Amelia rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“It is not tragic,” she replied.
Trixie pointed at her accusingly. “It sounds tragic.”
Amelia laughed despite herself and brushed an escaped curl behind her ear. “Very well,” she conceded with a smile. “Slightly tragic.”
Valerie tilted her head thoughtfully and rested her elbow on the back of the bench.
“If you want love so much,” she asked quietly, “what are you afraid of?”
The question caught Amelia off guard. Her smile faded slightly as she looked down at her hands folded in her lap.
For a moment, she considered giving a simple answer. Something polite and forgettable. Yet the longer she sat there, the more she realized she was tired of pretending. Tired of shaping herself into whatever version other people preferred. Valerie and Trixie waited patiently while she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she exhaled slowly.
“I am afraid of disappearing,” she said.
Both girls frowned. Amelia smiled faintly.
“I want to be seen as capable,” she explained. “Not handled. Not arranged. Not managed like a household account.”
She shook her head. “I want to make my own choices. I want someone to choose me because they genuinely wish to, not because our families decided it was convenient.”
Trixie nodded slowly while Valerie watched her intently.
“And I do not wish to lose myself to a husband who believes his opinion is the only one that matters as he locks me away to do his bidding and have no freedoms of my own.”
Valerie looked away for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the flowerbeds as though the answer might be hidden among the roses.
Then she said quietly, lowering her voice, “I want that too.”
The admission surprised Amelia. Valerie rarely revealed her fears so openly.
“I think,” Valerie continued, twisting her fingers together in her lap and avoiding Amelia’s eyes, “that every girl worries about becoming trapped.”
Amelia nodded gently and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. “Perhaps.”
Trixie brightened, sitting up straighter on the bench.
“My future husband shall be perfect,” she declared, clasping her hands dramatically beneath her chin.
Valerie laughed and shook her head. “Then you had better start praying now,” she said dryly, lifting an eyebrow.
Trixie gasped in mock offense while Amelia covered a smile with her hand. The three of them dissolved into laughter.
Yet even as Amelia smiled, she found herself reflecting upon her own words. They were truer than she cared to admit. For most ofher life, she had survived by pleasing others. She had learned to be agreeable. Polite. Accommodating. Every decision had been filtered through someone else’s expectations. Running away had been reckless and foolish, but for the first time in her life, she had acted entirely for herself.
“I think,” Amelia said thoughtfully, “that I became very skilled at ignoring what I wanted.”
Valerie glanced towards her. “And now?”
Amelia smiled. “Now I am rather desperate for independence after having a taste of it here.”
Amelia excused herself. Valerie and Trixie remained in the garden while she followed one of the paths leading towards the open meadows beyond the house.
The late afternoon sun painted everything in warm gold, and a gentle breeze stirred the grass around her. She walked slowly, enjoying the quiet. Her mind lingered on everything she had shared. It felt strange to speak honestly after spending so many years carefully guarding her thoughts.
Then she heard the distant thunder of hooves. Amelia looked up, and her breath caught. Gabriel was riding across the meadow.
