Amora

The sun beat down hard on all of us as we pulled weeds, searched for clean water, picked through food, cut grass, and did every imaginable farm job. Sweat rolled down our faces. Dirt covered our clothes and skin. This was my life, and honestly, I couldn’t love it more.

“Celine, quit slackin’! Money ain’t gonna grow from these fields!” my mother yelled, walking out of the house in her apron and pointing a spatula at me.

“I am working, woman,” I retorted, tossing some weeds in her direction.

She shook her head with a smile and went back inside to finish cooking dinner, which I was extremely grateful for. Nothing she made ever turned out bad… unless I helped. That’s when we had to worry about the Fire Force making a little visit to Primrose.

“Celine!” my dad called out. “Want to come with me to Daffodil for the big merchant sale this weekend?”

I’d completely forgotten it was Friday, and that next week was The Choosing. Nine girls selected to try to fall in love with the prince. Ew. Gross. Find love yourself, buddy.

“Yes, sir, I will!” I answered cheerfully, tossing my gloves to the ground and sticking my tongue out at my brother Jeremy, who just shook his head at me.

Skipping to the back door, I called out, “Mama, I’m going with Daddy to Daffodil!”

“Honey! You need to clean yourself up! What if you meet a handsome boy and fall in love? You could move up in life and get us some more money,” my mom rambled.

“Mom, I look fine.” I glanced down. Jean shorts, a tied-up blue shirt, and muddy tennis shoes. My hair was in a ponytail with a few strands falling out. Nothing to worry about.

“Oh, you.” She grabbed a washcloth and came toward me, probably having spotted dirt on my face.

Eyes widening, I darted around the table to escape her. That’s when Dad walked in and paused at the door.

“Honey, she looks fine. Let’s go, Celine.”

Grinning in triumph, I kissed my mom on the cheek. “And a win for Celine Sonny.”

She laughed as I ruffled Blaire’s hair when she entered the kitchen. Blaire’s four years younger than me, and we’re like two peas in a pod. Everyone says we look alike, but I think she’s the true beauty of the family. Of course, she thinks I am.

Dad didn’t say much during the truck ride to Daffodil. We only have one vehicle. A beat-up red truck with two seats, so it’s always just the two of us for merchant runs.

Will Merica is our merchant. He sells everything we grow, and we get just five percent of the profits. Not the best deal, but it was the best option when my parents made it.

“You carry the carrots. There’s three buckets, and I’ll get the tomatoes,” Dad instructed.

I nodded and hopped out of the truck into the busy square. People bustled around the shops. Girls giggled over dresses for The Choosing. Boys loitered or tried half-heartedly to sell things. Everyone acted like the merchants were struggling, but truth be told, they were comfortable.

“Oh, great!” Will clapped his hands as we arrived. “Just dump them in the bins with labels. We’re low on apples, peaches, grapes, and potatoes!”

I ignored his rambling. Will always annoyed me. As I poured the carrots into their bin, I noticed people staring, probably judging my rank. Personally, I don’t think rank should matter. Elite or farmer, we’re all human. But hey, that’s just a farmer’s opinion.

Buckets empty, I started back to the truck while Dad finished chatting with Will.

“Celine?”

I turned around and saw Rylee Taylor. Him. In all his glory, running toward me.

“Taylor!” I yelled, dropping my buckets and running into his arms. He wrapped me up and held me tight.

I’ve liked Rylee for three years now. He’s the cutest maid in all of Clover. Blonde curls, charming brown eyes, and a smile that reels you in. Every girl in Clover and Primrose has a crush on him. Blaire and I gush over him for days, even though Mom scolds us for setting our sights so low.

He held me tight, and all I could think was: Please ask me to marry you already.

“We’re still on for tonight?” he whispered into my ear.

I nodded, blushing. Our eyes met. Why couldn’t he just be mine?

Letting go, I extended a hand formally. “It was very nice to see you, Rylee.”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw my dad walking out, then took my hand. “And you too, Miss Sonny.”

“C’mon, Celine. We’ve got to get home for the news report. Have a good day, Mr. Taylor.”

“You too, Mr. Sonny.”

Our whole family crammed into the living room. I sat on the floor with Blaire, her head on my shoulder. Dad was in his usual chair. Mom, Jeremy, and Daphne squeezed onto the couch. Our little TV, government-issued and only working during news hours, sat in front of us.

Usually, Blaire, Jeremy, and I would sit together and whisper comments during the broadcast, but since Jeremy married Daphne, he sits up with her and Mom. Daphne’s pregnant, so she needs the space. Her parents disowned her when she chose to marry a farmer over a guard three ranks above her. But we adore her, she’s sweet, kind, and makes the best pastries.

“Hello, citizens of Amora!” Grandly announced as his face appeared onscreen.

Mom started gushing. Blaire clapped. Daphne cheered.

Grandly has always done the news. He’s like Amora’s star reporter.

“As we all know,” he continued, “next week we’ll visit each town and select one girl from each rank to win the heart of our beloved prince.”

Prince Lucas appeared, waving to the camera before sitting in a royal blue chair.

“Thank you for joining us, Your Highness,” Grandly said. “Tell me, what are you looking for?”

Lucas smiled shyly. “Honestly, I don’t know. Every girl will be unique. One of them will become queen, so I must choose carefully.”

Mom, Blaire, and Daphne all swooned. I rolled my eyes. Who’d want to marry someone so... polished?

Later that night, after the news report, which also mentioned help from the Nation of Berki, a decrease in attacks, and The Choosing starting tomorrow in Geraniums (home of the “richie richs”). I finished brushing through my raven-black hair. Blaire and I share that trait. People say we’re almost identical, though I think she’s prettier.

It was five past ten. I slipped on my hoodie, Jeremy found it for me, and slowly opened my window. I know sneaking out sounds bad, but I’ve been doing it for three years. I’m not stopping now.

Running down the dirt path and behind trees, I glanced back at our fading wooden shack. It wasn’t much, but it was home. It was everything.

The September night was warm. Stars glittered. A full moon lit the sky.

Perfect night to see Rylee Taylor.

And there he was, under our tree. Not Amora’s, not the world’s. Ours.

He looked down until I stepped on a twig. Then he glanced up, smiled, and ran to me. Wrapping his arms around me, he picked me up and spun me. I never wanted to leave his arms.

“How’s my girl doing?” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

Smiling, I answered, “I’m fine. How’s my Rylee doing?”

He kissed my cheek. “Always better when you’re around.”

We’ve been together in secret for three years. We can’t go public until he proposes, or my mom would lose it. She has dreams of her daughters marrying into wealth, not staying stuck with strugglers like us. That’s why she always fusses over my appearance anytime I go somewhere “higher.”

Rylee and I held hands and walked to the base of the tree, where we sat.

“What’s going to happen with the Choosing?” I asked.

“It’s been on my mind all day,” he said, gently rubbing my fingers like he always does when he’s being real. “The odds of your name getting picked? Maybe five percent.”

“But what if I do get picked?”

“Then you’d say no. Because I’m going to marry you,” he said, chuckling, touching my nose, and kissing it.

He cupped my face. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

As our lips touched, I smiled.

I knew, no matter what life threw at us, I was going to be his wife.