Ari inhaled. Already? She stood and walked past Sarah into the hallway. She forced herself to take one step after another until she reached the top of the stairs. Her stomach twisted and turned, heavy with dread, and each stride felt like a walk to the executioner. The weight of impending disaster increased with every moment, and a sickening feeling of doom enveloped her.
She descended the stairs to the main floor, where she could hear the din of a large gathering. As she nervously bit her lip, she walked into the corridor, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. The hallway was filled with men from all walks of life: knights in armor, merchants wearing their finest tunics, and villagers. Instinctively, her gaze darted around the room, searching for Finn’s familiar face, only to realize what she was doing. He would not be there. Heavy disappointment washed over her.
She walked slowly and deliberately, her gown swirling around her feet. As she moved forward, the crowd opened like a curtain to let her pass, bowing their heads in respect. Her father stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, beaming with pride as he watched her.
Ari looked away, angry and betrayed. How could he be celebrating when he had effectively ruined her life? He’d had no right to tell Finn not to enter the contest. Now, she was stuck in a situation of her own making.
She stepped through the doorway and paused, taken aback by the transformation of the room. The air was thick with the aroma of pine and cinnamon. Beautiful garlands of ivy and holly draped the walls. Wreaths of winter foliage hung from every corner with red and gold ribbons tied in a bow. Normally, Ari would have been brimming with elation at the decorations. But as her gaze fell upon the rows of tables and gifts, her chest tightened with sadness.
“Do not show any favoritism,” her father whispered as he walked with her to the first table. “Not until you know which you will choose.”
Her eyes scanned the first gift. A large dead buck. His glossy antlers were entwined with holly branches, and his eyes stared up at her, glassy and unblinking. A chill ran through her body as she realized that some noble had thought that this rotting animal could win her heart. How little they knew her. She quickly walked to the next gift, trying desperately not to let her repulsion show.
Each present was separated by a row of ivy and a red bow. The next area was occupied by a sparkling display of precious jewelry that glittered in the soft orange glow of the hearth fire. She passed by it.
She heard tiny mews coming from the next gift, a lone crate, and cautiously lifted the lid. The sight of three tiny kittens curled up together in the corner caused her heart jump. She scooped one of the little babies into her hands, and it snuggled in her palm, making a pitiful mewing sound. With its bright blue eyes and pink nose, it was so small and helpless that she felt a surge of protective love for it.
She turned to search for Sarah and spied a knight wearing gleaming armor nodding smugly and smiling at his friends in the doorway.
Ari quickly turned her expression blank as Sarah hurried to her side. She handed Sarah the kitten with a whispered, “Get these poor things some food.”
Sarah took the little cat from her and bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, m’lady.”
Ari moved to the next gift. A large pile of gold. She glanced at her father, who stared at her hopefully.
Ari sighed and turned away from the golden coins, unimpressed. Jewelry, gold, kittens—none of it gave any indication that her suitors knew her well.
As she reached the final table, a sudden pang of disappointment overwhelmed her. Despite knowing that Finn wouldn’t enter the contest, there had been a small part of her that still held out hope. She had wanted so desperately to find something…magical, something extraordinary that would take her breath away.
But as she passed each gift, the hope in her heart faded. Until finally, her eyes were fixed on a black horse of steel. She froze before the gift, inspecting it. So very intricately shaped and worked. The beautiful silver roses around the horse’s neck were so small and so perfect. The curve of the horse’s neck was perfect. Each flank was so precise that she could almost see the imagined muscle beneath. Each hoof was rounded and sturdy. She stared in wonder at the beauty, thinking it might be a hallucination.
There was only one man who could have forged the horse. Finn.
“Say nothing yet,” her father reminded her. “Look at all the gifts before you make your decision.”
Agonizingly, she continued but couldn’t take her gaze off the horse.
She scanned the length of the table at the array of gifts. The shine of gold, the sparkle of gemstones, the lush colors. The beautiful flowers were a pleasant surprise because she couldn’t figure out where her suitor had found them in the midst of winter. Then her gaze settled on the black horse, and a thrill passed through her. She moved with purpose toward the horse, reaching for it.
“Wait!” someone called from the corridor. “There’s another gift!”
Ari turned to see the crowd parting and Mabel approaching. Confusion washed over her, and her gaze dropped to Mabel’s hands, which were cupped to house the gift.
Murmurings spread throughout the room like buzzing from flies.
As Mabel drew closer, her hands encased a delicate rose sculpture that looked almost alive. Its petals were fashioned from steel, each of them curled into perfection and glimmering red. When her father took it from Mabel’s hands with a “thank you,” Ari saw the red stain on Mabel’s hands as if it had been dipped in dye.
“Sloppy,” her father murmured, turning to place it in the last position on the table.
Desperate to enter, Ari thought as she inspected the rose. The craftsmanship of the flower was impeccable; each petal was formed with such precision. Even the leaves were perfectly fashioned. So perfect, so amazingly beautiful. The red dye wasn’t sticking to the steel and was falling from the metal petals. This only made it more realistic. Ari was certain Finn had crafted this. No one else could have. Why would he have entered twice?
She glanced back at the horse, but there was something in the rose she couldn’t tear her gaze from. It reminded her of wistful days walking amidst wild roses with Finn. That was when she had realized she loved him. It was before she left for her aunt’s. She couldn’t tell him she loved him. She had wanted to tell him how she felt but feared it might have scared him off. So, she had shared with him the symbolism of the rose being the flower of love instead, hoping that the meaning would be clear enough. He had plucked one and presented it to her as if he could sense the truth.
And now, she stared down at the steel rose, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. She knew this was it. This token of love forever represented the bond between them. Her heart swelled. “This one,” she murmured. “This is the one I choose.”
She turned to see Kage walking forward, and her heart dropped in dread.
“How can you pick that one?” he demanded, pointing in disgust at the rose. “The horse is much better.”
