The Carnations in Your Hair

      ‘I’m all right… I’m right behind ya,’ his breathing was troubled though he still spoke outright lies. He undoubtedly knew that his suffering would soon have ceased.       Forcing his wounded body, he managed to lift up the iron gates and help Amicia and Hugo escape.       But to hold onto the gate Rodric could no more. Pierced by arrows, he could barely stand on his feet. Each new following breath was giving him pain. And until this moment he carried on only because he had to endure. .       To ensure she would survive… to live on.       Rodric let the gate slip from his grasp.       ‘No!’ Amicia’s cry cut through the haze of his fading consciousness as he collapsed to his knees, barely clinging to the thin thread of awareness keeping him from succumbing to endless blackness. The sound of his fall echoed in Amicia’s mind, freezing her in place. It was a sound she would never forget—a moment where everything ended.       ‘I’m sorry...’ he murmured, his gaze meeting Hugo’s sorrowful eyes. The boy’s small hand gripped his with a strength that belied his age. In those final moments, Rodric thought Hugo seemed far older than anyone in their group, bearing the weight of countless years despite his youth. He pitied him—not just for the hardships endured but for the ones yet to come. ‘I’m sorry…’       The others scrambled, shouting, pleading, and attempting to lift the gate, but Rodric knew it was over. His body grew heavier; the arrows lodged in his flesh seared with agony. Every breath was a battle, each one more laboured than the last. Though he yearned to scream, exhaustion muted his voice to clenched teeth and pained grimaces. Gradually, the pain began to recede, replaced by a numbing weakness. His body no longer felt like his own.       ‘Amicia…’ The name lingered in his thoughts as he slumped forward, unable to fight any longer. Amicia stared in horror. Her heart was shredded by unbearable grief, yet she fought the tears welling in her eyes. She had to stay strong. First Arthur, and now Rodric—both had sacrificed themselves so that their journey might end in success, so Hugo might live. But as she looked upon Rodric’s lifeless body, she could no longer summon the strength to fight or even desire to continue. How could she? This loss was too much to bear.       ‘Hugo… let’s go. We must keep moving,’ she said gently, forcing herself to steady her trembling voice. She pulled her brother along, though it took a firm effort to pry him from Rodric’s lifeless grip. Hugo looked utterly lost, his small frame heavy with silent grief that Amicia could feel radiating from him. Rodric had been his hero. She clutched Hugo tightly and carried him forward. Every step was a torment, her mind spiralling with unanswered questions and bitter regrets.       ‘Why, Rodric? Why did you hesitate? Why did you sacrifice yourself?’ she lamented silently, her thoughts a storm of anger and despair. ‘Why trade your life for Hugo’s… for mine? Why couldn’t we find another way—one where we all survived?’       Her fists clenched tighter. She had sensed, from the very beginning, that Rodric had pushed her aside for a reason. Now she understood. He had known—he had always known—that either he would fall, or she and Hugo would. He had made his choice.       ‘Fool! Fool!’ she cursed him inwardly, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to escape. The storm of anguish raging in her chest refused to quiet; it only grew fiercer. She barely registered Millie’s furious protests and outbursts behind her. Amicia was too numb to care. What had they done to deserve such merciless fate? Yet, while Millie could only vent her anger, Amicia bore a pain far deeper, far heavier. Still, she forced herself to remain composed, her voice steady and resolute as she turned to Millie.       ‘What matters most is staying alive and sticking together. That’s why Rodric and Arthur gave their lives for us!’ she snapped, though the words had lost their meaning to her. She repeated them more out of habit than belief. Moving forward was all that mattered now, even if her strength had long since drained away. She let Millie and Lucas talk amongst themselves while she locked her sorrow deep within, refusing to let it surface.       ‘Rodric…’ Hugo’s quiet sobs broke through Amicia’s thoughts.       ‘He’s gone, Hugo… He’s at peace now,’ she said softly, averting her gaze as her composure wavered. She fought the urge to run back to the gate, to stay there forever, or to try once more to lift it. Better to embrace death than endure this torment.       But her burden was to keep fighting.

***

      When it was all over, Amicia tried to stop thinking about Rodric but found it impossible. She busied herself with caring for Hugo, hoping to lose herself in routine and start anew. Yet, every so often, her mind would wander back…       To his smile.       Rodric had won her admiration with his unwavering strength and courage. From the moment they fled the soldiers together, she had felt safe with him. For so long, she had borne the weight of protecting Hugo and Lucas alone, always stepping forward to take the brunt of every blow. But Rodric had changed that. For the first time, someone else had taken her burden, shoved her aside, and said—so brazenly—‘I’ll do it.’ It was strange and unfamiliar, and she had fought to take it back, but he had only laughed.       He had laughed as he protected her, snapping soldiers’ necks and shouldering every heavy load. He had laughed when he told her to save her strength, pretending it didn’t cost him anything. In his own way, he had cared for her as her father once had. After her father’s death, she thought she would never again feel the comfort of being shielded by someone else.       To his laugh.       Grubby, clumsy, and endearing, he had been far more mature than his years yet light-hearted enough to make everything seem easier. Being around him felt natural, as if they had known each other forever. From the very start, he had treated her with respect and kindness. Noble and selfless to his core, it seemed inevitable that he would give his life for others. And he had.       Now, as Amicia packed Hugo’s belongings for their journey with Lucas to safer lands, her heart tightened. Her hands fell to her sides, trembling as she struggled to bury the grief once more. But this time, she couldn’t stop the tears. She covered her face with her hands and wept. He was gone…       Gone!..       Rodric had been a true knight, like those who pledged their lives to kings. And, for a fleeting moment, she had believed… she had believed he was her knight. And she—his lady. She had believed it with all her heart.       He had been close.       Rodric had loved Hugo, and Hugo had adored him. Together, they had felt like a family. Even Millie, with her sharp tongue, had joked about them forgetting the miner when they fled the castle. But he had found them.       Only to be lost again…?       Amicia couldn’t bring herself to move or even think until night fell and exhaustion claimed her.       She drifted to sleep, the memories of their escape replaying vividly in her dreams.       She saw Rodric hauling the gate, shielding them from the arrows as she ran with Hugo in tow. His heavy breaths, the pounding of her own heart, and the desperate grip of Hugo’s tiny hand—all of it came rushing back.       ‘Hurry, hurry, hurry!’       They had fought off soldiers, smashing their skulls with slingshot stones, driven by nothing but the will to survive.       Hugo’s grip tightened.       ‘He’s hit!’ Hugo’s frightened cry shattered her focus, and her heart clenched.       ‘Rodric!’ she had screamed, turning to see him pierced with arrows. ‘Rodric!’       His name echoed through her mind, growing more desperate with each repetition, until darkness consumed everything once more.       She awoke in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, her sobs muffled by her hands so as not to wake Hugo. The pain was sharper than it had been at the gate, for then, she had a purpose—a goal to focus on. Now, there was nothing to distract her from the suffocating grief.       Forcing herself to sleep again, she carried the weight of her sorrow into the dawn.

***

      Hugo woke her as sunlight streamed into the empty house they had taken shelter in. The previous occupants had succumbed to the plague, but Amicia knew they couldn’t linger long.       Today, they would leave with Lucas and their mother on a long journey to find safety. Time was slipping through their fingers, and Amicia couldn’t afford to let it go. She immediately instructed       Hugo to wash, brush his hair, and prepare for breakfast, her tone firm despite the ache in her heart.       Hugo nodded obediently, but...       Hugo nodded obediently, hugged his sister, and promised that he would never let down their mother, who was waiting for him.       'Finally, we can be together all the time!' Hugo exclaimed, jumping up and down, and Amicia laughed joyfully, watching her brother’s excitement. But suddenly, Hugo stopped, his expression changed, and the smile was replaced by concern and fear.       'Amicia... Mum will get better, won’t she?'       His innocent eyes gazed at her, full of sadness and worry.       Amicia felt a pang inside. They had been through so much, yet they still had to cry and feel sorrow, as if the past had been insufficient. No. She couldn’t give in to despair. And that applied to her too. After tonight, she had planned to remain gloomy for a long while, but seeing Hugo and knowing that her sorrow would only make things worse for him, she pulled herself together.       'Of course, everything will be fine,' she reassured him with a forced smile, leaning down to look him in the eyes. Her hand gently rested on his shoulder. His uncertain, disbelieving gaze, full of anticipation for more bad news, met hers.       'Hugo. Remember? You need to be strong. And Mum will definitely... definitely get better! Come on, Hugo. You don’t want me to be the first to see Lucas and Mum today, do you?' she said playfully, smiling widely, truly this time, and began to tickle him. Hugo laughed loudly, weakly trying to fight her off, and when she saw him return to himself, Amicia stopped.       'Come on. Go, Hugo, go. Time won’t wait for us.'       Her brother nodded, now much more confident, and with renewed energy, ran downstairs to wash up.       Amicia watched him leave and then sighed. No matter how much she tried to convince herself to stay strong, that hole inside, which had been growing uncontrollably lately, wouldn’t let her be at peace. And once again, as soon as Hugo disappeared from sight and she was left alone, she began to see the image of the limp Rodric.       A shiver ran through her.       'Rodric,' her lips whispered as she squeezed her eyes shut.       Amicia tried to steady herself, to silence the cry that was rising from within. She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and clenched her fists tightly. She had to stay strong. There was no time for this now.       She couldn’t give in to despair. Amicia began to prepare herself.       If she had to describe the house where they had found shelter, she would first say it was empty. The recent death of the owner had left its mark on the place, and it seemed to have faded. Perhaps it had once brought comfort, but now it felt repellent. They hadn’t stayed long, but every day they found themselves thinking more and more about leaving as soon as possible. A modest two-story house, with a crooked, broken door and cold stone walls. It was eerily quiet and oppressive. A lone table with five chairs on the first floor and a fireplace with a cauldron, and upstairs, the long-worn straw bundles stuffed into cloth sacks — that was the entire bed. The ceilings were low, and the two rooms, which formed two spaces, were narrow. But they had nowhere else to go, especially since everyone who saw them would cross themselves, probably wondering whether to throw these two leprous children into the well.       The atmosphere was growing more tense, so Amicia was very glad that it was time to leave.       She picked up her bag from the floor, checked for any holes, but it still amazed her with its durability: everything was fine. Then she pulled out the clean clothes for Hugo that she had hidden under the straw, clothes that had once belonged to a child who lived here, and folded them with her things. Now Amicia could change Hugo’s clothes every three days to help him feel better.       Mum would definitely be happy about that.       Amicia sighed. Even though she couldn’t always spend time with her mother, Amicia no longer had any family left except for her mother and Hugo. Yes, sometimes it felt as though they were strangers to each other, but their blood ran in the same veins. They were family. And Amicia had sworn to herself to do everything she could to keep her family alive. They would overcome it all.       The preparations were done. Amicia checked her slingshot one last time, secured her bag at her waist, and went downstairs. Hugo, barely washed, had been distracted by a butterfly that had flown in through a crack in the door and was running after it, laughing loudly. Amicia couldn’t stop smiling.       'Amicia, look! What a beautiful butterfly!' he exclaimed, trying to catch the elusive insect.       'Be careful, Hugo! It’s very fragile,' she called to him, a little worried. 'It’s a very good sign. Don’t hurt it.'       At hearing this, Hugo froze just before he was about to catch the tired butterfly. He turned back to look at his sister, startled.       'Amicia, I didn’t mean to!' he said, almost ready to cry, his face clearly showing that he was afraid of being the cause of more trouble.       Amicia placed her hands on her hips and shook her head slightly. But seeing her brother’s distress, she couldn’t do anything but smile, softening.       'It’s fine, Hugo. You didn’t do anything. Don’t worry,' she said, and when he ran up and hugged her tightly, she ruffled his hair. 'Everything’s fine. We’ll eat now, and I’ll finish my business, and then you can go out and play. Just don’t go too far.'       'I won’t, don’t worry,' Hugo mumbled, now calm, burying his little face in his sister’s clothes. When he let her go, Amicia walked over to the fireplace, lifted the lid off the cauldron hanging above it, and peered inside. There were five small bread rolls — the best they had been able to beg from the local baker.       They couldn’t eat too much, but if they started to go hungry, Hugo wouldn’t be able to endure it — he was just a child. So she decided: she would give him one and a half rolls now, and keep half for herself. And they still needed to beg for some more food for the journey, to take with them to meet Lucas. Maybe someone would give them something, especially if they heard that they were finally leaving.       Amicia took out the rolls, divided one, and handed Hugo his share — they hadn’t found any plates — one and a half rolls. She then walked to the end of the small wooden table and sat down opposite him.       She sat down to eat, and Hugo had already stuffed his share into his mouth and quickly chewed it. Amicia clicked her tongue in disapproval.       'Hugo!' she exclaimed, especially irritated. 'You have to eat slowly, or you’ll just get hungry again.'       'Phlright,' he mumbled with his mouth full, already jumping up from the table.       What could she do? He had only one thing on his mind — the game he had mentioned earlier, and it was now consuming his thoughts.       He ran over to the bolt and began lifting it when Amicia called after him:       'Remember, you promised not to leave.'       'I promise, I promise!' Hugo shouted and ran out, slamming the fragile door behind him.       Amicia sighed again, particularly deeply. She needed to be everything for her brother. And she still wasn’t sure if she was doing it well. All the sharp changes had happened a long time ago, and she had already seemed to accept them, but sometimes she still felt a deep longing for the old times, when the world hadn’t yet been overrun by rats.       'But then I wouldn’t have met Rodric,' she thought, deciding that she didn’t want to be in such a world, and immediately stopped herself, 'But he’s not in this world either.'       A pang shot through her chest. She thought about Rodric again, even though she had promised herself to leave it all behind and just move forward. Tears betrayed her, welling up in her eyes, wanting to bring out all the suffering and let it pour out, but Amicia slammed her fist on the table. That gesture was something Rodric had inherited from his father. She held back the tears, forcing herself to endure.       'No. He’d definitely tell me I need to be strong. Tears won’t bring him back,' she muttered harshly, wiping her eyes with her palms and regaining her composure.       She immediately began eating, taking small bites and chewing slowly to trick her stomach and resist the temptation to take more. But as she chewed, her mind once again quietly pulled her toward the past.

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      It was a dark evening in the castle, a month after Rodric had joined them.       The moon was not full, and the clouds frequently covered the sky, hiding the stars. It was cool, so sleep wouldn’t come. Although, that was hardly true, because, besides that, Amicia’s head was full of thoughts, and she couldn’t shake them. And the thoughts were the most shameful ones, according to Amicia.       That day, she realised, like a silly child, that she had fallen in love with Rodric. She liked his character, and he himself, being near her, brought her laughter and peace. With him, she forgot the horrors that had happened and the suffocating sense of an inevitable dark fate.       But her thoughts seemed to betray her, pulling her closer to him, yet she couldn’t take that step. What had kept her from confessing? Was it fear of rejection? Or was it something else?       'It seems the rats brought us together in vain, we are undoubtedly the best team. The lords shall not dine with us. How unfortunate... for them,' said Rodric, and they laughed, playfully exchanging curtsies, saying: 'My lady, my lord.' They walked back together. They were only a few steps from the staircase when Rodric overtook Amicia. Suddenly, with a firm grip, he took her by the waist, drew her to him, and lifted her upwards. Amicia blushed, her heart raced, and she froze.       'What's the matter? Have your arms gone numb?' came Rodric's laugh, and Amicia grew angry. Muttering something unintelligible, even to herself, she grabbed the edge and hoisted herself up. Rodric, however, took two steps and ascended the stairs, which made Amicia give him a questioning look. Rodric smirked.       'Well, you love climbing, so why bother using stairs like the common folk?'       'Fool!' thought Amicia. He ascended leisurely, and she did not leave, even though Rodric had given her a head start to reach the bedroom first. Something held her back. She waited. He reached the top, and together, they walked silently, each lost in their thoughts, without exchanging a single word, towards the door leading inside.       It was as though both had learned something about themselves—something new and hidden—and either they did not want to acknowledge it, or were waiting for the right moment to ask one another, 'Do you feel it too?'       They both reached the door at the same time, though Rodric usually walked slower, and Amicia always tried to be the first. But now he had grown more confident, and she did not hurry. Their gazes briefly met: Rodric looked serious, and his eyes seemed to say that it was not all by chance.       A slight tremor stirred inside her, and her ears burned. She suddenly realized she was nervous—she could barely breathe. It was a new sensation.       They stopped at the door. They both reached for the handle, and his palm rested on hers. For Amicia, this was something unexplored, unfamiliar: daughters of noble families rarely saw boys (let alone held their hands). In those books about knights and their chosen ones, romance was described, but it had always seemed too boring, and so, if she read them, it was only in passing.       She had no idea how people fell in love or what happened after that. Her mother and father were examples of marriage for duty, not romance: her mother lived for the children, and her father—for the people.       Now, feeling defeated and uncertain, she wanted to flee: she did not like being helpless.       They looked into each other's eyes again, and Amicia, embarrassed, strangely did not want Rodric to joke, to say something silly, or to ruffle her hair. She was waiting for something from him — though she didn’t even know what. Her thoughts raced, but feelings... feelings demanded something she could not quite grasp.       But Rodric did not smile, did not joke, did not hurry her to bed.       He stepped closer, embraced her, watching every emotion on her face to make sure she agreed. Amicia did not push him away, but seemed to freeze. She couldn’t raise her gaze. She was embarrassed. Rodric paused, waiting for some time until she relaxed. Amicia looked at him, no longer with defiance or zeal. She gazed shyly, but with expectation.       In his strong embrace, she felt no discomfort: she felt comfortable, protected. She didn’t want to run away. She even wished to hold on to this moment of comfort and tranquility forever.       Rodric carefully observed her face, not making any move. Amicia grew bolder and placed her hands on his chest. She did not break her gaze from his eyes, silently letting him know that she trusted him. Rodric smiled slightly, as though he himself couldn’t believe what was happening. He closed his eyes and leaned towards her.       Her breath caught in her throat, and part of her wanted to know what would happen next, out of curiosity, while another part simply didn’t want it to end.       His dry lips touched hers gently. She mockingly asked herself why people even thought this was pleasurable. And yet, at the same time, she didn’t want this moment to break. She closed her eyes. Rodric kissed her tenderly, which contrasted with his awkward, rough persona.       Their lips lingered in the touch, and that alone was unforgettable. Amicia felt joy. This touch was better than any feast the cooks at the castle had ever prepared for her. It was different from her father’s embraces: something else, mysterious, and enchanting. She felt his body pressed against hers, his hands, hard and heavy like stone columns. But in his embrace, she felt softness.       They were together for what felt like an eternity, which, for some reason, ended all too soon. They pulled away, opened their eyes, and it was clear that neither of them knew how to answer the unspoken question: 'What comes next?'       They remained silent, she looking down, and he staring at the sky. They had neither the time nor the place for such a desperate, selfish, and self-absorbed step—to love. They both knew it. Every day could be the last, and Hugo demanded their attention.       Amicia sighed loudly, and he too—seemingly in frustration—sighed. They understood each other without speaking. He opened the door and walked upstairs first. Amicia stood for a moment, gazing at the evening sky, with its faint, dull stars that foretold a dark night. She did not want to think about what had happened, nor did she try to understand it.       She waited until Rodric’s footsteps had faded completely and followed him.

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      Since then, they never spoke of it again, silently agreeing to keep it as an eternal secret. And so, they both came to believe their lie — that it had never happened — and behaved towards one another as they always had, without any change.       Amicia tried to forget. More than anything, she wanted to believe she had.       But no. She remembered everything. And afterward, she thought about it every time she was alone—before sleep. She always wanted to find the answer to her question: 'What awaits us if we are not afraid?' And she lay there, her fingers brushing her lips that no longer belonged to her, staring at the castle ceiling, hopelessly despairing at the possibility of ever reliving that feeling—and not just reliving it, but making it her entire life.       She still thought about it, especially in those moments when she felt utterly sad, when she no longer wanted to live.       Even now, Amicia, consumed by memories, stopped eating and did not immediately recover. Her body warmed, as it had that evening, and she was maddeningly embarrassed. Taking another piece from the endless half loaf, she began to chew, but remembering something else, she frowned and nearly spat it out. She was pierced by sharp anger.       'What would Rodric say?... Why should I ask him, the one who decided that throwing himself under arrows, with no other way out, was the best solution?'       Amicia’s cheeks flushed even more, and the remaining piece of bread wouldn’t go down.       She thought furiously about how Rodric, after such a moment of closeness, after such a secret, had dared to say the most foolish thing.

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             They were supposed to work on trap preparations with Arthur, but one of the braziers broke down, and Rodric, cursing the mechanism as much as he could, tried to fix it with harsh blows. Surprisingly, his method worked. 'Although,' thought Amicia, 'has there ever been a time when Rodric didn't find a solution?' She smiled involuntarily, glancing slyly at the panting Rodric. But despite his recent cursing, he looked very pleased with himself. As he had said then, he was simply following in his father’s footsteps, inheriting his legacy with mechanisms. For Amicia, that method still remained, to the extreme, quite strange...       And between Rodric and Amicia, there was an unspoken agreement to act as regular partners. Everything seemed fine, and Amicia, as always, smiled friendly, asked about him politely, and he shamelessly asked why she had asked. Barely suppressing her embarrassment, she lied, wounded by his harshness. Didn’t he know why she wanted to break their agreement so quietly? But he acted as though he didn’t understand.       He asked how she was, and Amicia, hesitating, said she was fine, and he immediately sensed her true feelings: she was upset because Hugo had been taken by the Inquisition. Again, he showed his care and understanding, suggesting they expand the search circle. But if he still had hope, Amicia had none. She forgot her embarrassment, became serious, and turned away.       'A month has already passed…' she replied.       They decided to get to work, and Amicia hoped to forget in the process. They exchanged a couple of phrases, when Rodric, who had been watching Arthur the whole time, suddenly smirked. Mischief danced in his eyes. Amicia, sensing that he had something in mind, became alert.       'Ah, I understand… Arthur wants you all to himself, doesn’t he?'       Amicia couldn't believe her ears. Then, making sure she had heard correctly and growing angry, she cast a silent, reproachful glance at Rodric. In her mind, she was asking herself, 'What nonsense is he talking about?!'       She had already suspected that Arthur had feelings for her, but Rodric knew that Amicia had trusted him... Arthur, embarrassed, began to stutter.       'Ah, just shut up!' Arthur shouted.       'Most delightful Amicia... Do allow this lonely outlaw to steal your heart,' Rodric began to mock, performing an exaggerated bow.       Arthur nearly burned with shame and lunged at Rodric.       'Go take a bath, you stink!' he shouted.       'Such a courteous minstrel you are!' Rodric replied.       Laughing, he walked away without even exchanging a glance with Amicia. This stung her deeply. Afterward, Amicia and Arthur focused on positioning the braziers correctly, one last time before the attack...

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      'Fool! How could you steal a kiss from a noble lady and then say something like that?!' Amicia struck the table with her fist, her brow furrowed. Or is stupidity something that belongs to poor boys?       She cursed Rodric in her mind for a couple more minutes, then, after taking a deep breath, she huffed and decided not to think about it anymore. She wasn’t hungry anymore, so she tossed the leftovers into her bag, swept the crumbs off the table into her hand, and threw them out the window, careful not to attract rats.       Today was their last day in this old house, whose fate it was to once again be empty. After making sure everything was prepared, Amicia stepped out of the house for the last time. Looking up at the sky, she saw the day had just begun, so it would soon be time to leave. Hugo was supposed to be playing outside, but he wasn’t there, and he didn’t respond when she called his name. It seemed he had run off.       'I need to find Hugo,' she thought, worried he had disappeared, and hurried out to the village streets... She had to look after him. Rodric would have said the same.       It was the third day since the rats had left, and the people were gradually recovering, but not enough to accept Hugo. Even Millie had left them. So they too had to leave without delay. They needed to buy ingredients for Lucas with their last coins.       'Hugo... Hugo, where are you?' she called out, running into the village streets...

***

      They were sitting in the cart, laughing and enjoying themselves. Amicia kept her sadness deep inside her soul, and with all her heart, she tried not to remember, not to look at the houses they were leaving behind, where the people who had driven them away were hiding, and to focus on the future ahead, the one caught up in the pounding hooves of their horse. But one thought she allowed to remain, not to disappear:       'Rodric, I will always remember you.'