Begin with a Merchant’s Daughter
There once was a rich Merchant whose Wife delivered to him a Daughter, and then the Wife died. The Merchant doted on his child. He called her the jewel of his hearth. He raised her up just so — cosseted the right measure to make her cheerful and trusting, whipped enough to keep her humble. A wise investment! The girl’s bright spirit and obliging temperament, together with her father’s fat purse, made her a desirable bride. The Merchant negotiated a remarkable match into the Nobility. His heart swelled with accomplishment. From that time forward, when the man looked at Daughter he saw the fine, entitled sons she would bear.
A day arrived in her fourteenth year when the Merchant’s Daughter came of age. Soon thereafter, she and her father and her old Nurse — accompanied by hired knights, chattering servants, wagons bearing goods, and donkeys bearing baggage — all traveled to the Nobleman’s estate for the purpose of a wedding.
The journey took a week. It happened at the turning of the year, mellow autumn, when long days give way to the approach of long nights, a fine season for being on the road. Every autumn the Nobleman hosted a grand Harvest Festival known throughout the land, and this one promised to be the grandest of all as everyone looked to celebrate the marriage of the Nobleman’s Son.