Kianna
Once a year, Kianna took all her books from the shelves in the manor, cleaned the surfaces, and then reorganized them. It was her way of connecting with her books and sometimes finding a hidden gem she had forgotten about—and reread it.
“Have you really read all of these?” Catherine asked as she put a few books back on the shelf in the living room, the way Kianna had told her to.
“Yes,” Kianna replied from across the room. She sat on the floor, several books spread around her, as she piled them by author.
“And they are all romances?”
Kianna looked up. Cat held a book up with only two fingers, as if it was disgusting to touch. A smile spread over Kianna’s lips at her best friend’s silly action. Cat had always been silly and fun to be around. If Kianna had to guess why the two of them became friends as children, she would say it was because Cat could make her laugh like no one else could.
“Yes, most of them are love stories,” Kianna admitted.
Cat wrinkled her nose and shook her hair, her mop of dark curls bouncing. “So, I assume you know all about romance. And yet, you’re not betrothed. Are you waiting for your prince?” The smile on Kianna’s lips faded. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t … sorry.”
Kianna didn’t understand why she got so upset when talking about love and marriage and the future. Love and marriage had been out of the question for a few years now.
At eighteen, she didn’t even think she was suitable for marriage anymore. Not with the calluses in her hands and the constant pain in her back. Maybe when her father had been alive, and their farm had been prosperous, when they had more helpers and she didn’t need to work, she would have had suitors. Now, she barely stepped a foot off the farm, much less in town. Even if there were potential suitors, they didn’t know of her existence.
Upset with the turn her thoughts had taken, Kianna grabbed a book and squeezed it hard as if it was her enemy. Why was she thinking about marriage anyway? She didn't need a man to make her happy. She was plenty happy with her mother and her siblings. Between the manor, the farm, and her family, she didn’t have time to think about anything else.
“It’s okay.” Kianna stood up. “Love and marriage is all in the past. All that matters now is the farm and my family.” She picked up a pile of books from the floor and took them to the empty shelf next to her. “Never mind me. Tell me about you and that young man you mentioned last week.” Kianna glanced at her friend. “John? Joseph?”
“Jonah,” Cat said, her cheeks reddening. “I went to the village with my mother yesterday.”
“Did you see him?”
Cat nodded. “I lied to my mother about having to stop at the bakery, just so we would walk past the blacksmith.”
A smile spread over Kianna’s lips. “Did you see him?”
“Yes.” The red in her cheeks darkened. “He actually stopped his work and came outside to greet us.”
“Really?” Kianna felt glad for her friend. If she had to live vicariously through Cat, she would. “And?”
“My mother was surprised, but after we left, she told me he was handsome.”
Kianna clapped her hands. “That’s great!”
Cat came from a modest family. She didn’t have many prospects for marriage, like Kianna once had. Truth be told, if Cat married the son of a blacksmith, she would raise her family's social standing.
“She wants me to invite him for supper,” Cat said, sounding nervous. “But—”
“Catherine!”
Cat’s face paled and she hid behind the sofa.
Kianna placed her hands on her waist. “Why are you hiding?”
“Because I’m not supposed to be here,” Cat whispered.
“What happened?”
“She was receiving a punishment,” Giles said, walking into the living room. The old man smiled at Kianna, showing off the wrinkles around his eyes, and lowered dipped his chin—a sign of respect for the daughter of his boss.
Kianna's grandparents had hired Giles when her father was a little boy. Later, when her grandparents died, Giles had remained to aid her father.
And when her father died and all the other workers left, Giles stayed with her family, promising to work for them until the day he died. But Giles had his own family to take care of, and having Catherine for a daughter could be quite exhausting.
Cat spied from behind the sofa. “Can’t you pretend you didn’t see me?”
“If your mother finds out you’re gone and I knew about it, she'll skin us both,” Giles said. “Come. The sun is about to set. Time to go.”
Cat looked at Kianna as if she could save her from such a cruel fate. Kianna chuckled. What was the worst that could happen? Cat’s mother would punish her again, and they wouldn’t see each other for the next two days.
They could survive that.
“Go, Cat.” Kianna waved her off. “Go before your next punishment is to spend an entire week locked in your bedroom.”
Cat’s eyes went wide.
Giles nodded, serious. “That could happen.”
“Fine!” Cat stood up, pouting. “I’m going, I’m going.”
Giles turned to Kianna and sniffed the air. “I can smell cinnamon.”
Kianna offered him a small smile. “There might be something in the oven.”
“I bet it’ll taste delicious.” The old man nodded at Kianna again. “Good night, miss.” He walked toward the door.
Cat dragged her feet, flinging her arms side to side, as if trying to grab a rope that tied her to Kianna. “Don’t make me go,” she whispered.
“I heard that!” Giles said, from somewhere in the manor.
“Damn it.” Cat stopped playing and waved at Kianna. “See you tomorrow. Hopefully.”
Then, she ran after her father.
Kianna’s smile lingered while she finished organizing the books and putting them back onto the shelves. She stepped back and admired her work. Half of them were done. Tomorrow, she would tackle the other half.
Following the scent, Kianna sauntered to the kitchen. Kianna leaned in front of the wood stove and carefully opened the little metal door. She spied the rising cake. Just a little longer.
By the time the cake was done, her family should be back.
Kianna stared out the window and checked the sun’s position. It was almost fully set. Her mother and her siblings had gone to the market to sell produce and buy a few necessities. They should have already returned.
If they weren't home in fifteen minutes, she would follow the road to town to meet them.
To distract herself, Kianna grabbed the broom and swept the ceramic kitchen floor. Then, she set up the table in the adjacent dining room. Four plates, four cups, and four—
“You really didn’t have to.”
Kianna straightened. That was her mother's voice, but it was too sweet to be talking to her siblings unless they had been angels in town, which she doubted.
“It’s nothing,” a new voice said.
Kianna’s brows knitted together. Curious, she crossed the hallway, opened the front door, and came face-to-face with her mother.
“Kianna, dear,” her mother said with a smile. Her hands were full of what looked like books. Books? Her mother stepped to the side, giving Kianna a full view of the owner of the strange voice. “This is Devon,” she said. “He saw me on the road and offered to help.”