Everyone in the family had a specific role in the village.
But today, it's Louis I'm going to watch.
This young man is intriguing. For several days now, he seems to be hiding something. And I'm not the only one who's noticed.
Marc is in on it. I saw them one night, leaving the forge together, a knowing smile on their faces.
What are they plotting?
What is Louis hiding from us?
Why those exchanged glances, those murmured secrets?
I'm going to sneak into the forge tonight.
But apparently, Louis isn't the only one hiding things! Marc, Mr. Dumas, the village women… everyone seems to be in on it. Mylova and I seem to be the only ones who don't know anything. Except she doesn't try to figure it out. She lives, breathes, laughs with the children, carefree.
Me? I want to know.
This morning, I followed Marc and Mr. Dumas. They gathered a few men. They seemed in a hurry, busy. And I quickly understood why.
They were building a house.
A pretty little wooden house, with hand-sewn curtains and a small flowered porch.
But why? Everyone already has a hut here…
— "Friends," Marc said, his voice joyful, "I've come to ask for your help to build a house for my sister. You know, even if we don't follow the ridiculous rules of the church anymore, we all know there's no perfect age to get married. And those two… well, they're ready."
A murmur of surprise, then…
— "Are you in?"
— "Yeeees!!" the villagers shouted in unison.
The men got to work, and at the same time, the village women bustled with just as much enthusiasm. They brought out their finest fabrics, precious cloth they had kept for special occasions. Skilled hands sewed, assembled, embroidered. They had to create the most beautiful wedding outfits possible. Mylova's dress would be soft, flowing, adorned with gold threads and beads made from dried seeds. Louis would have an elegant vest, decorated with a leather-forged pattern.
Everyone had been given a task. And Mylova's… was simply to be happy.
Meanwhile, in the secrecy of the forge, Louis worked tirelessly. Each evening, by the discreet glow of the fire, he melted down a silver necklace. This piece of jewelry had been a gift from his mother, his most precious possession. He transformed it, shaping it with tenderness and clumsy care, to make a ring. Her ring. The one he would give to Mylova, heart racing, hands trembling.
And finally, the big day came. Without warning, without telling anyone. Well… almost anyone.
---
Louis had arranged to meet Mylova in their little paradise, one afternoon.
— "Uh… hi… uh… it's a nice day, huh? See the sun? It's… well, it's there, you know…"
Mylova, intrigued but amused, sat in the fresh grass. Vanessa approached with her violin. She began to play a romantic tune… except she hit the wrong string and accidentally launched into the intro of a horror film. Louis jumped, and Mylova burst out laughing.
(whispering to Vanessa): "That's not the piece!"
(Vanessa whispering back): "It's this or nothing, I didn't practice!"
Suddenly, about ten villagers popped out of nowhere. Literally. They held banana leaf petals and homemade instruments: a tambourine made from a pan, a guitar with no strings, a plastic stick that whistled.
And they started singing.
One villager: "Looooove is beaaaautiful, lalalaaaaa… oh, I forgot the lyrics!"
Another one, too hyped: "JUST SING ANYWAY, MARCEL!!"
Mylova laughed so hard she cried. Louis, on the other hand, went pale, then red. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring… which fell into the grass.
Panic. He dropped to all fours.
— "This can't be happening, I ruined everything, where's that damn ri—"
— "Do you want me to help you propose or…?" Mylova teased, still laughing.
Louis (standing up with a small rock in hand): "Mylova! Will you… uh… no, wait… here! (he finds the real ring)
He looked at her, eyes glistening.
— "Mylova… I can't promise you magic. Just… a life with me. With my too-big feet, my bad jokes, and my grimaces when I forge metal that's too hot. But… if you're ready to live with a guy who drops his own ring, I'm here. So… will you be my wife?"
Mylova jumped into his arms. Louis fell back with her. The villagers screamed with joy. A baby cried. A dog barked. A bird farted. And everyone clapped.
— "Yes, Louis! Yes for all your silliness! You're the man of my life!"
— "I knew you'd say yes… even if I thought we were all going to die from a failed concert."
Vanessa, proud, kept playing. Petals flew. An old lady sneezed. And Louis laughed, cried, and held Mylova against him as if the whole world had stopped just for the two of them.