At the Woodchopper's Ball Bk. 01 Ch. 06

My wondering gaze drifted to Enide once more. I endeavoured to find something to fault but it was futile. Everything about her captivated me. For what seemed like the umpteenth time, I asked myself how I had managed to miss it — how I had avoided falling in love with her until now. It was as if I had been wandering through life with blinders on.

Enide looked up and caught me staring, rewarding me with a dazzling smile. I wanted to swim over and say something but the fear of revealing the depth of my feelings held me back. Enide looked away, a hint of sadness in her eyes. I would have given anything to know the thoughts that danced through her mind.

After our swim, we opted to unwind in the dry heat room. We shed our damp swimwear and exchanged them for plush towels before making our way to the chamber. As we stepped inside, a sudden blast of warmth hit us like a wave. The air was thick with heat, dry and prickling against my skin. The three of us settled down on the wooden benches. I felt my muscles begin to unwind as the heat seeped into my bones.

Not long after our arrival, a trio of elderly gentlemen departed the room. We reciprocated their friendly smiles, glad that the room was now ours alone.

Enide and Andra sat opposite, and we basked in the heat and tranquil stillness. I tried not to stare too blatantly at their smooth, glowing skin, but it was hard not to notice how radiant they looked in the warm, golden light of the room. We closed our eyes, letting the heat wrap around us like a warm blanket.

Eventually, the silence became tedious and we began to talk. Our conversation drifted aimlessly from one topic to another before settling on our plans. I realised that I had very little knowledge of Andra's intentions.

I leaned back against the backrest. "What about you Andra? What are your plans?"

After a shrug, she flashed a smile and teased, "I'll let you take a wild guess."

I hesitated, cautious not to trip head-first into a trap. Like a lamb in a field, Andra seemed perfectly harmless but a glint of something showed in her smile.

I had no interest in pigeonholing Andra as a particular "type". As a Fortunbrae lad, I knew well the irritation of being labelled as typical of the type and I tried to avoid casting others into the same narrow mould. But, there was no denying the prevailing perception that existed about girls like Andra and Enide.

Earnell and its environs were home to a decent number of affluent families. Many of the young women from these households could rest assured that their futures were secured by the goodly pile they stood to inherit. They were not especially troubled by the mundane requirements of securing good jobs and making a living.

Generally speaking, these bright young things would toddle off to a nearby academy, although their favoured destination was the university at Braxa. The station adjacent to the university was conveniently located just a few stops down the railway line.

While there, they would typically dabble in one of three subjects: history, art, or literature. Then, after three years, they would emerge with a diploma, betrothed to a suitable young man and an aspiration to become a writer that was rarely realised.

Enide was set to read history at Braxa — I knew this already. As for Andra, I faintly remembered Enide mentioning that she planned to attend the same university, but what she would study escaped me. Still, I had a premonition that Andra didn't relish abstract mathematics.

"Well, well, well," I said with an impish grin. "Let me see if I've got this straight. You're off to Braxa, and I suppose a girl like you will probably read literature. So tell me ——" I took a pregnant pause. "Do you already have a catchy title for your first novel? Don't be shy now — let's hear it."

Andra turned to Enide, half-heartedly feigning indignation. "Is he mocking me?" she asked, not bothering to hide her amusement.

"He is mocking both of us," Enide told her. "But it's good to know he can put two and two together," she said sarcastically.

"Unlike some," I said addressing Andra while winking at Enide, "I've always been good at maths."

Enide sighed dramatically. "Rody is fond of expounding his belief that because my family are well-off, I am detached from humdrum reality," she complained. "We just can't understand, you see, because one day, we'll have an income."

Andra pointed at me accusingly as she addressed Enide."But he has an income!"

"That's right, and he gets an allowance on top of it," Enide agreed sagaciously.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" I said with an impatient sigh. "I can't believe you're trying to compare the modest sums my grandmother left us to your situation."

"Well, I don't have an income," Andra pointed out.

"Yet," Enide amended but otherwise nodded in agreement.

I tried to think of a way to illustrate the disparity in our finances. "To put it into perspective," I said, "with my monthly income, I could afford to buy a couple of good shirts and maybe a few decent pairs of socks."

Andra frowned. "Oh dear — you sound terribly poor."

I couldn't tell if she was being serious.

"That's still more than I get," Enide huffed.

I shook my head. "I bet I couldn't even afford to have your car serviced for how much I get." I speculated.

"Well... you probably could if you saved up a bit," Enide countered. "Stop buying so many shirts," she suggested.

Andra agreed. "How many pairs of socks does a man need anyway?"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"I know what they say about people like us," Andra asserted with defiance. "They can sneer all they like. Yes, I would like to be a writer but writing is hard work. Even if you start off with an advantage — talent, humour, crazy relatives — it still takes plenty of sweat."

Enide nodded in agreement. "On the other hand, you do get to sit around in silk pyjamas all day."

"I'd prefer that to mucking out stables at the crack of dawn. Did you do a lot of that at school?"

"It builds character... I'm told."

"Why do they bother still?" Enide asked. "I don't suppose there is much use for cavalry anymore."

"Things that build character all seem a little redundant somehow," I told her.

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At nights, alone with my thoughts, a feeling of melancholy would come over me. I'd wonder how it would feel to once again leave Enide behind. In my darkened room, the cold grip of loneliness would take hold, and the emptiness of my bed seemed to envelop me.

My mind would drift to the hours I had spent with Enide, going over every exchange and every word. Like lingering spectres, stolen glances and unspoken sentiments haunted my thoughts, refusing to fade away.

At first, when my sister had confided in me about Enide's past interest in me, I had been doubtful. I told myself it was a closed chapter — a memory that had faded. However, as the days passed, I began to believe Enide's interest in me had been reignited. Subtle signs that had confounded me became easier to discern. Smouldering embers burst into flames.

The realisation brought me no pleasure. There was no escaping it, no ambiguity to cling to — Enide was suffering the same as I was. Our hearts stirred even as we were fated to part. Was it just a simple twist of fate or was destiny playing a cruel trick on us?

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