The forgotten

beautiful beginning

"My lady, your parents are waiting downstairs." It was Hugo, his voice a gentle rumble that barely penetrated Elowen's reverie. Father must have sent him, no doubt with a thinly veiled warning about tardiness.

Elowen suppressed a sigh. She knew she was late, but she couldn't bring herself to care. This was no ordinary party; it was the birthday banquet of Mr. Oliver, a close friend and business partner of Mr. Sinclair. An event of considerable importance, no doubt, yet Elowen had been relishing the exquisite agony of anticipation, taking her time with every detail of her elaborate attire.

A thrill of excitement coursed through her as she finally deemed herself ready. With a radiant smile illuminating her face, Elowen burst from her room, her footsteps light and eager. This was it – her first birthday banquet!

As she hurried down the grand staircase, Hugo's voice echoed behind her, laced with a familiar concern. "Mind your steps, my lady, lest you take a tumble."

The drive to the birthday banquet was unusually quiet, a stark contrast to Elowen's bubbling excitement. Mrs. Elise, ever observant, noticed her daughter's barely contained energy. "Elowen," she said gently, her voice a soothing balm, "please stay close to me throughout the banquet. And remember, no running."

Elowen beamed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I will, Mother! I'll be extra careful, and I'll stick to you like a gum." She giggled, picturing herself glued to her mother's side.

Mr. Sinclair chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I wish you could stay with Lydia, instead. She misses you."

Elowen's smile softened, a touch of guilt tugging at her heart. She loved Lydia dearly, her younger sister, but she wouldn't miss this banquet. "I know, Father, but I'm fifteen now, and you both promised I could come with you." She paused, a wistful expression on her face. Well, that was partly true. While she did want to experience the grandeur of the banquet, her primary motivation was to see Marcus, her childhood friend. A flutter of butterflies danced in her stomach.

Everything was breathtakingly beautiful, a dazzling display of wealth and opulence. They must have spent a fortune on this, Elowen mused, her eyes wide with wonder. She glanced around, searching for her mother, eventually spotting her a short distance away, engaged in an animated conversation with a friend.

Feeling a bit lost in the crowd, Elowen quietly took a seat, her mind drifting to thoughts of Marcus. A sigh escaped her lips. Perhaps he wasn't here after all. Disappointment pricked at her, a sharp contrast to the earlier excitement.

Restlessly, she rose and ventured outside, seeking refuge in the tranquil garden. Maybe I should have just stayed home with Lydia, she thought, her steps faltering. No wonder Father was hesitant about me coming.

"Hey, you finally made it!"

The familiar voice sent a jolt of warmth through her, and her heart skipped a beat. It was Marcus! A radiant smile bloomed on her face.

"Of course," she replied, her voice light and teasing. "I told you I would be here."

Marcus's eyes sparkled as he took in her appearance, a genuine admiration in his gaze. "You look stunning, Elowen."

A blush crept up her cheeks, and she averted her eyes shyly. "Thank you, Marcus."

They chatted about the party, their laughter mingling with the gentle rustling of leaves. It was, indeed, a wonderful night after all, made all the more special by his presence.

Marcus was two years her senior, but their age difference seemed insignificant in the face of their deep connection. They had shared a remarkable bond, their friendship stretching back as far as she could remember, woven with shared secrets, laughter, and unwavering support.