Stepping out of the bath, I decided I had to do something unethical: something that had the potential to get me locked away in a tower to rot for life.

I knew the risks that came with it, but I was still willing, for it was the only way.

I resolved to take the risk and intended to accept whatever capital punishment I deserved if things went south.

Whether it be death by hanging or spanking, I planned to shoulder it all.

I...

drumroll, please!

...was going to lie.

Capital offense, right?

Not?

I begged to differ.

It wasn't going to be one petty lie.

It involved a host of people that had no idea and a party that absolutely was not going to take place, except the one that was.

I had already replayed every possible scenario in my mind, and I had a seventy percent chance of succeeding. All I needed was a believable set of facial expressions, which could fool dad, but not mom.

She wasn't the focus, anyway. Dad was.

A good bath was always perfect for devising plans, and I had had one.

Closing my door shut, I sauntered to the center of the room, feeling downright devious.

Maybe I was jumping the gun, and maybe I wasn't; only time could tell.

Tossing my towel to the side, I got to drying up while brushing up on any of the rough edges of my plan.

Before long, I was in some underwear and reached for a ribbon by the side of my mirror.

Sticking my tongue out by habit, I started tying up my hair, readying it for the struggle.

Why bother?

I'd thought of doing nothing and just going all-natural. But I decided against it eventually.

Even if it were going to be a simple style, I wanted to try it. I desired the satisfaction of doing something right, even if it were subtle, regardless of the hell it would take.

But it was a wholly different story for the party later; I was certainly going with a bang.

I had contemplated what would be possible since I had very few options, and, eventually, I settled on something that could work.

I didn't dislike my hair; if anything, I loved that it seemed uncommon, especially the gold tips. I could use it to trap Oliver; probably the only perk.

But I did dislike the fact that it needed more maintenance than I was willing to provide. Anyway, I made a mental note to request some of dad's concoctions for aid.

Before long, I was twisting and turning before the mirror, checking out what I had on: obviously one of mom's pieces.

I considered it a breach of ethics to wear anything remotely free from mom's influence, and wearing an original Jillian's satisfied me.

The dress was simple emerald and lacked all the fuss most of my other dresses had.

"If I even had an inch of her talent..." I murmured enviously. I only knew how to embroider little things.

You mean hideously shaped little things?

Shut up.

Mom had a reputation that preceded her around these parts. As her daughter, it wasn't strange that I felt slightly inferior sometimes, but meh. What could I do?

Banishing the thoughts, I moved on with my pre-lunch preparations.

When I finished, I sighed and stared into the mirror for a moment longer.

I turned seventeen today.

Seventeen!

I could be considered an adult already, and it felt off-putting.

To think that I was already at the age where I could be shipped off to a baby-making factory was absurd. Sure I knew a thing or two about making babies, but...

Making and raising were two different things.

I didn't even know how to raise myself to talk less of another tiny human.

All that responsibility was absurd.

Responsibility.

The word echoed in my head repeatedly.

Entering a solemn state, my parents came to mind first, and I started feeling sympathetic.

I did not know whether or not they were ready to raise a family, but the fact that they tried and had gotten this far with all that responsibility made my heart soften a bit.

No matter how insensitive I could get, I would always acknowledge what they had done and will want to continue doing.

But I was also going to acknowledge what they didn't do because I saw it glaringly.

It stared back at me in the reflection every time I passed by a mirror or a clear stream. It followed me just a day before my birthday and the day after.

He followed me.

I bit my lips in apprehension as I spiraled unknowingly.

The similarities were now apparent.

The eyes, nose, skin, everything.

He would've been here. If it weren't for that cursed day.

I dreaded thinking about that day, so I avoided doing so until the day in question came every year, just like I planned to do this year.

But that was just it; there was little I could do involving them and more regarding me.

I could take responsibility for some things, not all, just some.

After all, it was my fault.

Sighing, I released the frustrations that were building.

Although I would sooner or later break down even if I actively tried not to dwell on it, I did not want that to happen today.

"You can do this," I affirmed with a nod while desperately resisting the urge to yank my clothes off and wallow in a candlelit corner, reading tragic romance in abject sorrow.

A date with Martin Balms? Gladly.

His 'Love and Lies' was simply divine. Too bad he died before finishing the sequel, I heard.

Poor Louie.

While Louie ended up in a comatose state for the rest of his life, Louisa was forced to marry her grandfather's colleague.

She couldn't even commit suicide because of her hope for his recovery. Alas, Louisa passed of old age before even he did.

It really was tragic, their love.

After all, they went through.

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

Unexpectedly, a knock reverberated throughout the room, knocking me out of my reverie.

"Yes?"

Dad's voice followed. "We are waiting for you."

"Oh!" Exclaiming, I replied, "Sorry, I will be right there!"

I walked up to the door and pulled it open, revealing Dad standing before it.

Haha.

The first thing that caught my eye was his ridiculously long trousers.

He dressed minimally, as was the theme for every birthday lunch; cream shirt and trousers, both linen.

"What?" He asked with an innocent expression, looking back and forth between himself and me.

Coughing subtly, I stifled the urge to let out a cackle and said, "I'm ready."

I waved away his worries, to which he blinked skeptically before eventually letting go.

Sighing, he said and stepped away from the door, "You sure are."

"Hm?" I hummed in question before closing the door shut.

"Oh, it's just that you are so grown up now!" He exclaimed with a surprised smile.

"I ceased being a child a while ago, dad." I rolled my eyes with a chuckle, suppressing that I did somewhat share his excitement.

Hands on his waist, he smiled bitterly, "Yes. But, it feels like it happened overnight."

That was the funny part about growing up. Time seemed to slip through one's fingers before you even realized it, leaving one unable to prepare or anticipate what life had in store.

I sighed, deciding to say something meaningful.

"Maybe, it did, dad. Maybe it did." I shrugged while he maintained eye contact.

It did.

Explaining was for another time.

Raising my brows, I started, "Wait... are you-"

"No, I am not." He suddenly cut me off before turning away.

"You are crying!" I restrained myself from keeling over in laughter as I recalled how his face morphed into a hideous sight.

"No, I am not." He coughed, tapping the corner of his eyes. I assumed he didn't realize what a dead giveaway the action was.

"Awwn!" I cooed as he turned back with a glare.

Dad wasn't a softie who'd cry over trivial things.

Sticking my tongue out, I started, "You're being such a p-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" He cut my sentence with his large fingers.

Snickering, I sent him a smile, "Uh. Relax. I was just about to say, 'You are being such a p-arent..." I feigned unawareness.

"Hm.." He eyed.

"Nice save," He snorted with crossed arms. Muttering just loud enough to hear, he sighed, "I should have listened to your mother."

Eh, he'll get over it.

"Come on! Don't be such a baby, and let's go." I said, intent on ignoring his mini-tantrum.

"Daphne! Erys!" Mom's voice echoed throughout the house.

"Coming, mother!" I screamed back hurriedly.

Frowning slightly, I yanked one of his crossed arms and whispered, "If we don't get moving now, we will be in deep shit, and our heads would be on pikes."

Yes!

I rejoiced inside when I noticed he trembled.

I loved mom's deterrent powers.

Soon, he offered an arm, obviously to link with mine.

Then came the most ridiculous excuse I had ever heard, "I'm only listening to you because I don't want your head on a pike on your birthday."

I snorted this time and moved to link my arm with his.

Just as I was about to complete the action, I paused and raised a finger at him.

"If any of our heads' going on a pike first, it would be yours, period." His face darkened and he scoffed.

I let a smile dance around my lips inconspicuously.

It's go-time!

"Dad?" I asked as we crossed the corridor, arm in arm.

"Yes?" He sounded ticked, but I ignored it.

"There's this thing that I got invited to..." I started while stealing small glances at him.

An intrigued look splashed across his eyes. He tried to maintain a sour expression when he was clearly interested.

Hook.

"And what would that be?"

We got to the stairs, and I turned to look at him with a perfectly curated nervous expression on my face.

"Isabel extended an invitation for a gathering at the Headman's Manor." I slowed when I mentioned the displeasing man.

Isabel was the twins' aunt: their father's younger sister.

And as if I didn't expect it, Mom appeared at the base of the stairs right at the same time with a disgusted look on her face.

"Lucrum?" she asked with whatever word that could describe intense revulsion.

She hated him, and that wasn't even half of it.

The bastard had tried to make a move on her before, but she gave him a black eye before Dad could beat him to death. Good ol' times.

"Well, yes, her friends from the village are exclusively invited."

"The least irritating of the bunch, I see," Dad commented with a bitter tone.

It was sad that she had to marry Lucrum to help her brother's bakery. She was just a few years older than me and had had her second child already. She didn't seem to be suffering, so that was a plus.

Oh, if he had an off switch.

"It still doesn't change the fact that it's his mansion, and he has a grudge against me for his shattered elbow. I don't trust you anywhere near the manor." Mom quipped.

Ah yes, that too.

"I know that, but..."

I gave a tentative shake of my head, then scratched my neck, further adding to the shy demeanor I was trying to build.

"But what?" She said dryly, obviously not buying it yet.

"Well, for one..." I paused, then tilted my eyes to glance at dad.

"Oliver said he wanted me to be there..."

I'm sorry, Oliver!

Suddenly I felt my linked arm tremble before Dad yanked his arm away and turned around to face me with the widest grin I had ever seen on his face.

Line!

"Oliver?" He exclaimed like a teenage girl living her princess dream, which I found cringing, but I had to go along with it and act how I needed to.

For the party!

I reaffirmed my conviction to sell the story before continuing.

"Y-yes..." I nodded shyly, tucking my hair behind my ear. To further drive the nail into the coffin, I started imagining him, his jawline, hair, everything.

There.

I exposed my blush into full view.

Honestly, that boy was sugar! And he was like moderately tall, and despite the fact that he worked in the smithy, he still had proper hygiene.

Proper hygiene!

Compared to the rest of the village boys who resembled jungle animals, he was a cut above the rest.

He was understanding and polite. The only downside was his less-than-stellar intellect...

Huff.

But then again, I was different compared to them in that department.

I'm sorry, Oliver, once again!

"The blacksmith's son?" Mom asked with incredulousness painted across her face.

"Are you serious?" Dad shook me back to face him, and I almost forgot not to stop blushing.

"Y-yes," I said even more firmly, allowing excitement to decorate my tone.

"That still doesn't change anything. I don't want you anywhere near Lucrum's territory." Mom chimed in, her tone hinting finality.

I looked at her in horror and quickly turned to face Dad, my eyes screaming for help.

He stared at me for a few seconds before standing up straight and clearing his throat.

"She should go." He said with a deeper, more authoritative tone.

Yes!

I cheered quietly, since I could see the ending of the issue.

"What? No!" Mom quickly refused; her eyes curved to slits.

"The place is dangerous, and I will not let her risk her life or wellbeing." She stamped.

"Oliver could beat Lucrum and all his guards senseless. Besides, the twins will be there and their aunt Isabel." He argued convincingly, in my opinion.

I nodded along.

She started, "B-but-"

"I think it's best if we allow her to live." He cut her off!

He crossed his arms, and I could have almost burst with joy when he did.

Cutting her off?

Crossing his arms in Mom's presence?

Standing opposite her on a decision?

Sinker?

There was just one little thing left. It was a slightly disgusting little thing, but I had to endure the thought if I wanted to party tonight.

"No way." She shook her head and placed her fist on her sides.

"Daphne, could you please give us a few minutes? Your Mother and I need to discuss this thoroughly." He said, then skipped down the stairs.

"Jill, the study, please." He stated, pointing towards the study.

Just before she disappeared, Mom sent me a wounding stare before stomping off and disappearing through the corridor.

My books!

I waited and waited.

Then I started hearing thumps and crashes.

I gagged in response.

Some things never changed.

I just wished safety to the literary gold works there.

As I expected, they both came out after more than a few minutes, Mom clearing her throat and smoothing her dress.

Dad's hair was still as shaggy as always, but I could've sworn it was even shaggier considering what had just happened in minutes.

They thought they were smooth, but I noticed Mom's jewelry was slightly displaced. That tiny wedding ring was a few degrees to the left, a dead giveaway.

Dad's collar was slightly bent. I snickered.

I could put a mastermind to shame.

"Your mother and I have come to the conclusion that you may go and have fun with Oliver tonight." He announced while Mom walked off to settle at the now decorated dining table.

Sinker!!

When she settled in her seat, she shot me a soul-searching stare.

"No funny business." Her tone brooked no argument.

Dad nodded in agreement, "Yes, save that till you are engaged."

What?!

"Um... O-okay." I croaked out, resisting the slight blush.

It was probably their compromise, and I was obliged to heed it since I wasn't seeing Oliver tonight.

But the gathering was actually happening.

I declined the twins' invitation because I had Sage's already.

"Yes, ma'am!" I agreed straight away.

"The food smells lovely, darling!" Dad made his way to sit beside Mom at the head of the table after sending me a wink.

I forced myself to wink back at him so the act wouldn't blow over my face.

He rubbed his palms together as he took his seat.