3. CRUZ FAMILY

The Cruz family was well-known in Bisuldun as the town's sole textile merchants, situated near Count Wilfrido Cantanés' fortress, nestled between two rivers. Beyond the town stretched vast, untouched forests known as no man's land, reputed to be the nesting grounds and lairs of dragons and various mythological creatures. Hunters preferred to venture into the other forests that ringed the county rather than risk entering no man's land, for those who dared never returned.

Bisuldun itself was akin to any other country town, boasting a grand fortress in the guise of a castle perched atop a hill. The abodes of the lord's retainers nestled below, forming a tight cluster. In time, the town regained its prominence, owing chiefly to its strategic location. Flanked by two rivers, it was well-fortified against potential raiders. This security enticed families from lesser hamlets to settle in Bisuldun, prompting the county to flourish and prosper. The Cruz family was one such family who had fled from the capital and established themselves as prosperous merchants in Bisuldun.

They were scions of a noble lineage, one they dared not speak of, for they had fallen from grace following the demise of their patriarch at the hands of invaders. In search of sanctuary far from the capital, Dominico Cruz found solace in this remote country where his true lineage could remain concealed.

The city and its denizens were not intrinsically malevolent. Nevertheless, they all served under the dominion of Count Wilfrido Cantanés. Whilst the Count endeavoured to secure the county's economic prosperity, he afforded his knights a certain latitude that frequently resulted in dubious deeds.

Whispers abounded that his counsellor wielded formidable sorcerous abilities. Amongst the traditions embraced by the soldiers upon their return from campaigns against the neighbouring fiefs, which incessantly assailed the county's frontiers, was the custom of claiming mistresses from the pool of eligible maidens within the city.

The knights maintained their principal spouses, yet they were sanctioned to keep numerous mistresses who attended upon their chief wives. These secondary partners were oftentimes coerced into the arrangement, wrested from their kin. To circumvent such a destiny, numerous parents hastened to wed their daughters as soon as they attained twelve years of age—the juncture at which the knights typically selected them.

The city's populace had submitted manifold grievances to the Count concerning this savage tradition, yet he persistently disregarded them. His apathy merely incited the knights' progeny to perpetuate this convention, which was regarded as a recompense for their valour in combat. Among these was Florian, offspring of the Count's adviser.

It was rumoured that Florian possessed formidable sorcery skills, a legacy inherited from his father. The mere invocation of his name instilled dread in the hearts of maidens, for he was known to abduct them and, once his desires were sated, either consign them to a life of prostitution or sell them into bondage. Helpless parents stood bereft of power to intervene. The sole exceptions to his predations were those wed to gentlemen, as the law held them sacrosanct. Any breach of this statute was adjudged treasonous and bore the penalty of death.

Esthela seldom ventured beyond the confines of her domicile, and when necessity dictated, she shrouded her visage beneath a shawl, ever escorted by her mother or brothers. They had adeptly concealed her from predatory scrutiny until she attained her eighteenth year. The local populace swallowed the fiction of her disfigurement, which accounted for her perpetual veiling. Unbeknownst to them, she was precluded from betrothal, for she had been claimed since birth, a truth sequestered from all.

Regrettably, on that ill-starred day at church, the vicar implored Esthela to bare her countenance, asserting that she ought not to hide her God-given features in shame. With an abrupt gesture, he divested her of the shawl that had served as her shield, prompting a collective intake of breath from the assembly as Esthela's true aspect was laid bare before all.

To the collective astonishment of those present, she was of breathtaking beauty, impeccable in every conceivable manner. Her hair, a torrent of midnight black, cascaded in abundant waves, glistening beneath the church's light. Her eyes, an uncommon striking shade of green for the region, were framed by long and luscious lashes. Her lips, perhaps the most astonishing feature, were incredibly full and sensuous, adorned with a captivating shade of red. Even the vicar himself momentarily lapsed into an appreciative pause to admire the exquisite beauty of this young woman before, with a hint of regret, urging her to veil herself once more, cognisant that he had inadvertently drawn Florian's attention.

Florian's eyes widened with disbelief as he beheld Esthela; his yearning to claim her surged at that very instant. As the mass concluded, he readied himself to wrest her from her parents by force. His intentions were, however, thwarted by the formidable presence of Lotha, Esthela's elder brother, who enfolded her within his protective embrace. Florian, finding himself unaccompanied save for his wife, was compelled to halt his advance.

The girl trembled in fear under the watchful gaze of her mother, Anora, and her ageing father, Dominico, who glared at the shepherd with a seething rage. Dominico swiftly left the enclosure, resolute in his mission to safeguard his precious daughter.

"This is not good. I warned you not to bring her here," Anora whispered fearfully, endeavouring to shield Esthela from view. "We must send her away forthwith."

"We shall," Dominico responded with unwavering determination. "She'll go to stay with your parents. Florian wouldn't dare come for her until his knights return."

"Are you certain of that?" Lotha questioned, scepticism lacing his tone. "That brute Florian is bound to summon his father's men and pursue her. Furthermore, who shall protect her at our grandparents' abode? And the peril of our foes discovering her retreat? We must secure a marriage for her on this very day, now that she's of age."

"I understand your concerns," Dominico conceded. "But you know as well as I do that I cannot simply bestow her upon just any suitor. She is already betrothed to another."

"My dear," Lady Anora interjected with solemnity, "I appreciate your desire to honour your father's pledge. However, that is no longer a tenable course of action. No one has come forward to claim Esthela. We must find her a suitable match."

"Why don't we seek a husband for her without revealing her true lineage?" Maurin, her brother, proposed.

"We might broker a union between her and Leoric, Aldus's son, who is due to return from the border today. He would cherish and protect her," Anora suggested, clutching her daughter Esthela close as she hearkened to the conversation. "We ought to have settled this matter sooner. I maintained that delay was imprudent. Should they seek her out now, it will be too late for any recourse against us. They neglected their obligation; they were to send for her upon her sixteenth year, yet none appeared."

"My love, you are aware of the consecuencias such a match would entail," Mr. Dominic remarked, his voice tinged with melancholy. "She cannot be wed to just any suitor; you are cognisant of this fact."

"We shall disclose all to Leoric. We will instruct him on how to navigate these tribulations, despite his humbler origins. Perhaps he possesses the fortitude to endure," Mrs. Anora implored, her eyes beseeching her husband. "We must act posthaste, my dear, lest Florian and his father unearth our secret after all these years!"

Esthela observed the exchange between her parents, endeavouring to grasp the significance of their discourse. The full scope of their plans eluded her understanding, yet the notion of marrying Leoric intruded upon her thoughts. He might lack conventional allure, but she pondered on his character and whether affection for him could blossom in time. Her beauty felt burdensome, an incessant reminder of an 'owner' whose identity was shrouded in secrecy.

In addition to not knowing the identity of her so-called 'owner', Esthela was equally uncertain about the true identities of her own parents. Her father had never imparted this information to her. Perhaps it was they who were meant to retrieve her upon reaching a certain age. She dimly remembered the trepidation she felt at the prospect of departure, yet no one had appeared, and now Florian had glimpsed her.

From her earliest recollections, Esthela's life had been markedly different from that of other girls. Her parents, considering her a priceless gem, sequestered her within their abode. Much like the ladies of the town, she donned a bonnet graced with a veil that obscured her countenance, rendering her features unknown to the world.

Her days unfolded in domesticity, aiding her mother with needlework or attending to duties within their shop. The sole individuals privy to her true appearance were Leoric and his kin. As for what manner of man he was, he endeared himself to her by bringing books each time he returned from his military duties, and she held him in an affection akin to that for a brother.

Leoric, the son of her father's close confidant, though of a lower social standing, bestowed upon Esthela the kindness and regard one might reserve for a sister. He was cognisant of her betrothal to a distinguished personage, whose identity remained a mystery even to him. In Esthela's estimation, Leoric was a more desirable match than Florian.

Upon their arrival at the residence, they hastened to make ready for their impending flight, anticipating Leoric's return to the kingdom. An urgent missive had been dispatched to him, imploring him to hasten his travel. When Aldus appeared, he bore grave tidings: the peril was imminent, and Leoric was yet several hours from sanctuary. Concealing Esthela until Leoric could claim her was their only hope for deliverance. Florian would have no authority over the spouse of another knight, irrespective of his inferior status.

"Why do we not present her directly to her intended?" posed Lotha. "Florian would not countenance defying him! He might well slay Leoric to possess her."

"Agreed!" the father exclaimed, hastening from the chamber only to re-emerge with a coffer. "Bestow this upon him. It will unmask his identity forthwith. Don this ring, my child Esthela; it shall serve as a sign of your lineage and afford you protection. I entreat your pardon, my dear. I ought to have acted sooner to spare you this peril."

"Don't worry, Daddy. Hide yourselves, or Florian will harm you," Esthela reassured him.

"Go, Lotha, go! Don't let them capture her. I would rather see you dead before your sister loses her honour! You know the path well. Take her and deliver her to the guardian. They will know what to do, and if possible, stay there too, my son. We will follow after. Remember the name of her fiancé; say it thrice, and the door shall open. Save yourselves, my children, and forgive us for not acting sooner!"

"I swear, Father, nothing will happen!" Lotha assured his father. "As soon as we can, we shall come to meet you or return for you once my sister is safe."

"Very well, my son, but now go quickly."

Having successfully escaped, Esthela found herself alone, seeking solace by the fireplace. Her brothers had yet to appear, and fear gripped her as she recalled the ominous shadow glimpsed earlier. Uncertain of where to find her unknown fiancé, the one who was meant to rescue her, she felt lost and vulnerable.

She spent almost the entire day in the same position, vigilant for any noise or sign that indicated danger. It was the first time in her life that she was completely alone! What should she do now? Wait for her brothers or go in search of them?