Cunning Fish of the Forest - Chapter 5

Had it not been for the apple I had sneakily saved, I might have been found as a starved corpse come morning.

The dinner table, expected to buzz with talks of my betrothal, turned into a court of criticism the moment I admitted my ignorance of Leigro. It started with reprimands for learning nothing during the lengthy lessons and ended with a lecture about the three tutors I had managed to exhaust.

Having missed the crucial information, I was sent away from the dinner table, even surrendering my uneaten bread.

The crisp, fresh bite into the apple’s blushing cheek blended into the night breeze.

The bedroom maids, thinking I was disheartened by the scolding, prepared my bed with swift movements. This expedited their work, making Aronis’s bedroom their final destination for the evening, where they would invest their time combing Aronis’s curly hair.

Seizing the moment of lax surveillance, I escaped my room and climbed to the top of the tower where the golden bell was located. It was a place I can go to by getting the stone staircase at the end of the corridor and passing through the arched wooden door.

Only a sorcerer, appointed by the household’s elders, was entitled to ring this golden bell, signaling events like marriages, deaths within the family, or as a call to evacuate in emergencies.

“Fiance.”

The tangy juice of the apple woke my senses. My betrothal was news to me, but it seemed everyone from the lowest maid to Tephi, the butcher in the castle, was aware.

The fiance, however, remained a vague figure hidden behind the distant two months. There was a limit to my imagination about men, where I only knew my brothers. I could only picture a noble boy with Arlox’s sturdy build, Ahmet’s mischievousness, and a tendency to dodge lessons with feigned illnesses.

From the moment the word ‘marriage’ was mentioned, my mind was in turmoil towards rejection. I was struggling to accept the reality that a boy, who was hardly grown, could bind me.

I wondered if I should treat my fiance like my easy-going brothers. Engaging in fights until he listens to me. It was a relief, at least, that my fiance was the same age as me. In my imagination, he was skinnier than Ahmet and a crybaby like a weaned foal. It somewhat reflected my hopes.

An indifferent boy who will change my name and life as if it were his right. I hoped he’d be a weakling, prone to sickness with every season change, and sensitive enough to cry at the slightest breeze.

Leaning against the golden bell, I lay down and looked up at the night sky. It was filled with countless stars, making me secretly envious. It seemed as if the night sky knew the ends of the world that I would only see in death.

“Betrothed…”

This was perhaps the biggest and most dreadful event in my life so far. And it felt unfair that this major event, the arrival of my fiance in two months, happened without my will or opinion.

Was it wrong to want things in my life, big or small, to happen because of me?

“Miss?”

I was examining the apple core in the moonlight when a voice, like a snake without legs, startled me nearly to a fall. A sorcerer in a simple robe emerged under the moonlight.

“Miss Araneth?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

The sorcerer, setting down a lantern with a clink, squinted one eye.

“Not in your bedroom at this hour?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Because of your fiance?”

The sorcerer and I were on good terms. Having admired the idea of sorcery, I used to pester this elder quite a bit. It was the sorcerer who overlooked my retreats to the top of the tower, when scolded by my mother. Although in this era, sorcerers are limited to medicine and fortune-telling, I still cherished the significance of their title.

“So, you’re a girl after all. The thought of your fiance keeps you awake at night.”

“It’s not excitement that’s keeping me up.”

“Whatever the reason, it’s the idea of a fiance that does it.”

The fact that my coming of age is still far off only adds to my frustration. My words, with no room for contradiction, lack power. I also fall short in clearly organizing the overflowing thoughts in my head. Unless I act childishly by throwing the apple core onto the roof.

I made a point of ignoring him, merely watching the apple core slide off the tower roof. The sorcerer, admitting defeat with a wave of his hand, chuckled.

“This old man didn’t intend to upset you.”

“It’s not because of you, sorcerer. I’m always upset.”

“Always?”

“Yes, always.”

My mother often says a few times a year, asking why I ignore the teachings of our great family, reject my given role, and only covet what my brothers have.

Every time I hear such remarks, my spite only grows. Whether playing with my sister Aronis or climbing over fences, the only moments of pure joy in my life seem to come from rebellion.

Like a puffed-up toad, there seems to be no way to quell my heartache.