Under The Maple Tree

1] Him

It was a bleak mid winter, strong chilly wind blew past me as my soft woolen scarf waltzed around.

The galloping of the horses died down and the sun kissed the horizon leaving behind a splatter of red and yellow in the cloudy evening sky. That's where, I first saw him.
Across the street, standing below a gigantic leafless maple tree wearing a thick coat that went slightly below his knees.

His raven hair flowing in the breeze like silk and his eyes shining brightly just like starlight. Our eyes met for a fraction, and my heartbeat quickened.

His expression was cold, resembling the snow beneath. His collar partly hid his face, but anybody could tell that he was not a commoner just by a glance. For a moment, It seemed I forgot to breath and the next thing I know, somebody grabbed my hand from behind and turned me around.

"What's wrong? What're you looking at?" asked Grace with a worried look on her face.

I blinked, as if coming out of a trance. I returned my gaze towards the maple tree, and to my dismay the man was gone. My eyes searched through the entire street as far as they could, but he was nowhere to be found.

"N-nothing. Let's go or else we'll be late for dinner." I said, eyes still roaming around trying to find the mysterious man. I ran through the crowd, holding Grace's hand in one and clutching my long skirt with another making my way towards home. Our home.

Along the coast of a shallow river, away from the people and crowded streets situated a small cottage, that we called our home.
It was hidden behind a number of tall trees but we could still see the smoke coming out of the chimney from a mile away.

"Hurry up!" I told Grace, who was a few feet behind me. "Mother's going to scold us for this."

"That's because you were daydreaming standing in the middle of the street" Grace huffed from behind.

"I wasn't!!!" I retorted in defence.

"Yeah, right." She rolled her eyes and continued walking.

I was not... daydreaming. Or was I? Was he even real or just a fragment of my own imagination. I Couldn't tell. But again, he was far more ethereal than something I could ever envision or dream of.

"...Ria, Ria? There You go again."

I was startled by her voice yelling, now right beside me. She looked at me questioningly, where as I, was not sure what to say and kept silence. Even though Grace was 3 years younger than me, she was smart and very observant for her age. She inherited my mother's soft pale skin with blooming red hair and a delicate frame. She's not even 16 yet, but already as tall as me.

Whereas I, was plain. Dark brown hair and slightly tan skin, just like my father. Brown hair was hereditary in my father's side of the family, and we assumed that's why my ancestors gained the last name 'Browne'. Who knows. Doesn't change the fact of who I am. Gloria Browne. Daughter of a blacksmith and a painter who sells her passion to earn for a her family.

Grace picked up a flower from the bush and tucked it in my hair smiling widely. I gave her a fake courtesy and she ran ahead giggling. It was already nightfall when we reached the cottage. Huffing and puffing, I knocked on the wooden door. After a minute or so, the door was opened for us.

Mother stood at the doorway with an enraged look on her face, both hands on the waist and her pale face flushed with anger.

We stepped inside one by one, removing our shoes and winter coats and hanging them behind the door. The smell of freshly baked bread invaded my nostrils and my stomach growled. Father was sitting on his usual spot with a book in hand and glasses hung over his nose. Mother immediately made her way towards the small lounge. While me and Grace soon followed.

"These girls are getting out of hand, I tell you Arthur." Mother spoke loudly and father averting his eyes from the book looked at us. Whereas we stood with a foolish smile plastered on our guilty faces.

"It's already the third time this week. I can no longer control them, best marry them off sooner than later." Mother snapped.

"Now, now dear. They're young and want some freedom. Let them enjoy their youth. And it's not even that late." Father said, putting the book aside.

"But, Arthur..."

"Don't worry yourself, dear. Let's have dinner first?" He smiled and mother's anger vanished into thin air. Grace smirked at me and I smirked back.

"Hurry along girls, come on. Wash your hands and set the table quickly."

We had our dinner in peace and quiet. Too quiet, since we already made a ruckus three times this week, better to not provoke any further. I and Grace exchanged a few glances now and then and after we were done we trudged towards the kitchen to wash the dishes.

Grace and I shared a single room, not so luxurious but enough to contain the both of us and our few belongings. A queen sized bed in the middle followed by a small dressing table with a wall mirror and a wooden wardrobe in the corner. Ivory painted walls chipping and cracking at the base. It was humble but we were more than grateful to have it.

I entered the room and saw Grace lying on her side of the bed, her feet dangling from the edge as she hummed a song, she heard in the town. It's a wonder that she was so unchatty this evening, felt unusual but I needed it, I wanted to hear myself think, think about him. I closed the door and started undoing my braid in front of the mirror. A pair of dark brown almond eyes stared back at me and my mind started reminiscing the earlier events. A few minutes later, I changed into my night wear and collapsed on the bed and as soon as I closed my eyes, my body drowned in a deep slumber.