The ride to the centre of the capital was rather quiet, so I took my attention outside. The city was lively. People were selling their wares all the way down the streets. Fruits, vegetables and meats were being sold by sellers with stained aprons and raucous voices. The ones selling the vibrant materials and Gollian pottery were just as loud. Everyone seemed to yell around here.
Then we faced some traffic due to the many coaches, carriages and rickety wagons lead by aged donkeys. So, it was quite crowded in the lower quarters of the city. There were some street kids darting in and out of the masses, the clothes barely clinging to their skeletal figures. The dilapidated buildings bordering the streets were pressed close to each other as a sorry attempt to conserve space. Then there was the smell. The stench of unwashed bodies mingled with sweat due to the harsh sun of Goll was almost unbearable. I had to cover my nose with a scented handkerchief.
Fortunately, the crowds thinned out as we got closer to the centre until I could only see carriages and coaches with some well-dressed men and women walking briskly from building to building. The women wore crisp and clean dresses with little to no embellishments. This must be the business district. Fortunately in Goll, women were allowed to own businesses in order to push the nation's economy, in order to make it the best.
The ruling monarchy two hundred years ago said that everyone should be allowed to have equal opportunities to make something of themselves, so our nation could be powerful. So that it could be the best. So even girls were taught to fight as part of their school curriculum so that if we were ever attacked again, we could all defend our nation. Anything to be the best.
"We're here," my father announced as the coach rolled to a stop. The coachman opened the door for us and helped me down. Standing on the cobblestone road, I gazed up at my father's place of business. It was a double story building made of red bricks, with only two large windows at the bottom floor and smaller windows on the top floor. As I entered, I saw my father's jewels displayed behind glass cases, glittering in the late morning sunshine.
Glass. It was a mystery to most Gollians as to how it was made but all we knew is that the Royals had something to do with it. Brushing my fingers against the cool glass, I marvelled at all the emeralds, rubies, diamonds and sapphires. The gold was kept somewhere else. And the rings, bracelets and necklaces were kept on the other side of the shop.
When I went upstairs, I entered an apartment which was surprisingly lavishly furnished. Ferandian rugs covered the floor and a heavily cushioned seats graciously sat upon them. A polished oak table stood near the kitchen. I then entered the washroom and I saw a strange silver pump above the tub. When I pushed it, wonder of all wonders, water came out! That's new. Going into my room where my bags had already been placed, I marvelled at the canopy bed which sat proudly at the back of the room, draped with velvet curtains. I now saw why my parents travelled here so often. This place was gorgeous!
Why did we ever live in Tristia?
Before I could give it anymore thought, my mother peaked her head through the door. "It's nice isn't it?" she beamed. I nodded speechlessly. "Come on, let's go and eat at the Minny's Inn down the street and go dress shopping for tonight!" I agreed and walked out with her. We passed my father who was now seated at the front desk writing a letter. Only my father could start working as soon as he arrived at a place.
"Why did you live in Tristia, when you could have lived in luxury in the Capital?" I asked as soon as we were out in the street. My mother seemed to be contemplating something before she answered, "We wanted you to live in a safe environment so you could have the best childhood; but I suppose it isn't that safe anymore," she ended with a frown. I wanted to ask what was wrong but she abruptly returned to her smiling self.
She always did change her moods quickly.
"I can't wait for you to taste Minny's honey cakes. They're absolutely divine!" she gushed and then dragged me down the street. That was a sudden change of topic but I wasn't in the mood for interrogating so I let it pass. I might as well enjoy what time left I had with her before being thrown into this marriage madness.
A few hours later we returned to the apartment with my a new packaged dress in hand. My father practically pounced on us as soon as we went through the door, telling us to hurry up or we'll be late. I took a quick bath and carefully wore the dress my mother had picked out for me. I wanted to choose a plain dress which would have made me look as boring as possible but my mother clearly had other ideas. She went all out in selecting an off the shoulders red dress with a tight bodice covered in detailed lace which then billowed out from the waist and swept the ground. I looked like I was going to a ball, but my mother said that it was perfect for the occasion, for my future husband was apparently very rich.
I bet he's a total ass.
Leaving my curly hair to rest on my shoulders, I entered the drawing room. My mother gasped while my father remained silent, studying me.
"You look beautiful Becky!" she gushed and twirled me around. "I suppose she does," my father eventually agreed. I felt so self-conscious because I was generally uncomfortable with compliments. "But you're missing something," my father observed. "What?" my mother and I asked in unison.
My father disappeared into his study for a few moments but when he returned, he was holding a red flower in his hand. As he drew closer to me, I realised that it was a striking red rose. I loved roses. And as cliche as it sounded, I have always had an affinity for the red ones. Scarlet especially, always drew me in with its intoxicating scent. My mother had noticed my morbid obsession with them when I was younger. I used to put roses everywhere. In my hair, dresses, pets and even my food. I just thought roses were the best thing to ever happen in this world. You could never have too many roses as far as I was concerned. But then one day I passed out when I was playing in her rose garden and wouldn't wake up, which lead to my mother rushing me to a healer.
I don't what the healer told my mother but my mother ended up destroying her rose garden after that. I was depressed for months until my parents decided a change of scenery would do me good and they sent me to boarding school. And I hadn't encountered roses since. At least until now.
"It's so beautiful" I whispered as my father now used a pin to clip it into my curling mass light brown hair.
"What do you think, Mother?" I asked hesitantly, fully aware of our history.
Her face looked troubled but it smoothed out as she said, "You, my darling, look beautiful, even murderously so," She ended that by giving my father a pointed look, but the man just looked smug.
My father held out his arm to me and said jovially, "Take my arm Becca, for your destiny awaits," This was the first time he sounded happy about going somewhere, so I was a bit suspicious. Especially with the fact that he was giving away his only daughter to another man. But this might be the last time I would ever see him like this.
So, I took it.