too, but you're the poorest man in town! I had little choice but to accept the Duke's offer!"

"You would choose money over love?"

"And status! And comfort! Endymion, there are many things a girl must consider when selecting a husband. Unfortunately, love isn't one of them, so I'm sorry, but I must decline your offer." Beryl was twisting the knife now, only to coo and come in closer to him, patting his shoulder, "if only you had a decent career? Then I could at least consider you. It's not my fault; really, it's your own. I'm the one broken-hearted as you do not love me enough to better yourself for me."

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, the final nail in the coffin. But Endymion was nothing if not determined, calling out to Beryl before she disappeared back into her sleeping house. "What if I got a job? One better than the salt mines? A job with Luna?"

Beryl scoffed but then smiled brightly back at him. "IF you had a position with Luna, I would consider your offer again."

She left it at that, and Endymion considered the challenge—and then accepted it. He would get the job at Luna and make Beryl fall at his feet.