An entire week passed, and within that week, Gregory produced many suitors for Simina, but she denied each one. She did not like any of them, so she refused every one. He even recommended her friend Ernest to her, but she still denied him even then. Even though Ernest was her friend, she did not want to marry him. Ernest agreed. Ernest did not want to force anything on Simina that she did not want.
Secretly, Gregory was glad that she'd denied every suitor he offered. He kept this to himself because if the government found out, they would think he was purposefully making her reject the suitors. Simina didn't know any of these men, and Gregory did not want his daughter to marry someone she didn't know and wouldn't be happy with.
Frustrated, Simina was reluctant to make a choice. She did not want to marry anyone, but she did not want to leave her home. She'd lived here her whole life. This is where her mother had lived. This village was the only place she'd ever known. And time was running out. She had to make a choice soon. Depressed, Simina found herself in the stables with Winona. Sighing, she rested her head on her neck.
"What am I going to do, Winona?" Tears threatened to spill like a rushing waterfall. Winona only huffed in response. The stable gate creaked and Simina glanced up, her cheeks flushed and tear stained. Ernest stood there sheepishly and waved.
"Hi," he said cautiously. At the sight of her best friend, Simina cried harder. She ran to him and flung herself into his arms. He squeezed her tightly and Simina inhaled his familiar, comforting scent.
"I'm sorry this is happening," he whispered into her hair.
She shook her head. "It's not your fault."
"I know that," he sighed.
Ernest pulled away from her, smiling sadly. "It's not too late, you know."
Simina sniffled. "What's not too late?"
"To marry me...you can stay here, then," he suggested again. "And it will just be a marriage in name only. You can do what you want, and things won't change. You'd just live with me. We don't have to do all those other things..."
"But that would just be settling," Simina replied. "I don't want that, and I know you don't want that either."
Ernest sighed heavily. "I know...I just wish there was something I could do."
She shrugged. "Maybe it's time I finally had an adventure. I'm always talking about wanting one. This might be it. Maybe this is the start of my fairytale."
Ernest knew that Simina was trying to make light of the situation, but her misguided view of the world bothered him. "Life isn't like a fairytale, Simina. This is real."
"I know that..." She scuffed her shoe in the dirt.
"If you change your mind, you know where to find me." With one last hug, Simina watched Ernest wander away one last time.
By the end of the week, she'd refused at least over a dozen young men. Sometimes, she'd be offered at least five a day, each man pledging how good he'd be for her. Even if Simina thought one suitor was attractive, she did not want to choose him because she didn't know him. When the officials arrived at the end of the week, Simina hadn't chosen, and she'd already sealed her fate. She knew she'd have to go away to live with her aunt and cousins on the right side of Lazera.
The officials arrived that evening, on the last day of the week, as supper was readying. Simina opened the door for them as they knocked. They stood at the threshold, dressed in all the finest material used to make the finest garments for the people considered to have "high status." Her father ushered them in, and they all sat at the kitchen table. Simina trying to remain unnoticed.
"Good evening to the both of you," the first official greeted. He was a short, stout little man but muscular in build and handsome. She recognized his voice from the other day. The other official was very tall but fat, with balding hair.
"I trust you've produced some suitors?" the first asked. Simina's father nodded.
"Yes. I have." The second one sat up straighter.
"Who has she chosen?" They asked her father like she wasn't even there. Frankly, she didn't want them to notice her. Lazerian officials made her uneasy. Her father shrugged.
"None of them," Gregory said, trying not to let the smile show on his lips. The officials' jaws dropped. Simina had to turn away to avoid laughing and covered her mouth with her hand. The first official managed to gather himself and speak.
"Excuse me? W-what did you say?" he stuttered, flabbergasted. Simina's father tilted his chin confidently.
"She rejected each suitor, each one," he said. The officials gawked at Simina and opened their mouths. The second official spoke this time.
"You turned down every one?" he asked her, finally speaking directly to Simina. Timidly, she nodded.
"Yes, sir," she muttered, quiet as a mouse. The first official looked offended and stood. Following his lead, the second official stood. The first official cleared his throat.
"Well then. She must be taken elsewhere, where she will be better provided. I suggest you start packing your things. Your carriage will be departing tomorrow morning," the first official told Simina. And with that, he tipped his hat.
"Good day to you." And with swift, sure movements, they showed themselves out. Simina slumped in her chair, her posture now slouchy and relaxed. She was so relieved it was over. Simina and her father glanced at each other, her father's eyes filled with sadness. He gave her a small smile. Simina wished he wouldn't look at her like that. It nearly made her cry.
"I suppose we better get packing," her father told her, and stood.
It didn't take her long to pack. Simina didn't have many things, just some clothes. That was mainly it. After packing, they ate supper in silence and went to bed. Simina rose early the following day to prepare for her long journey. From what she assumed, they'd be taking a sturdy carriage and possibly have to use a sleigh to get through the Snowy Hills. But Simina had heard of carriages with wheels that could conform to blades like ones on a sleigh. They'd have to be changed manually, of course. Since transport was by carriage, and they'd have to travel a long distance, it would take days to arrive at their destination.
She'd packed one parcel of food containing a few slices of bread, some frost apples, and orange grass. That should be plenty for a few days. She put on her cloak, scarf, and shawl for good measure. She stuffed her feet into her galoshes. Simina heard the neighing of the horses and the clop-clop of their hooves on the concrete. She'd already said her goodbyes to Winona earlier this morning. It had only taken her thirty minutes to prepare and another thirty for the carriage to arrive.
Simina turned and gave her father one last tight hug. He squeezed her tight in a comforting way, almost lifting her off her feet. She enjoyed his warm embrace one last time, wishing she didn't have to leave him. But, it was the law. After a good long time, he pulled away to look at her and placed both hands on her shoulders. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Gregory hated seeing his daughter go.
"You be safe now, all right? Be good to your aunt, huh?" he said to her. Tears in her eyes, Simina nodded.
"Okay. I will," she assured.
"Try to stay out of mischief. You write to me every day when you can. Okay?" Simina nodded, not knowing what else to say.
"I promise," was all she could think to say. He pulled her in for one last hug and pulled away.
"I love you," her father said as she pulled away.
"I love you too, Father," she choked out. Someone outside yelled at her to hurry. Quickly, she turned and walked out the door, where the carriage waited.
To her surprise, Simina saw Ernest waiting to say goodbye. She smiled and hugged him.
Ernest hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go. He sighed a sorrowful, breathless sigh into her ear.
"I'm really going to miss you, Simina," Ernest said sadly once he'd pulled away. Simina smiled.
"I'll miss you too, Ernest," she told him, and planted a small, soft kiss to his cheek. Ernest blushed but said nothing.
"Write to me?" His voice sounded shaky, like he was trying not to cry. She nodded.
"Of course." Hanging his head, Ernest stepped aside. The carriage driver opened the door for her. Holding up her skirt, she climbed in and took a seat, parcel in hand. The driver gently shut the door. Final preparations were made and the driver climbed aboard his horse. He flicked the whip.
"Hee-ya!" he said, and the horse trotted away. The carriage rolled forward. Simina stared out the window, watching solemnly as her father and Ernest waved her goodbye.