Autumn Celebration
Collin knelt, lowering himself to the child’s height.
The little girl beamed as she set a ring of bright, crinkling leaves over his head—red, orange, gold, with one stubborn green.
It smelled like rain-damp bark and a sweetness beneath.
He smiled for her, but his eyes had already moved past, scanning the crowd.
Gray clouds pressed low, but the square pulsed with warmth.
Shoppers bustled through the stalls, arms full of dried fruits, bright ribbons, spice jars, and trinkets that glinted like treasure.
A pot of stew bubbled somewhere nearby, rich with garlic and herbs.
Laughter carried above the din—children darting between legs, couples swaying close to the music.
Collin took it all in with a kind of breathless ease. The world felt generous.
He'd been coming here since boyhood, overwhelmed by it all—the noise, the colors, the sense that something good was happening and everyone knew it.
Even now, years later, that feeling lingered.
The festival had grown over time—small village contests turning into grand traditions: best onion, sweetest jam, fattest hog.
It was silly, really. But also... beautiful.
Proof that the simplicity of life could still be shared. Still be held.
This wasn’t just a day for gods or grain.
It was for music, laughter, catching the eye of someone he hadn’t stopped thinking about.
For brief pockets of beauty where the rest of the world couldn’t reach.
Collin glanced once more toward the far end of the square, heart lifting.
If she showed up in that green scarf, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
Collin tugged at the leafy garland around his neck. No matter how he adjusted it, the dry edges scratched at his skin, insistent and itchy.
Aries thanked the little girl who’d handed them out, but as soon as she turned to offer one to River, he slipped his own off and dropped it back into her basket unnoticed. “What do you want to do first?” he asked, scratching his neck.
“I promised my cousin we’d watch her performance,” River said quickly, joining them.
Collin smiled. It was good to see him like this—lighter somehow.
The wreath around River’s neck set off the paler strands in his hair, and the pointed leaves didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. Living with the builder and his wife, having Nic and Uriah like brothers—it was working.
It showed in the way River stood taller these days, like he had a place again.
Collin moved through the thick of the crowd, letting the noise and music carry his steps. The fair’s energy softened the gloom inside him, fed that quiet anticipation already building in his chest.
“What time does the dance start?” he asked.
River shrugged. “She just said by the clock tower, same as always.”
“We’d better ask someone, then. I’m not standing by the tower all day,” Aries said with a theatrical sigh. “Hadria gave me a whole list of things to pick up.”
A group of young men and women hurried past, leading sleek ponies with braided manes and polished leather reins. Collin watched them go, eyes trailing the way the animals stepped so proudly, like they knew they’d been groomed to impress.
“I want to see the livestock competition,” he said. He kept his tone casual, but his thoughts were already drifting.
“Oh! Me too,” Aries said, voice bright. “We’ve got to cheer on Arion’s entries. Wonder what he brought this year.”
“He probably brought—” River started, but he broke off as a dozen young women trotted into the square.
The girls wore dresses in deep autumn hues—burnt gold, wine red, coppery orange—that shimmered as they moved.
Bells at their wrists chimed with every step.
Braided vines circled their waists like green sashes, and flower crowns rested on their heads, ribbons trailing behind like threads of wind.
They lined up in front of the clock tower as a group of boys scrambled to set up their instruments.
Aries smiled. “Well, that was easy! I guess it’s starting now.”
They pushed toward the front of the growing crowd, drawn by the swell of movement and sound. A guard barked at the gathering to keep back, but no one seemed to hear him.
Collin’s heart ticked faster. This was the part of the festival everyone waited for—the dance in honor of Venus, the goddess of love. Nothing else drew a crowd like this. The swordfights were fine, the plays dramatic, but the Daughters... they were something else entirely.
He scanned the dancers. Dozens auditioned each year, but only a few were chosen—and even fewer lasted. It took more than grace or a pretty face. It took discipline. Resilience.
All around him, girls watched with wide eyes and held breath, imagining themselves up there one day.
Boys leaned in too, half-mesmerized, half-calculating.
They’d act like perfect gentlemen while the music played, but once it ended, the rivalry would spark again—jokes, boasts, looks exchanged like drawn swords.
Collin didn’t care about any of that. He only wanted to see her. Was she here, somewhere in the crowd?
“Pleasant day, gentlemen!” Nic clapped Collin and River each on the shoulders as he stepped between them, his grin wide. His roving eyes quickly scanned the dancers before landing with pride on his pretty girlfriend. “The Daughters of Venus sure look good today!”
Uriah soon joined them, and as they waited for the performance to begin, Lekyi, Clive, and Niall found their way to the front as well, all adorned with their own leafy garlands.
“Has anyone seen Logan? He said he’d meet us,” Niall asked.
“I told him where we’d be,” Clive said, his face bright with excitement as he watched the girls.
Lekyi shifted a crutch to wave at a lovely girl in the row of dancers.
“How’s your leg?” Aries asked.
Lekyi scowled at his crutches. “Still can’t put weight on it, but I can’t wait to be rid of these things. They’re useless.”
"Yeah, they really clash with your whole 'mysterious genius' aesthetic. I was starting to think you'd added them for dramatic effect,” Nic said.
“I was hoping they’d at least win me a little sympathy. Maybe get a few girls to notice me.”
Nic snorted. “Sympathy? Please. If you wanted attention, you should’ve gone with a bandage across the cheek and a haunted stare. Works like a charm. Girls love a good tragedy if it’s well-packaged.”
He gave Lekyi an exaggerated once-over. “Crutches just scream ‘I overestimated the blast radius.’ Trust me—I know from experience.”
Lekyi smirked, adjusting his grip on one of the crutches. “Well, if charm were measured in modesty, you'd be the loneliest man alive.”
“Oh, I’m not modest,” Nic said, flipping his hair with mock pride. “I’m just very, very accomplished at being adored.”
As Nic and Lekyi continued boasting and teasing, Collin noticed one of the dancers staring at him. It was Stella. Her long, fiery red ringlets framed her dazzling expression, and her sharp emerald eyes locked on him.
A ripple of unpleasant heat swept through him. He quickly looked away. Stella’s pursuit of him had become bolder in recent weeks. He didn’t dare reject her too directly, but he was running out of excuses to avoid her invitations.
Niall nodded toward Stella. “Who is she, and why is she smiling at you instead of me?”
Collin snorted, feigning innocence. “No idea, but she’s definitely not my type.”
“Beautiful isn’t your type?” Niall challenged, but just then, the music began and the crowd erupted in cheers.
The young women moved with grace and fluid sensuality.
Their long skirts twisted and spun around their bodies like autumn leaves dancing on the wind.
The bells on their wrists chimed sweetly as they moved in perfect harmony.
The wooden and string instruments accompanied them flawlessly, and beneath the melody lingered the faint rushing echo of a river.
They held their audience captive with their elegant choreography.
In that moment, the Daughters of Venus were the center of the universe.
Collin was watching the dancers, but not really seeing them. The only face in his mind belonged to Dragonfly. She had once been a Daughter of Venus, though her time had been brief. Even so, he’d seen her practice in the glass hall, and she had been breathtaking.
He made himself stay near the clock tower, though every part of him ached to wander the fair in search of her.
A quiet urgency thrummed in his chest, sharp and electric.
Dragonfly was likely helping Arion and his father with the livestock—but it didn’t matter where she was.
The thought of seeing her again left him almost breathless.
For days, he’d been distracted—fumbling tools, forgetting errands, lying awake long after the house had gone still. He missed her. Not just her presence, but her voice, her way of looking at him when no one else was watching.
The sting of her sudden departure had dulled with time, but the need to speak—to finally say what he hadn’t before—burned brighter than ever. If she only knew the truth, if he could just get the words out, she wouldn’t have to be afraid of her own heart.
When the dancing ended, Collin clapped along with the rest of the crowd.
“My girl is absolutely exquisite,” Nic exclaimed, cheering earnestly for Helen.
“I will gladly take full credit for your happy union,” Lekyi bellowed over the noise. “Please express your gratitude with gifts!”
“I love when she moves like that. She’s so—” Nic hollered as he clapped with unrestrained enthusiasm. He whistled sharply, the sound echoing around the square and jolting Collin back to the present.
The dancers filed away, though the musicians remained in the square. The crowd gradually began to break apart.