Inside the cozy knitting room, Alexandra and her mother sat quietly, each immersed in the rhythm of their craft. Their fingers deftly worked through colorful skeins of wool, fashioning patterns of their own unique style. The room was warm and peaceful, with the soft clicking of knitting needles filling the space.
"Argh! This won't do! This won't do at all!" Alexandra suddenly exclaimed, her voice breaking the calm. Her mother, Brione, paused to glance at her with a knowing look.
Brione rolled her eyes, recognizing the source of her daughter's distress. "What do you mean, Alexandra? This is a wonderful opportunity—getting married to the crown prince of Caestria is something most girls would dream of. You really should stop being so pessimistic," she replied, her tone carrying gentle reproach as she returned to her knitting.
"But it's not my dream!" Alexandra protested, a dramatic pout forming on her lips. "I don't want to marry a crown prince, and I'm too young for such things!" she added, letting out a playful, exaggerated cry as if the mere thought were unbearable.
Alexandra's appearance, a reflection of her mother's beauty, made her protests all the more endearing. Her waist-length ginger hair, tied in a simple yet elegant ponytail, cascaded down her back like molten copper. Her skin, radiant and flawless, glowed with an ethereal light, untouched by time or sorrow. Her green eyes, as bright as the fresh leaves of spring, looked down at the brown wool in her hands with a sigh. She was more than just beautiful—she was a vision, a muse whose beauty seemed plucked from the tales of old, where goddesses and nymphs roamed the earth.
Brione scoffed softly. "Stop with the 'too young' nonsense. You're nineteen, Alexandra! More than ready for marriage. There are girls younger than you already running their households. This is an opportunity, my dear. Don't you care about your father and me?" Brione set down her knitting, cupping her daughter's face in her hands, her eyes filled with a mother's love.
"Of course, I care about you and Papa! I love you both so much—I'd do anything for you!" Alexandra exclaimed, her voice softening as she sought to reassure her mother, her heart aching at the thought of disappointing her.
"Then do this for us," Brione whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead gently. "Don't see it as a burden, darling." She gave her a warm smile before turning back to her knitting.
The crown prince of Caestria, heir to the throne, was set to choose his bride from among the four daughters of the kingdom's dukes. The grand event was to take place as a carnival upon his return from war—a war that had held him away for over a year.
The Kingdom of Caestria governed four great lands, each ruled by a Duke: Rarr of the North, Krezia of the South, Emberville of the West, and Ylzia of the East. In the heart of these lands lay the Midlands, where the kingdom's capital was built. The entire realm pulsed with life, and soon, it would stir with the excitement of the prince's return.
"Is Papa not back yet?" Alexandra asked, her eyes darting to the ornate wall clock that ticked softly in the room, noting that it was nearing the hour of seven.
Brione glanced at the clock as well. "No, but that's not surprising," she replied, a small smile forming on her lips. "You know how much the king depends on him. He's his favorite duke." There was a youthful gleam in Brione's eyes, a secret admiration that only deepened her smile.
Alexandra groaned playfully. "Oh, Mom! Could you stop being so... lover-girly? It's so cringey," she teased, shaking her head with a chuckle.
Brione joined in her daughter's laughter, her joy bubbling up as easily as a spring in a meadow. "Well, I am in love, am I not?" she said, her laughter filling the room with warmth.
Alexandra watched her mother, her heart stirred by the depth of affection her parents shared. It was the kind of love that poets wrote about, the kind that filled grand ballads and timeless stories. It was the kind of love she dreamed of—something born from fate, from the magic of chance encounters. But doubt clouded her thoughts. The crown prince would have his choice of brides, and Kiara, the daughter of Duke McCartney, was a beauty unlike any other. Intelligent and admired by all, Kiara was everything Alexandra felt she wasn't.
"Cleo and Cloe are coming over tomorrow," Alexandra said, breaking the silence. "I'll take them to Tishir Market to gather materials for the carnival."
"That sounds wonderful, my love. I would've liked to come with you, but I'll be tied up tomorrow." Brione smiled apologetically.
"No worries, Mama. It's been ages since I had a proper day out with Cleo and Cloe. It'll be a fun 'best friends' day," Alexandra laughed softly.
Brione nodded in approval. "That sounds perfect. Oh, by the way, have you written to your brother lately?"
Alexandra's face softened at the mention of her brother, Ryan, who was away in the western lands. "Not yet. But I'm knitting him something for winter," she said, holding up the partially finished sweater, her fingers running over the threads of brown wool.
Brione admired her handiwork, her eyes soft with pride. "That's sweet of you, my dear. Look what I made for you." She held up her own finished piece—an elegant green woolen garment. "You'll need this when winter comes. The cold can be harsh, and you need to stay warm."
Alexandra's heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. "Oh, Mama! It's perfect!" she exclaimed, taking the sweater from her mother and admiring the deep green color—her favorite, for it reminded her of her emerald eyes.
"And what's this?" Brione asked, gesturing to the piece in Alexandra's hands.
"This? It's for Ryan. I'm knitting him a sweater for the cold. I know he'll need it."
Brione smiled warmly. "That's lovely, dear."
Just as she rose to leave, there was a gentle knock on the door. A maid entered, bowing slightly. "Duke Carmarthen has arrived home," she announced before quietly retreating.
Alexandra and Brione exchanged a glance, warmth spreading through the room at the thought of his return.