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Betrothed. I’ve been betrothed for fifteen years. Of course I didn’t know I was betrothed until I was twelve. That was three years ago.
I now stood at the backdoor, looking out into the sunset. I had turned fifteen today. Exactly three years ago I had learned about the secrets that they, my parents, had kept from me.

“You’re betrothed. Betrothed to . . . Prince Steffen.” I stared at the madwomen, dumbfounded. I looked to my pa. He nodded in agreement.

“Why? Why me?” I asked them, still amazed. Ma looked at pa. He started to explain.

“The Queen and King went to their personal Seer. They asked her who would be the best wife and queen for their son. She told them of a girl who would be born in that very city. One who would be born to a carpenter. The babe would be two years younger then their son.”

“But you’re not a carpenter.” I interjected.

“I was. Until your mother gave birth to you. The Queen and King found out about you, the only girl born to a carpenter that year throughout the entire country. They, the royal family themselves, came to our humble house. Even Prince Steffen was there. They told us about their meeting with the Seer and about how the betrothal would work. I had to give up my job as a carpenter or they would take you away and give you to another family. I became a merchant.”

“For me?” I asked.

“For you.” I could see the love in his eyes as he looked at me, but I could also see sadness in them. He missed being a carpenter.

I looked at my birthday gifts I had gotten: New clothes to look decent, books to be less ignorant, and a ring the, sign of the betrothal.

The sun dipped out of sight in a flash of brilliant colors. I stood there, looking at where the sun had once been when I heard my ma’s voice yelling, “Amanda! Get in here. You could catch a chill! Come inside now!” I stood there, just a few minutes longer, I pleaded silently. I stood until it got cold, although I didn’t notice. It seemed like forever when my mother yelled again. I slowly turned around and entered the house.

My mother wasn’t afraid of me getting a chill as much as she was worried that I’d get kidnapped. Apparently I was blossoming into a beautiful young lady and ‘every young man in the city’ wanted me. I don’t believe it, but it was my mother, you can’t argue with her.

I fingered the ring before taking it off and carefully placing it on top of my clothes before I climbed into the tub. I soaked, taking as long as I could before the water got cold and I had to get out. I combed my hair, not wanting our one servant to do it, and climbed into bed. I couldn’t sleep though. I didn’t want to marry the prince. When I was younger I loved the idea of being a princess, now I loathed it.