Hell bound with you

A Familiar Stranger

The next morning, Amelia accompanied her mother to the village market.

The marketplace was alive with energy. Merchants called out to passing customers, advertising their finest goods, while colorful fabrics, fresh produce, and handcrafted trinkets filled the wooden stalls.

The warm aroma of freshly baked bread drifted through the air, mingling with the rich scent of spices and the faint smell of damp cloth from the nearby tailor’s shop.

The tailor’s shop was the busiest place in the market.

Ever since the royal invitation had arrived, nearly every family in the kingdom had been preparing for the grand ball. Women crowded inside, sorting through bolts of silk, velvet, and lace. Young girls admired shimmering gowns, their eyes sparkling as they imagined themselves dancing beneath glittering chandeliers.

The room echoed with laughter, excited chatter, and the constant sound of bargaining as mothers negotiated prices, determined to make their daughters look beautiful for the special occasion. Even those of modest means longed to feel extraordinary, if only for a single evening.

Amelia watched quietly as her mother browsed through the dresses.

After a while, Alexis picked up a graceful beige-and-black gown and held it against Amelia.

“This one would suit you perfectly,” she said with a gentle smile.

Amelia looked at the dress, her fingers brushing over its soft fabric.

“It’s beautiful, Mama,” she whispered.

But both of them knew they couldn’t afford it.

Alexis remained silent for a moment before carefully placing the gown back. Instead, she chose a simpler dress for herself and sighed softly as she calculated the cost in her head.

Finally, she turned to Amelia.

“It will be useless for us later, so we’ll rent them,” she said.

Amelia nodded without complaint.

Her family wasn’t wealthy. Every coin had to be spent carefully, and buying elegant gowns for a single evening was simply impossible.

Still, her mother wanted her daughter to look beautiful.

The thought made Amelia’s chest tighten.

Even renting the dresses would place a burden on their household, yet her mother never hesitated. It wasn’t about appearances. It was a mother’s quiet determination to give her daughter a moment of happiness, even if it demanded sacrifice.

After leaving the tailor’s shop, they stopped at several other stalls.

Alexis purchased a few necessities for Amelia’s father and younger brother, bargaining patiently with the vendors until she managed to save a few extra coins.

As they made their way through the bustling marketplace, Amelia suddenly paused.

A familiar face caught her attention.

Near a small jewelry stall stood Lucy and her mother.

Lucy looked radiant. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement, and her bright eyes reflected the anticipation surrounding the upcoming ball.

The moment she spotted Amelia, her face lit up.

She waved enthusiastically, her cheerful smile making Amelia smile in return.

Turning to her mother, Amelia asked hesitantly,

“Mama… Lucy is here. May I spend a little time with her? I’ll come home with her later.”

Alexis followed Amelia’s gaze.

Lucy immediately offered a polite wave and smiled.

Alexis smiled back before looking at her daughter.

“Alright,” she said. “But don’t stay out too long. We still have chores waiting for us at home.”

“Thank you, Mama!”

Amelia’s face brightened. She handed the shopping bag back to her mother before hurrying toward Lucy with eager steps.

The two girls soon wandered away from the busiest part of the market.

Lucy glanced at Amelia with a grin.

“Did you come to buy a dress for the ball?”

Amelia nodded.

“Yes. Though I think my mother is more excited than I am. She refuses to let me miss it.”

Lucy laughed.

“Of course she is! It’s going to be magical. I can’t wait to see the prince. Have you heard everyone talking about him? They say he’s incredibly handsome… and kind too.”

Amelia chuckled and gently nudged her friend.

“You and your prince. Why are you so obsessed with someone you’ve never even met? He doesn’t even know you exist.”

Lucy gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart.

“How could you say something so heartless?” she exclaimed before giving Amelia a playful shove. “You’re impossible!”

Amelia laughed.

“Maybe. But at least I’m not creating fairy tales about a stranger.”

She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“What if your handsome prince turns out to be a frog?”

Lucy stared at her for a heartbeat before both girls burst into laughter.

Their laughter echoed through the narrow lane as they continued walking side by side.

⸻

Instead of heading home, Lucy and Amelia slipped away to their secret hiding place—a small shelter nestled high in the mountains, hidden among towering pine trees. The cool air carried the scent of pine needles as they followed the familiar path.

Just before reaching the final slope, Lucy’s foot caught on a jagged rock buried beneath the snow.

She stumbled forward with a startled yelp and landed with a soft thud.

“Ow…”

Amelia turned around and burst into laughter.

“Oh my God, Lucy! It’s always you!”

Still laughing, she reached out and offered her hand.

Lucy grabbed it and stood, brushing the snow from her dress.

“I swear, if there’s a rock anywhere nearby, it’ll find me. Why does this always happen to me?”

Amelia grinned.

“Some things never change.”

Their laughter gradually faded, leaving only the rustling of pine branches and the distant call of a bird.

Lucy glanced toward the forest.

“Hey… do you remember that boy?”

Amelia frowned.

“What boy?”

“Ivar! The one who used to watch us from behind the trees. Sometimes he’d play with us. He said he lived in these woods.”

“Oh… him,” Amelia murmured.

She fell silent, her thoughts lingering on their unexpected meeting. After a brief pause, she decided there was no reason to keep it to herself.

She shrugged.

“I saw him a few days ago in the forest while I was collecting herbs. He said he’d come back.”

Lucy’s eyes brightened.

“Really? Where does he live now?”

Amelia shook her head.

“I don’t know. I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

Lucy frowned.

“How rude.”

Amelia smiled.

“I almost forgot he existed. It’s been years since we last saw him.”

The conversation gradually faded as they continued toward the shelter.

⸻

On the day of the grand ball, Amelia’s father, Mr. Eric Risberg, managed to borrow Mr. Haraldson’s horse-drawn carriage, a gesture that spoke volumes about his love for his daughter.

Alexis, Amelia’s mother, had poured her heart into preparing her for the evening. Every detail—from the way Amelia’s hair was pinned to the delicate folds of her dress—was perfect.

Amelia didn’t need embellishments to be beautiful; her natural charm shone brightly on its own. Yet the beige dress Alexis had chosen enhanced her grace, making her look every bit a nobleman’s daughter.

As Amelia stepped out of their modest home and walked toward the carriage, her father froze. His expression shifted from pride to quiet disbelief.

“When did my little Amy grow up so much?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

He extended his hand to help her into the carriage, his eyes softening as he added,

“You look beautiful, Amy.”

Amelia’s cheeks flushed as a shy smile spread across her face.

“Thank you, Papa,” she said.

As she settled into the carriage, her eyes fell upon the young coachman holding the reins.

She could feel his eyes on her.

But the instant Amelia turned to meet his gaze, he turned away so quickly that all she saw was his back.

Amelia blinked, unsure what to make of it.

The castle was a good three-hour journey away, and Amelia had never ventured beyond the confines of her quaint village. Occasionally, she and her brother had visited their aunt in a neighboring hamlet, but this was her first journey to a bustling town.

Excitement and nervousness churned inside her as she peered out the carriage window, watching the scenery gradually change.

As the carriage rolled closer to town, the sights left her wide-eyed. Cobblestone streets bustled with life, while towering buildings rose on either side, their grandeur unlike anything she had ever seen.

“Everything looks so different here,” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

Her mother, seated beside her, adjusted her gloves before nodding.

“It is different,” Alexis replied.

Then, turning to Amelia with a firm expression, she continued,

“And you must remember to act accordingly. Make sure your gestures are delicate and polite. Smile when appropriate, but don’t laugh too loudly. Speak only when necessary, and, for heaven’s sake, don’t talk too much. Do you understand me?”

Amelia’s heart sank at her mother’s words. She had always been a free spirit, untouched by the rigid expectations of polite society. Yet tonight, it seemed her mother was determined to mold her into someone she wasn’t.

“Yes, Mama,” Amelia replied.

Alexis studied her daughter, searching for even the slightest hint of rebellion. Instead, Amelia turned back toward the window, absentmindedly tracing the edge of her gown with her fingers.

Deep down, a quiet unease settled in her chest. She had never been one for pretense, and tonight, the weight of expectation already threatened to suffocate her.

The rest of the journey passed in silence, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels against the road. Amelia watched as the town’s lights grew brighter with every passing mile until the magnificent castle finally came into view.

At last, the carriage rolled to a stop, its wheels crunching over the gravel of the grand castle’s driveway.

The coachman climbed down and opened the carriage door with practiced ease.

Amelia’s father stepped out first, his boots landing firmly on the ground. He straightened his coat with composed, deliberate movements.

Her brother followed, hopping down with youthful enthusiasm, his lively energy a sharp contrast to their father’s measured demeanor.

The coachman then turned toward Amelia’s mother. Bowing his head, he offered her his hand and helped her descend gracefully. Her gown flowed elegantly around her as she stepped onto the gravel, every movement poised and refined, perfectly suited to the grandeur of the castle before them.

Finally, it was Amelia’s turn.

The coachman extended his hand toward her.

As she placed her gloved hand in his, their eyes met.

His gaze was intense—unblinking, sharp, and unmistakably familiar.

“Ivar!” she whispered. “Why are you here?”

Ivar was about to answer, but—

“Amelia, what are you doing? Get down!” her mother’s voice rang out, cutting him off before he could speak.

Startled, Amelia quickly stepped down from the carriage, her hand slipping from the coachman’s grasp.

As she hurried toward her family, she couldn’t resist glancing back at him one last time.

This time, she noticed the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips—a knowing smile that sent a shiver racing down her spine.

That boy has changed… He’s grown into a man, and undeniably a handsome one. Yet somehow, whatever strangeness he carried as a boy had only deepened with age.

Uneasy, she quickened her pace and moved to her mother’s side.

The castle loomed above them, its towering walls casting long shadows across the driveway as they made their way toward the grand entrance.