In Love and War: The Story of Pride.
Our story begins with a young couple very much in love – a humble entrepreneur who was just starting to make his way in the world, and the beautiful, intelligent, headstrong daughter from a well-off militant family. While seeming to be from very different worlds, the spark between them was the envy of all young folk in town. The entrepreneur would begin each morning the same: standing beside the gates to her home, whistling a sweet and lively tune, their favorite song, like the chirping of a love bird. Then the beautiful girl’s face would appear in her window, glancing down at him with a shy smile that curled just barely at the tips.
Her family was very strict about appearances, and normally, as per her family’s requirements, she was to be dressed in a plain, yet practical navy uniform and boots, her hair tucked neatly away in a tight bun. However, on days such as this, when she knew her father was away on business, she’d fish out one of her rare, flowing summer dresses instead, one of those that playfully revealed her pale, smooth shoulders, and let her hair cascade down over them in a fashion that would make her mother gasp and cry indecency. But this was the fashion that was all the rage with the young girls in town. She would carefully and quietly sneak passed her mother’s room and through the door in the kitchen as the maids would giggle and wave, promising again to keep her secret.
Restraining the bubbly excitement of love that was always threatening to burst out of her, she would slide through the gates and lace her fingers through his, dragging him along with her down the path and into the safe cover of the busy streets, where they might finally be able to walk hand-in-hand down the street lined with quaint shops.
On some of the nicer days, when the sun’s rays were warm on the skin and there was a pleasant breeze that playfully lifted her fair, honey-colored hair up into the air, they may sneak away into a corner, out of sight, and share a tender kiss. It would always begin soft and sweet, and then increase in passion as he would wrap his arms around her waist and pull her closer against him. Sometimes he would push for more, his hands beginning to wander, but always she would stop him with a single finger on his lips and a firm push away. His eyes lingered hungrily on her figure but always he accepted her boundary. She and her family were traditional – marriage had to come first – but he was well on his way in his plans to overcome that obstacle.
However, on the intended, fated morning when he stood at her gate whistling their song, a small red box ornately decorated with golden swirls in his hands, he realized that her beautiful face did not come to greet him at the window. Maybe she hadn’t heard him? He tried again, louder this time, but still she did not come. He began his song a third time, even louder, when suddenly a young maid rushed out from the side of the house from where he’d normally seen his love come for him. The cautious and frenzied maid quickly came to meet him at the gate, her finger pressed sternly against her lips.
“I’m sorry, the Misses isn’t here.” The maid reached her frail hand through the bars of the gates and passed a thin, cream colored envelope to him.
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he accepted the letter and asked quietly, “Why, where would she be so early in the morning?”
The maid pouted and looked at him with an expression of sympathy as she replied, “I’m sorry. The Master has taken his daughter with him on the call the war. The Misses won’t be back for several months. She left that for you. Now – you must go, before the Mistress catches you dallying at our gate!”
The maid shooed him away, down the path until he was finally out of sight of the house. Distraught and confused, he quickly tore open the letter left for him by his love:
“My Dearest Love,
I am sorry to have to leave you so suddenly this way, but in my heart I always knew this day would come. My father has trained me for this since the day I could walk, and so that I would need to stand by his side in dutiful battle was always whispering earnestly in my ear. I will miss our mornings, waking up to your beautiful song and warm embrace – but I must put them aside for now, as those thoughts may only weaken me in the cold exchange of war. I pray I may return to you and be still the same woman you have come to love so that we may be together for the rest of our days. Will you pray for me as well?
With all my heart.
Your canary."
The lover, while anguished, would not be so easily heartbroken as he clung to the words of her letter. Be together for the rest of our days. She had said. Wait for me. He had read. And wait he would.
~*~*~*~*~
No letters came. No telegrams. Nothing to tell him of his canary, of her health or happiness, of her adventure or struggles. Nothing to tell him even whether she was alive or dead. But still, he clung onto the words in her only letter and knew in his heart that she would return. Eight months passed, and a letter arrived in his mailbox from his canary’s residence. He tore it open with the same desperate fervor as her last letter. To his surprise, it wasn’t from his love, but from one of her maids. It informed him that the Master of the house and his daughter had returned from war a few weeks prior and that it was recommended that he not visit the manor. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. If his love had returned, why had she not reached out to him? And why would a maid write to him only to suggest that he keep away? Surely something was amiss.
With a sense of urgency, he slipped the red, decorated box into the pocket of his jacket and left for the manor. When he arrived at the gate, he looked up at her window and whistled their song. It took longer than usual, but finally the curtains pulled back a bit to reveal a familiar, yet at the same time entirely foreign face. It was the same clear blue eyes, the same cute, petite nose… but her face seemed thinner, harsher, and her expression even as she looked down and met his eyes was solemn and glum. She stared down at him as he finished his song, then after some hesitation she pulled away from the window and disappeared.
He stood anxiously at her gate as the minutes seemed to stretch on. Was she coming to meet him? Surely she was. Surely she would not leave him standing alone at her gate. Surely she’d want to run to him and tell him all about her time away? About how much she’d missed him? After nearly too long, finally a figure emerged from the side of the house and began to make its way down the path to the gate. He breathed a sigh of relief - it was his canary. She was coming to meet him.
Her hair was tied up tightly in a bun, her soft and feminine figure hidden underneath the drabs of a military uniform. The sounds of the pebbles that lined the way crunched underneath her thick black boots. As she came close, he smiled and slid his hand through the bars to reach for her. She stared blankly at his outstretched hand for a moment, before reaching out her own and taking it with a sad smile.
“My love, I have waited such long months to finally hear news of you, to see you again. Why did you not find me or send note to me upon your return?” He said to her, relief and concern painting his voice.
He could tell she was stifling a sigh as she replied, “War took a great toll on me. I am not the woman who could sneak out in summer dresses and steal kisses in the corner of the marketplace. Not anymore.”
The man let out a nervous laugh and shook his head as he gripped tighter onto her hand, “Did you think I would run away if I knew war had changed you? You will always be my dearest love. War was a part of your life, and now it’s over and whatever pieces of you were chipped away by harsh steel, we can forge again, together. You love me still, yes?”
She looked back at him, expression a strange mix of discomfort and sympathy. “Yes-” She began, although her voice wavered and her tone was full of uncertainty.
“Then-” he interrupted her as his hand rummaged in his pocket for the red box and he lowered himself down on one knee while still gripping her hand in his. “Then- let us be together for the rest of our lives, just as you said in your letter. I’ve wanted to ask you since the morning you vanished from my side. Marry me, my beautiful canary!” He flipped the beautiful box open with one hand and revealed a gorgeous, glistening diamond ring underneath.
There was a long silence as a kaleidoscope of emotions played across her face. It was difficult to make out what she was feeling, but whatever it was, it was clear it was not the happy elation of love that he had been expecting. Finally, she let out a strangled sigh and pulled her hand away from his. “You spent your entire savings on this ring.” She wasn’t asking, she could tell just by looking at it.
“Well- yes, but that’s not-”
She shook her head and interrupted him, “That was stupid of you. Go back and sell it. I’ll have no use of it.”
Now it was his turn to stare blankly back at her, not absorbing the full weight of her words. She continued, “War is not done with me yet. And I am not done with war. They have made me an offer, they want to promote me and I-” She struggled to find the right words, “I am going to accept. Do you understand what that means?”
He did not understand. He sat there, frozen on one knee with the box in one hand and his other still outstretched towards her.
With a frustrated sigh, she said again, “I am not made for summer days and stolen kisses, or love and marriage. War will always keep me away from such things. It is rare that a woman be given such an offer, and for the pride of my family, myself, and women everywhere, I must accept. Do you understand?”
The man slowly rose to his feet, pulling his hand back through the bars of the gate. “You will choose a life of war, a military position, over a life of love and happiness with me?” He was vocalizing his skepticism of her meaning aloud, his eyes searching her face, hoping that he had misunderstood her.
But he had not. She straightened her back and replied, “Do not return here again. Even if I am here, I will not come to see you. I believe you will find that life of love and happiness you seek, but it will not be with me.” Without another glance at him, she turned on her heel and walked briskly back the way she came until she disappeared once again into the manor.
Only after she was completely out of sight did he snap shut the red box and slide it back into his pocket. He, too, turned on his heel and walked briskly back the way he’d come, each raging step filling his body with heat until his eyes flashed with the fires of fury - A fire that would spread and come to swallow more people than his canary would know.
To be continued…
Next Segment: Collateral Damage: The Story of Lust and Sloth
