CHAPTER 1 

Father

THE GIRLS SNOW-LIKE blonde hair glistened in the midnight sun, the heat beating down on her pale freckled face. She sat on a patch of damp grass flipping her feminine fingers through the dusty old pages she found outside of what once was a library. Her 5'5 stature sat on the small damp hill her knees to her chest as she engulfed herself in the story before her, page after page she longed for what Romeo and Juliet had. True love.

For whatever it was worth; she never felt anything coherently similar to love. She never had the butterflies, the anxious feeling one feels around their significant other– all she's felt was sorrow and loneliness. Without another thought, she slammed the book to a close, as she always did whenever she started thinking of immature things like true love– especially when one has to marry before a certain age. True love is rare in this day and age. 1716 was a rough time for all women. Marrying off to provide for your family and heir– marrying off to make sure your family isn't scrutinized for your mother's past death experiences. She knew all too well how marriage would save her family– but god forbid it to be real.

Without anything but a day dress with sewn roses on the skirt, she'd run down the hill, her feet almost sliding– drifting down the dew-dampened grass. The cows and sheep bickered in her direction. It was spring– her debut neared and now her father was soon to see his daughter with a grass-stained night dress entering the house.

Reaching the Hawthorne manor– Odette — Willow's younger sister, the second eldest Hawthorne daughter stood at the front of the door waiting for her sister, her face plastered with an anxious expression. Odette was known as the rule breaker and the rebel– but when it came to their father, he was a force she feared most of all. "Oh, gods!" Odette groaned grabbing the length of her skirt and running towards her. "Father will be here any moment! Please go in and change now!" The darker blonde-haired girl groaned shaking her head, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"I couldn't have been out that long, Dottie." Willow shook her head her golden flowing her wriggling beneath the wind of her movement. "Where is Seelie? I must change before Father arrives– I do not wish to hear how he deems me unfit to marry for our family name." She rolled her eyes at the thought– all her father talked about was marriage this marriage that– after the kids' mother passed away she often felt like he was trying to detain them, make sure they were always doing things the right way by the king so he would become favorited in many ways than one.

"She's in the dining hall preparing dinner– if I must I will help you get ready." Odette shook her head– her sister's bum of her nightdress was covered in a greenish-white stain– a grass stain. "Have you been back to that stupid meadow?" Willow let out an annoyed sigh marching her way up the spiraled grand staircase that led the two to the left wing of the house.

"Yes," She went still. "Is that a problem with you dear sister?" She flipped her entire body that was once facing her chamber's doors towards her sister who's eyebrows were furrowed and furious.

"Yes– it is!" She'd throw her hands in the air gripping the satin shaw that draped around her pale skin. "What will you do when father finds out? You won't be debuted at all. Instead, he will send you off to– to–.." She couldn't finish the sentence. But Willow knew very well the outcome.

"--To be married to a stranger."She finished her sisters' plea– she already knew the outcome. This is why within everything in the young girl's power– she would try her hardest to not show him her facade cracking within the center. "It won't happen, Dottie. Everything will be fine and I will debut as planned. You will not have to worry anymore, sister." She smiled softly at the young girl, she felt sorrow for the worry she bestowed upon her siblings, for she knew their father did enough of that already.

Her sister sighed almost a breath of relief– "I will go get Seelie, please pick a dress out quickly! Not only is Father on his way home, but we have a ball to go to in the castle– please tell me you didn't forget already."

Willow sucked in a big gasp almost knocking herself off her feet. "I didn't forget." She was lying– she did forget the ball, the very ball where she would search like a female hawk for a mate suitable to bear children with. "Now please– go fetch Seelie, I must bathe this muck off of my arms." Odette rolled her eyes and swiftly turned for the stairs leaving Willow yet again alone.

A small knock filled her chambers– Willow lay sprawled across her bed reading yet another book that was hidden within her pillowcase. "Come in." She'd call out. Seelie, her maid, walked through the dark oak doorway smiling softly.

"Hello, Miss." She'd bow her head respectively. "Did you pick out a dress for tonight's ball yet?" Willow closed the book sliding it back into her pillowcase, hoisting herself up over the side of her bed.

"I did," She'd start towards the dark oak closet– it was engraved with silver flowers flowing and twisting every which way. "I'm thinking of the pale blue one– the queen likes blue, yes?" Seelie nodded.

"I believe so, Miss." Willow sighed at the young maiden.

"Seelie– I do not wish to be called a miss. Nor did I wish to be called madam. My name is Willow and I'd prefer you called me as such." It was unfair, the power the nobles held above the lower class. That was yet another thing Willow Renae Hawthorne hated more than anything. The power the ungrateful earned over people who were the same as one another. Skin and bone, and blood.

Seelie's cheeks turned a dark red, and she brushed her hair over her blushed cheeks. "Yes, Miss Willow." Willow sighed– it was something.

Willow stood in front of the vanity beside her dresser— the pale white silk that was once tied to hold her dress's back together was now loosened. Seelie lifted the dress to the girl's pale ankles allowing Willow to step out and over her night dress.

First was the fishbone-lined skirt puffer— she slid it on carefully over her head and shoulders down to her hips. Safetying the hoop skirt to her hip securely. Then Seelie came with the thin underdress— the skirt had a puffy silk lined ring at the bottom of her skirt. Seelie got onto her tiptoes gently overlaying the pale blue over dress, latching the braided buckle. Tying the small pale pastel blue satin into small bows that rowed her back to mid-spine. "There, Miss Willow." Seelie smiled brightly— satisfied with her swift work.

Willow's hair was in a half up half down braid. A small braid lined her head like a crown— while the rest of her pale snow-like hair moved swiftly to look at herself in the mirror. Seelie peaked yet again over the blonde's shoulder— sliding a few small pale blue flowers in between the spaces of the braid. It still sometimes amazes her how quickly Seelie came up with new fashion trends. Willow smiled, "Thank you, Seelie. I look wonderful." Seelie blushed at the compliment.

A loud neigh! Escape the corridors from outside the manor— Willow grabbed her skirt swiftly moving herself toward the window. There he was. Father. Willow didn't know whether or not to feel appraised for this discovery that her father had finally made it home— or if she should flee and find a husband right away. "He's— he's here." Sorrow filled her heart— she had found her answer.

Odette ran down the cold stone stairs hurriedly with her young sister Amelia, and her twin Amelio behind her. Their father was finally home– though it was quiet and soothing whilst he wasn't around, she still felt the need to make his ego a little bigger. She felt that if he found out how his kids were behaving they'd all be orphans by now. Willow and Seelie rushed through the long but narrow hall leading to the front door that was guarded by the small glass protectors made of iron. The center of the door had roses and lilies spiraling around the letter H in a small hollowed-out circle.

"Father!" Amelia called out in a hurry— first to gain brownie points. A tall salt and pepper-haired man hopped out of the black and bronze carriage, the butler to the left of him still holding his bags from the ride.

"Amelia." He'd smile down at the youngest Hawthorne daughter. "Children." He'd peer over the others as if they were of disinterest to him. He scanned every one of them. They were each placed into a file-like line.

"You look well, father," Willow said almost immediately as he began to notice how well she was dressed. "How was the journey overseas? You'll surely tell us on the way to the ball?" Marquis Hawthorne— Theodore— sent a small nod toward the girl.

"I suppose we could talk about that on the way there, have you been looking into England's finest?" Odette held a snicker— her cheeks almost flaring into the size of an inflatable ball.

"Yes father– she has been doing very well even in her dance lessons." Amelio— the once silent as the leaves— finally spoke up. His voice was as soft and cool as winter snow. "Now shall we get toward the ball— I do not think father would like to miss being called out in front of everyone." their father would nod toward the young boy, but all of them knew he wasn't on their father's side. Inside he said that deliberately to show how unintelligent their father was; he just told his father to his face that he wanted everyone's attention on him essentially. And boy was the entire family here for it. Odetye finally snapped like the end of a latex balloon— her laugh filled the area where they stood.

"Is something funny, Odette?" Odette coughed— loud enough to sound like her lung had escaped through her mouth.

"No, father." She shook her head, her thin grass-like whispy bangs shook above her vision. She had her mother's blonde hair— but her father's darker hair tone. Her hair was just above brown-blonde. Almost a strawberry in hindsight. "I was simply giggling at the thought of finally becoming a debut next season." She'd flutter her eyelashes almost in slow motion— looking across the graveled corridor to spot her sister letting out a deep sigh of relief.

"That's if Willow decides to marry well and not make a fool of this family," he'd shake his head in distaste. "Again." Everyone turned to face Willow. Her chest tightened almost directly around her heart. She felt as though the imaginary walls of air began to close in upon her.

"That's unfair father— Willow has done nothing but try." Amelio snapped— Amelia— whose arms were hugging her fathers fell beside her. She slowly inched away from him, weary of what was to come.

"Watch your tone, boy." Amelio scoffed shaking his snowy blonde curls.

"I will do no such thing. You're selling your children to make sure you keep this hell hole and your family's fortunes safe. Have you thought of what that made us feel like?" His pale freckled face was now red. Almost as though he was no longer breathing. His voice rose like a phoenix born yet again. Amelio was never one to waste his breath much rather yell toward anyone. He hardly talked.

Everyone stood in shock. Their father's first day back and Amelio had turned everything against him. It was now a battlefield.

"Now that you're ungrateful— how about you stay here boy." Theodore's top lip quivered as if agitated. Amelia squeaked like a field mouse.

"Father— I cannot go without Amelio." He threw the youngest a glare.

"You can and you will."