Remembered (9 page)

Yes, he
would
see her around town. She was forming a
plan in her head as she watched him walk down the hill.

The following day, she hurried into town despite the fact
that she had absolutely nothing constructive to do there, apart from
implementing her ill-conceived scheme.

She brought the book that Mrs. Wellum had lent her. Her
intention was to sit on the steps of the Bank Building and read for a few
hours, hoping that she would get a glimpse of him and to find some reason to
engage him in conversation. No good could come from this silly infatuation, she
realized, but that didn’t stop her from seeing his face in her mind constantly.

After an hour of unsuccessfully trying to concentrate on the
first paragraph, she saw blue from the side of her eye. Eight apprentices
descended the steps of the Citadom.

Her stomach fluttered with anticipation. She stood up and
quickly walked through the market, pretending to be interested in buying fruit,
thinking of any excuse to approach Kellus.

It took her only a moment to realize that he wasn’t among
them. Disappointed, she walked back to the steps of the bank and opened the
book to continue her pathetic attempt at concentrating.

‘This is utterly ridiculous,’
she silently scolded
herself.
‘Why should I feel disappointment over not seeing a man that I
barely know, one of the apprentices, no less?’
She suddenly felt very
foolish for sitting around waiting to get a glimpse of him, and decided to go
home.

As she passed by a shop on the left side of the market, she
happened to glance in the window and noticed the most beautiful hair clip she’d
ever seen. It was round and silver and covered with tiny crystals. She loved
the way it caught the light, throwing rainbows through the window.

Knowing that she couldn’t afford such a lovely object, she
walked into the shop and waited for the shopkeeper. Finally, after a minute or
two, he approached. “I’d like to see the hair clip in the window, the one with
the crystals,” she announced.

The shopkeeper nodded. He came back seconds later and placed
the clip into her hand. She stared at it longingly. Although she was not one to
normally desire pretty trinkets, this hair clip was special. It was the
prettiest object she’d ever seen.

“It would look lovely in your beautiful hair,” a voice
whispered into her left ear.

She turned her head quickly and instantly felt her face
flush. It was him—Kellus.

She handed the clip back to the shopkeeper with a
thank
you
, effectively addressing both men at once.

“Hello, Annella Derlyn. How are you?” he asked formally.

“I’m well, thank you, and you?” she replied happily.

“Much better for seeing your smile,” he answered, causing
her heart to skip a beat.

Something in his formal greeting caused her to remember a
burning question she had. “Kellus, I’m curious to know how you knew my name. I
meant to ask you the other day, but it slipped my mind.”

“I knew your father,” he answered, smiling sadly.

“How did you know my father?” she asked.

“As a boy, I worked in my father’s shop during the summer,”
he explained. “Your father delivered goods to us from the port. I spoke with
him on many occasions, three or four times a week. He was a good man.”

She was surprised. She hadn’t anticipated that explanation.
She wondered why her father had never mentioned him.

“My family attended your parent’s funeral,” he continued. “I
know you wouldn’t remember us from that day, but I remembered you. I felt so
sad for you, and remember wanting to say something comforting, but I was an
awkward boy,” he chuckled. “I also remember being intimidated by your beauty.”

“It was a very sad day,” she admitted, unable to think of
any other reply. “So, your father owned a shop?” she asked, hoping to lighten
the mood.

“He still does,” Kellus replied. “This one.”

“This is your father’s shop?”

“Yes, and this is my father,” he answered, nodding in the
direction of the shopkeeper who still held the clip in his hand.

The shopkeeper and Kellus were so alike that Annie wondered
how she hadn’t noticed sooner. The shopkeeper was tall and handsome, about
forty-five years old. His hair was dark brown with gray speckles peppered
through. He had twinkling eyes, like someone who found great joy in life.

“You are Annella Derlyn?” the shopkeeper asked.

“Yes, sir, I am. I assume you knew my father also.”

“Yes, I did. He was a wonderful man,” he replied.

“Thank you,” she responded sadly, feeling her eyes begin to
sting. She still found it hard to talk about her parents, even after so many
years.

“Are you alright? Would you like to sit for a moment?”
Kellus questioned.

“No, I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

Kellus continued to stare into her eyes, causing her to feel
uncomfortable suddenly.

“Would you like to buy the hair clip, Annella? the
shopkeeper asked. “I would like to give you a special price.”

“No, thank you, sir, I was just admiring it,” she answered.

“Please call me Tol,” he said kindly.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Tol, but I should be going
now,” she said.

“I should be going as well,” Kellus added. He bid goodbye to
his father and held the door opened for Annie.

She walked through the door and turned to say goodbye, but
must have misjudged the distance between them. When she turned, they were much
too close, merely inches apart—her eyes were level with his collarbone. They
both blushed and took a step back.

“Goodbye, Kellus,” she said bashfully.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Annie,” he answered,
staring deep into her eyes once again. She had a feeling he wanted to say
something, but thought better of it.

She broke the stare and walked up the hill.

The rest of the day was spent in inner dialogue, arguing
with herself that this attraction was useless—despite her growing
infatuation—and that she must put him out of her head completely.

She went to sleep quite content that she had come to her
senses, that she would no longer think of Kellus constantly, and that her more
logical side had won the battle.

By morning, however, it was obvious her efforts would be in
vain.

“Annie, look at this,” Max called from the front door.

“What is it?” she replied, rising her voice above the patter
of raindrops that pelted her bedroom window. She decided to stay in bed later
than usual. It was a wet, miserable day, a perfect day to finish the book Mrs.
Wellum had lent her, or rather, to start it, since she still had no idea what
was written on the first page.

“Come here and see,” he yelled back.

She pulled the blanket off the bed, wrapped it around her
shoulders, and walked up the hallway to the front door, feeling agitated. “What
is it?” she moaned.

“Look there,” Max said, pointing outside the door into the
rain.

A small black box sat in a puddle on the top step, a soggy
note tucked underneath it. The note tore apart when she picked it up, but she
could make out enough of the lettering to tell it simply said
‘To Annella’
.
She looked up and down the hill. There was no one in sight.

“What is that?” Cora asked.

“Give me one second,” Annie answered, pulling the lid of the
wet box. Inside, sitting on a velvet cushion, was the hair clip that she had
admired in Tol’s shop.

Cora and Max both stared at her, waiting for an explanation.
“It’s from a friend of mine, a man that knew father. I met him yesterday while
I was admiring this,” she said, overcome by the surprise. So much for her plans
to forget Kellus.

“Him…a man?’ Cora squawked.

“Why would this man leave such a pretty gift outside our
door for you?” Max asked.

“Are you really that dimwitted?” Cora snapped. “Because he
likes Annie; he’s trying to win her affections, of course.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Annie broke in “He is just being kind.”

“Annie, are
you
really that dimwitted? Cora questioned.

“Trust me, Cora; this man is not in a position to win
anyone’s affections.”

“He’s married?” Cora gasped.

“No, he’s one of the apprentices,” Annie replied.

“Is that all?” Cora responded smugly as if that proved her
right. “Just because a young man is not supposed to have a romance, does not
mean that he doesn’t want to. I think it’s obvious by this pretty gift that
this apprentice thinks of you as more than a friend.”

Annie was elated by the possibility that Cora could be right,
that Kellus actually cared for her. And then she remembered, with bitterness,
that it didn’t change the fact that nothing would come from it.

The day of the Mid-Spring festival arrived.

When evening fell, Annie pulled her favorite skirt from her
wardrobe—a long, light-green, gauze and satin summer skirt with intricate
embroidered whirls around the bottom, and tiny sequins sprinkled through. Her
blouse was off-white with a square neck, tight waistband, and loose flowing
cuffs.

When her hair was dried and her curls sitting perfectly, she
pulled a piece of hair back from both sides on her head and joined them
together in a thin braid, secured with green and white ribbons. The rest of her
curls flowed freely over her shoulders.

“You look beautiful, Annie,” Cora said, walking through the
bedroom door.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” Annie
replied.

Cora wore a long, light-blue, sleeveless dress, tight
through the waist. Her hair was piled on top of her head. “I doubt anyone will
notice me when I’m standing next to you,” she answered, smiling broadly at her
older sister. “You will undoubtedly be the most beautiful woman at the
festival.”

“Thank you, Cora,” Annie said emotionally.

“I’m serious,” Cora remarked. “You’d better be on your guard,
or you will be targeted by every drunk with a false sense of confidence.”

They met Max at the front door and left the house together.

The weather was perfect, warm and balmy, but with a soothing
breeze, making the evening seem even more magical.

When they approached town, Annie was shocked to see the
amount of people that were walking up the narrow road beside the Citadom, to Lanshore
Field, all dressed so festively. She could hear music before they approached
the town center.

Poles were erected every three feet around the entire
circumference of Lanshore field, each pole holding a blue paper lantern on top.
There were many more lanterns inside the field, hung on dozens of tree
branches.

Barrels of beer and wine were heaped up, stacked across the back
of the field, and to the right of those, were many tables laden with all kinds
of food.

In the center of the field, a large bonfire—standing at
least twenty feet high—was ready to be ignited.

On the left side, near the entrance, a collection of musicians
played a cheerful melody.

Everywhere Annie looked, there were elegantly dressed people
greeting one another.

As soon as they sat on the grass, between the bonfire and
the musicians, she saw them. Four young men were walking in their direction,
all wearing the apprentice uniform. Kellus was looking directly at her.

He came to a dead stop in front of them and looked down. The
other three apprentices stopped behind him. “Good evening,” he said, smiling.

“Good evening to you, too,” Annie replied. “Have you come to
enjoy the party?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head, “we’re on duty,
unfortunately. We’re here to make sure that everyone behaves in an orderly
manner,” he added, gesturing to his three companions. “With all the beer and
wine available, we’ll see to it that the gentlemen remember to behave like
gentlemen.”

“Come on, Kellus, we’re supposed to meet Mandolis for
assignments,” a handsome, blonde apprentice urged. He was one of the two that
escorted Annie’s harassing sailor from town.

“I have to go,” Kellus said regretfully. “Enjoy the party,
Annie.”

As Kellus started to walk away, Annie impulsively jumped up
and walked after him. “Kellus,” she called, “may I speak to you briefly.”

“Go on ahead, Danus,” Kellus said to the handsome blonde.
“I’ll catch up momentarily.” He turned to her, arching his eyebrows
questioningly.

“I want to thank you for the hair clip. It was extremely
generous of you,” she muttered.

“What hair clip?” he asked, looking confused.

“The one that I looked at in your father’s shop; you left it
on my doorstep,” she replied.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded. He
bowed to her and began to walk away, but turned back, looking over his right
shoulder, and winked with a sly grin.

Her heart fluttered in her chest.

“The man that knew father, I assume.” Cora eyed her sister
knowingly.

“Yes, it is,” Annie replied, unable to erase the smile from
her face.

“Handsome,” Cora muttered, nodding her head in approval.

The musicians played the perfect combination of upbeat
tunes, and then slower, more melodic pieces that seemed to accent the clear,
breezy night, creating an enchanting atmosphere—and complementing the
thundering applause of the crowd as the bonfire roared to life.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Cora asked. “I’d be happy
to get it for you?”

“Yes, please,” Annie replied.

“Bring me a glass of fruit juice,” Max called after her as
she darted through a group of people.

She returned ten minutes later, holding two glasses in her
hands, wearing a devious smile.

“What?” Annie asked, knowing that her sister was up to
something.

“I saw your apprentice,” Cora replied with a smirk. “I was
wrong before. Under the light of a lantern, I could see that he is much more
than merely handsome.”