The wildflower field enhanced the young woman's beauty. Or perhaps it was she who made the scene seem even more beautiful. He had never felt this way before. Her hair swayed with the wind, long fiery curls contrasting with the tattered, old rags she wore, but these did not diminish her beauty; on the contrary, they made her shine.
"What a treasure," he murmured, unable to help himself.
She turned and looked at him directly, her clear eyes shining like the calm sky just after dawn.
"Pardon?" she asked.
His legs began to tremble. How could this girl have such an impact on him? Nothing and no one had ever made him react this way before.
"I-I-I wasn't talking to you. I… I meant…" he stammered.
She smiled, a wide, bright smile—one of those that leave you speechless and seem to fill the entire space.
"The field, right? It's beautiful," she said, turning her gaze back to the flowers.
Without warning, she began to spin with her arms outstretched, laughing softly. Her patched skirt twirled with her, and her hair—like fire in the wind—rippled in lively waves.
"Here I feel free," she said, stopping to look at the sky. "It's like I can finally breathe."
He watched her, absorbed. Without thinking, he stepped into the field and imitated her. At first, he felt ridiculous, but something changed. They laughed. And for a moment, the world seemed to stop.
The next day, he returned to the same place hoping to see her. He scanned the landscape but there was no sign of her. Then, hands grabbed his shoulders from behind.
"Boo!" she shouted enthusiastically.
The scare made him fall flat on his face.
"Hey, you…" he exclaimed, turning around. It was her, smiling with a sweetness that disarmed him, as if the sun had hidden behind her lips.
"I'm so sorry," she said, offering her hand to help him up. "I wanted to surprise you. I see you like this place too."
"Yes, I like it a lot. So I'll come here whenever I can," he replied awkwardly—perhaps even selfishly—but deep down, he wanted her to understand he didn't want to stop seeing her.
"My name is Lirea. And you?" she asked, ignoring his awkward declaration.
"Lucan," he answered.
"Now that we know each other's names… let's be friends!"
He fell silent, surprised by how easily she said it.
She noticed and smiled softly.
"If we're going to see each other here often, we better be friends, don't you think?"
He hesitated for a second and then nodded. She raised her pinky finger and linked it with his.
"Let's promise this place will be our secret. That as long as we meet here, it will always be us," she said.
"I promise," he replied, not fully understanding what she meant.
From that day on, they met there almost every day. And with each meeting, he fell a little more in love with her.
He had made a decision.
Lirea walked down the dusty village streets with firm steps, carrying a basket of fresh vegetables she had picked from the fields that very morning. The sun warmed her skin and raised a light sweat on her forehead, but she didn't stop. She had to finish her errands before sunset.
As she passed, several children ran out of their houses towards her, with wide smiles and bright eyes.
"Lirea!" they shouted in unison. "Do you want to play later?"
She smiled at them warmly and nodded.
"Sure, I'll finish up and come get you."
The village elders, sitting on the doorsteps of their houses, greeted her with kind gestures and soft words.
"Good morning, Lirea. It's good to see you working hard."
"Thank you, Grandpa Mateo. The fields need care, and someone has to do it."
The adults she crossed paths with also greeted her respectfully, some exchanging brief words about the weather or the harvest.
Lirea was part of the village's daily heartbeat, and although her life was simple and marked by hard work, she found in these small encounters a reason to keep going.
After delivering the vegetables, she headed to the fields to help with plant cleaning. Her hands moved skillfully, knowing that every task, no matter how small, contributed to her family's well-being.
When she arrived home, Lirea noticed something strange. Her parents were seated at the table, a parchment unfolded between their hands. The atmosphere was quieter than usual.
"What is that?" she asked cautiously.
Her mother didn't answer immediately. She simply handed her the paper.
Lirea took it and read:
Official summons
By direct order of the noble Lucan of the Royal House, the presence of young Lirea of Alden is requested at the royal residence within no more than five days.
The reason for this summons is her participation in a matrimonial selection process, approved by the Council and at the explicit request of the aforementioned noble.
Discretion is requested.
— Secretariat of the Royal Council
The silence stretched. Her father read it again over her shoulder, incredulous.
"This… this could change everything," he muttered, as if talking to himself. Then he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Finally an opportunity… a real one."
Her mother remained silent.
Lirea, however, said nothing. She held the parchment with both hands, motionless. Her brow was slightly furrowed and her gaze fixed on the paper, though she was no longer reading it.
A strange feeling twisted in her chest.
And she didn't know if it was fear, discomfort… or simply doubt.