Twenty-Four Hours Earlier...

AMBER let out a sigh as the curtain covering her bed was pulled aside, revealing a set of vivid green eyes that belonged to a woman whose advanced years had not diminished her strength and determination.

"It is time to wake up, girl." She gestured to the windows as she spoke. The woman pulled the curtains as far apart as was necessary before Amber could object, allowing the bright morning sunlight to flood the room. It gave Amber a migraine. She covered her face with her hand out of instinct to protect herself from the blinding light.

"How are you, milady?"

With a groan, she eased herself into a sitting position. "Terrible, thanks to you."

"You're just lazy. I need to spank you more often."

Amber looked at her middle-aged maid, who had been more like a mother to her than anyone else, and forced a meek smile. Many years had passed since Ruth first began serving her mother when she was just a young girl, and Ruth continued to love and care for Amber even after her mother passed away, giving birth to her. Ruth had since raised Amber with an even greater amount of love. Ruth was the mother she never had, and Amber couldn't be more grateful to have her.

"I started bleeding yesterday. You know how I feel when that happens."

Ruth put her hands around her waist. "Is it a coincidence that you begin to bleed after I swear to spank you?"

Amber laughed and stood. "Fine, I'm not bleeding yet. But I will soon, so please don't spank me."

Ruth laughed and shook her head, then smiled. "That's what I want to see, my child." She said. "That beautiful smile."

Amber lightly stroked Ruth's shoulders. "Thank you, Ruth."

They exchanged long glances filled with unspoken words, knowing that the gratitude was for more than just not being spanked.

"Did you sleep well?" Ruth asked.

With a nod, Amber headed to the restroom to cleanse her face, while Ruth started gathering the bedspread.

"Good. I would hate to be all by myself today. I missed you yesterday, going to the market on my own. That couch looked so enormous and roomy without you."

Amber straightened from the washing basin and walked into the room. "If I can recall correctly, you insisted I stay in bed."

Ruth raised her thin shoulders in a shrug. "What could I have done? You were running a temperature. I couldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you, and peradventure your betrothed returns and finds you ailing. I would be in trouble!"

Amber's expression became sad. If only Ruth realized the impact of the words she just said.

Her betrothed. She almost burst into mock laughter.

"What betrothed? The one I have been awaiting for five years? Or the one I have never met?" She asked sarcastically, then snapped her fingers. "Oh, that's right, they are the same, the one and only." She finished bitterly.

Ruth looked skeptically at Amber. "Oh, dear heavens, girl. What is the matter with you today?"

Amber sighed. She shook her head sadly. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. "It's my birth anniversary tomorrow, Ruthie. I will be twenty-five years old." She whispered the second half of her statement.

Ruth didn't need the reminder. She had been present when Amber was born, and her birth anniversary was ingrained in her memory. And how could Ruth not know Amber's age? After all, she was going to surprise her with a gift that had been on her mind ever since her mother died.

"I know that, sweet child. What does that have to do with your melancholy?"

Amber sat on the bed, raising her legs so that her chin rested on her knees. She couldn't answer Ruth. She was going to be twenty-five!

She had been engaged since the age of nineteen, which was, to begin with, far too old. Mothers had gossiped about her as they paraded their betrothed daughters with wedding dates set.

More out of relief than anything else, she had hurriedly agreed to it when hers finally happened. As time passed, she grew to love the concept of being engaged and was full of hope for a dreamy future. She had even foolishly imagined herself on her twenty-fifth birthday, her husband by her side and maybe five children running around causing mischief with their governesses flanking them, watching over them to make sure they do not get hurt. She would been watching from the garden, where she would be picking tomatoes, apples, or -

Ruth's soft hand placed on her back snapped her out of her daydream. One she had been having every day for the past five years, one she had grown tired of. She was sick of the temporary comfort daydreaming gave her, as it only left her with longing. Hope. Well, King Solomon in the Holy Bible wasn't wrong when he said hope deferred makes the heart sick.

She was way past sick. She was weary and tired. She wanted the real thing. The real feeling.

The worst of all was that she didn't even know what her betrothed looks like. All she knew was he was from a rich family and was away in the seas. Today, he was a pirate in her dreams, on the morrow, he was a war lord. The next he was a sailor. She didn't know what identity to give him anymore. Tears stung at the back of her eyes but she refused to let it spill.

"Dear, don't tell me this is about what Dorcas and Philomena said to you. Is it?"

Amber sighed loudly. How could she have forgotten? Her twin stepsisters, Dorcas and Phil had visited yestereve, bearing tales about their marriages and how beautiful and magical and amazing it was. Dorcas had two children, while Phil was currently pregnant with her third, and all they had done was naught but rub salt in her wounds.

"M'dear. I know you think Dorcas and Philomena has everything sorted and under control, but it's not always so. You don't know if they were just painting a picturesque scenery just to spite you."

"Their children is no indication of spite, Ruth." Amber replied. "It speaks in volumes what I so lack – a husband and children of mine." She took in deep breaths. "My peers are married but here I am, dreaming of a betrothed I'm not sure exists."

Ruth gave her a sad look. "Amber, dear, I really wish you wouldn't be so sad about this."

"I can't help it. Life isn't fair." Amber's face crumpled and she started to sob. Ruth reached for her and gathered her in her arms.

"Hush now my child, hush."

A noisy commotion downstairs drew their attention.

"Oh not again." Ruth muttered with a groan. She looked at Amber with concern. "Feeling any better?"

Amber nodded and Ruth kissed her forehead then went down the stairs, probably to be about her morning duties, even with the commotion happening.

Amber just sat there waiting. She was all too familiar with the commotion.

Her room door was yanked open and the reason for the commotion stepped in – one that never ceased to put a smile on her face. But today she didn't feel like smiling, which really offended the cause of the commotion.

"Now, now, Amber girl, don't say you didn't miss me."

"I didn't miss you."

Before Amber could get a retort, her valet burst in, his face red in embarrassment at walking in on her while she was still in her night clothes. But Amber was far from giving a hoot. Normally, she would have been up at first light, dressed, eaten and gone down to the docks to await – furtively – the arrival of her betrothed. She had done it for five, long years. The only time she didn't go was when dragged away by her only friend Bianca – who had been the cause of the commotion downstairs.

"I apologize, milady, but I tried to stop her –" He glanced at Bianca, as if frightened of her, and he had every right to be. Though Bianca was just twenty-three, she had a huge and dominating stature.

Amber's gaze travelled from Bianca's boatlike feet clad in sturdy clogs to her ruddy face framed by dark red hair. The distance was at least a score of hands and realized there was reason for her valet to be frightened. If Bianca's pawlike hands could slap him, or anyone for that matter, they would be bed ridden, that was for sure.

At heart, however, Bianca was the exact opposite of her stature. She was warm and kind and never pretended to be who or what she wasn't. Just like she was pretending to be happy with her life with an invisible husband-to-be. Granted, being betrothed had temporarily ceased the chin wagging about her but it's only gotten worse by the years. The whole town was now wary of her. She was probably going to die a spinster.

"Aye, aye, but I'm in now. You can show yourself out P man." Bianca said, waving away Peter, her valet and bringing her to the present.

Peter's frightful look hovered over to Amber for a moment, and she shrugged, which dismissed the man. He shut the door with a gentle click.

"Do you always have to cause a ruckus whenever you come here?" Amber asked dryly.

Bianca grinned at her and moved towards the bed. She plopped down on it and the bed squeaked under her weight. "I thought you always enjoyed it."

Amber shrugged, wishing, for the first time, that Bianca would go away. Guilt washed over her as soon as that thought occurred to her but could she help it? She just wanted to be alone so she could cry and bemoan her sad fate. But Bianca was as meticulous as she was mischievous. Nothing escaped her careful, watchful eyes.

She saw through Amber's nonchalance right off and narrowed her eyes at her. "What now Amber girl?"

Amber was two years older but she always felt the younger one with Bianca. She was so easy to talk to, so understanding, so gentle and so Amber didn't feel the need not to relay her worries to her friend.

"Hmm." Bianca's brow creased in thought after Amber had given her a brief summary of her plight. "I really don't know how to console you, but all I can say is, it's time you put yourself out there."

"What?" Amber, whose eyes had been bright and shiny with tears seconds ago now looked at her best friend with sceptism. "What do you mean, 'put yourself out there' ?" As if remembering her past experiences with her friend, Amber raised her hands. "You know what? I don't want to know what you mean."

"Yes you do."

"No, I do not."

"Yes, you do," Bianca said again with a sing-song voice.

Amber sighed in resignation. "What do you have in mind?"

Bianca's eyes lit up and her face broke into a mischievous grin, one that had never done either of them any good in the past, and said confidently;

"I have a great idea."

*

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