
Sarah looked at her, concerned. "What's wrong?"
"I've been here too long. Mother will be wondering where I am, and I still haven't gotten the flour!"
Sarah squeezed her hand sympathetically. "You'd better go, then. But wasn't it worth it?"
Despite her worry, Rebecca couldn't help but smile. "It really was."
As she turned to leave, a commotion near one of the stalls caught her attention. A group of children had gathered around a colorful tent, their excited chatter rising above the general hubbub of the festival.
"What's going on over there?" Rebecca asked, her curiosity getting the better of her once again.
Sarah stood on her tiptoes to see over the crowd. "Oh, it's Mr. Figgis and his puppet show! The kids love it every year."
Rebecca hesitated, torn between her responsibility and her desire to see more of the festival. "I really should go..."
But even as she spoke, her feet were alread


A young woman with vibrant blue hair was creating intricate designs on people's hands with what looked like a reddish-brown paste.
"It's henna," explained a girl standing next to Rebecca. "It's temporary body art from India. Isn't it beautiful?"
Rebecca watched, fascinated, as the artist swiftly drew delicate flowers and swirls on a customer's hand. "It's gorgeous," she breathed.
The blue-haired artist looked up and smiled. "Would you like to try? I'm Zoe, by the way."
Before she knew it, Rebecca found herself sitting on a stool, her hand outstretched as Zoe began to work. As the cool paste was applied to her skin, Rebecca and Zoe chatted easily.
"I'm not from around here," Zoe explained. "I travel from festival to festival, sharing my art. There's something magical about festivals, don't you think? Everyone comes together, forgetting their differences for a day."
Rebecca nodded enthusi


Rebecca fell back onto her pillow with a heavy sigh, a wave of disappointment washing over her. It had all been just a dream. Luca wasn't here, whisking her away on grand adventures. She was still just Rebecca Harrison, the baker's daughter, trapped in a life that felt too small for her dreams.
She closed her eyes, trying to recapture the feeling of freedom and possibility that had permeated her dream. But it slipped away like sand through her fingers, leaving behind only a dull ache of longing.
The sound of movement downstairs reminded her that another day at the bakery awaited. With a groan, Rebecca forced herself out of bed, the weight of reality settling heavily on her shoulders.
As she got dressed, she couldn't help but wonder: Would she ever see Luca again? And if she did, could he possibly live up to the perfect, adventurous version of himself she'd created in her dreams?
With one last wistful glance at her bed, where the remnants of her dream still lingered, Rebecca squared her shoulders and prepared to face another day in Gilda's Bay.
Rebecca stepped out of the bakery, her mother's words still ringing in her ears.
"Rebecca, dear," Catherine had said, her voice tinged with that familiar mix of authority and concern, "we're running low on flour. I need you to go to Mr. Thompson's mill on the other side of town. And please, for heaven's sake, come straight back. No dawdling."
"Yes, Mother," Rebecca had replied, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. At 21, she felt far too old for such strict instructions.
As she walked down the cobblestone street, the warm summer breeze tousled her chestnut hair. The usually quiet town of Gilda's Bay seemed different today. Colorful banners hung from lampposts, and the air buzzed with excitement.
"What's going on?" Rebecca wondered aloud, her curiosity piqued.
An elderly woman passing by overheard her. "Why, it's the Summer Solstice Festival, dearie! Don't tell me you forgot?"
Rebecca's eyes widened. Of course! How could she have forgotten? The festival was the highlight of the year in Gilda's Bay, a rare occasion when the usually conservative town let its hair down.
"Thank you, Mrs. Perkins," Rebecca said, her mind already racing with possibilities.
She glanced down at the empty flour sack in her hands, then back at the festive decorations. The responsible part of her knew she should head straight to Mr. Thompson's mill, but the free spirit in her yearned to join the celebration.
"I'll just take a quick look," she promised herself. "Just a few minutes, then I'll get the flour."
With that decision made, Rebecca turned away from her intended path and followed the sound of music and laughter. As she rounded the corner, she gasped at the sight before her.
The town square had been transformed. Colorful stalls lined the edges, selling everything from hand-crafted jewelry to mouth-watering treats. In the center, a group of musicians played lively tunes while couples danced with abandon.
"Rebecca! Rebecca Harrison, is that you?"
She turned to see her childhood friend, Sarah, waving excitedly from a nearby stall.
"Sarah! I didn't expect to see you here," Rebecca said, making her way over.
Sarah grinned. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world. But wait, aren't you supposed to be at the bakery?"
Rebecca felt a twinge of guilt. "I'm on an errand for Mother. I'm supposed to get flour from Mr. Thompson."
"And you just happened to take a detour through the festival?" Sarah teased.
"Well, I..." Rebecca began, but she was interrupted by a loud fanfare.
"The parade is starting!" someone in the crowd shouted.
Before she knew it, Rebecca was swept up in the excitement. She found herself being pulled along by Sarah towards the main street.
"Come on, Becca! We have to get a good spot!"
As they pushed their way through the crowd, Rebecca's guilt was momentarily forgotten. The parade was a riot of color and sound. Elaborate floats rolled by, each more spectacular than the last. Dancers in shimmering costumes twirled and leaped, their movements hypnotic.
"Oh, Sarah, isn't it wonderful?" Rebecca breathed, her eyes wide with wonder.
Sarah nodded enthusiastically. "Look at that one!" she exclaimed, pointing to a float designed to look like a giant sea serpent.
As the parade continued, Rebecca found herself relaxing, allowing the festive atmosphere to wash over her. She clapped along with the music, cheered for the performers, and for a moment, forgot about the strict world she usually inhabited.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" a booming voice announced, "Please welcome our street performers!"
The parade gave way to a troupe of entertainers. Jugglers tossed flaming torches high into the air, eliciting gasps from the crowd. Acrobats formed human pyramids that seemed to defy gravity.
"How do they do that?" Rebecca marveled.
A magician stepped forward, his cape sparkling in the sunlight. "I need a volunteer from the audience," he called out.
To her surprise, Rebecca found her hand shooting up. The magician's eyes locked onto her, and he smiled. "You, young lady! Come up here!"
Sarah gave her a little push. "Go on, Becca!"
Heart pounding, Rebecca made her way to the front. The magician bowed dramatically. "And what's your name, my dear?"
"Rebecca," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Well, Rebecca, are you ready for some magic?"
She nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through her.
The magician produced a deck of cards from thin air, making the crowd gasp. "Pick a card, any card," he instructed.
Rebecca hesitated for a moment before selecting one from the middle of the deck. She looked at it carefully – the Queen of Hearts.
"Now, remember your card, but don't tell me what it is," the magician said with a wink. He then asked her to place the card back in the deck.
With a flourish, he shuffled the cards, his hands moving so fast they were almost a blur. Then, to Rebecca's amazement, he threw the entire deck into the air.
The cards scattered, fluttering down like confetti. But as they fell, one card remained suspended in mid-air, slowly rotating.
The magician plucked it from the air and held it up for all to see. "Is this your card?"
Rebecca's jaw dropped. It was indeed the Queen of Hearts.
The crowd erupted in applause, and Rebecca felt a rush of exhilaration. As she made her way back to Sarah, she couldn't stop grinning.
"That was amazing!" Sarah exclaimed. "I can't believe you got picked!"
Rebecca nodded, still slightly dazed from the experience. "I've never seen anything like it. How did he do that?"
As they continued to watch the performers, Rebecca's guilt began to creep back in. She glanced at the position of the sun and realized with a start that more time had passed than she'd intended.
"Oh no," she muttered.

Sarah looked at her, concerned. "What's wrong?"
"I've been here too long. Mother will be wondering where I am, and I still haven't gotten the flour!"
Sarah squeezed her hand sympathetically. "You'd better go, then. But wasn't it worth it?"
Despite her worry, Rebecca couldn't help but smile. "It really was."
As she turned to leave, a commotion near one of the stalls caught her attention. A group of children had gathered around a colorful tent, their excited chatter rising above the general hubbub of the festival.
"What's going on over there?" Rebecca asked, her curiosity getting the better of her once again.
Sarah stood on her tiptoes to see over the crowd. "Oh, it's Mr. Figgis and his puppet show! The kids love it every year."
Rebecca hesitated, torn between her responsibility and her desire to see more of the festival. "I really should go..."
But even as she spoke, her feet were already carrying her towards the puppet show. The children's laughter was infectious, and she found

CHAPTER TEN – THE FAIR STANDS