The morning after his venture into the forest, Stanley awoke to aches and pains, reminders of yesterday's journey. As he entered the quaint kitchen, he found Vivian already there, bustling about with preparations for breakfast. The smell of fresh herbs and bread filled the room, a comforting embrace as he settled at the table.

Maria was already outside, tending to the garden, her presence noted by her occasional shadow passing the window. Stanley, rubbing his sore shoulders, accepted the warm cup of tea Vivian placed before him.

“Sleep well?” Vivian asked, setting down a plate of eggs and bread in front of him.

“Well enough, thank you,” Stanley replied, managing a smile. He took a sip of tea, the warmth soothing.

“You must be sore from your adventure yesterday,” she remarked, a hint of concern in her tone.

“A bit,” Stanley admitted, managing a smile. “But it’s nothing serious. Just not used to that much activity in one go.”

Vivian sat across from him, her gaze thoughtful. “Stanley, I must ask,” she began delicately, “do you find Maria pretty?”

Stanley nearly choked on his tea, caught off guard. He coughed, setting the cup down. “Um, yes, she’s very... striking.”

Vivian nodded at his discomfort. "She can be a pain, as you've seen, but she has a good heart. She’s more than she seems. I think," she paused, choosing her words carefully, "you two could be good for each other."

Stanley blinked. He glanced towards the window where Maria's figure moved through the garden. "Vivian, I—"

"I want you to promise me something," Vivian cut in, her tone serious. She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his. "After your Trials, come back here, marry Maria, and take her away from this life."

Stanley stared at Vivian, speechless, the gravity of her request sinking in.

Vivian’s expression was earnest. “I mean it, Stanley. I like you. Even if I weren't Maria’s mother, I’d say pairing up with you would be a good thing. You’re kind, capable. You could use her help on your adventures, and she needs to see the world outside these woods.”

Stanley struggled to find words. “You want me to... marry Maria? Just like that?”

“Yes,” Vivian said simply. “I believe it’s fate, Stanley. Your paths crossing, you coming here, was not just mere chance. I believe you are one of the few who will pass the Trials. Maria and you—there’s a connection there, whether you see it yet or not.”

“But does she even... I mean, have you talked to her about this?” Stanley managed, his mind racing.

Vivian shook her head. “No, not yet. This is between us for now. I want to know if you’d consider it.”

Stanley took a deep breath, his thoughts awhirl. After yesterday's ordeal, he couldn't deny a certain pull in Vivian’s words. “I... I’m honored, Vivian. And confused,” he admitted. “But why me? Why so certain?”

Vivian smiled, a mixture of maternal warmth and shrewd calculation in her eyes. “Because, Stanley, I see potential in you that you haven't even begun to understand. And for Maria, you could be her chance for a different life.”

The room fell silent, save for the soft clink of cutlery and the distant birdsong from the garden. Stanley pondered, the weight of the decision pressing on him. Marrying Maria, a woman he barely knew, seemed daunting, yet something in Vivian’s conviction stirred him.

“Let me think on it,” Stanley finally said. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Of course,” Vivian replied, standing. “Take all the time you need. But remember, destiny has a way of making decisions for us, whether we’re ready or not.”

The weight of her words remained between them as Stanley finished his breakfast in thoughtful silence. The implications of Vivian’s proposal, the potential partnership with Maria, and the path ahead were a lot to digest. But deep down, as he glanced out the window at the sunlit garden, a part of him felt a strange, inexplicable pull towards the possibility, towards a fate that might indeed be his to embrace.

***

As Stanley stood to clear the dishes, the door creaked open and Maria stepped in, her cheeks flushed from the morning air, her eyes bright and alive.

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"Good morning."

"Good morning."

Her arms laden with fresh herbs and a faint sheen of sweat on her brow, signaling the morning's hard work. She placed the herbs on the kitchen counter, wiping her hands on her apron as she noticed Stanley’s contemplative gaze fixed on her.

“Your mother… she made a proposal to me,” Stanley began cautiously, observing her closely for any sign of her awareness of the conversation he had with Vivian.

Maria’s expression stiffened, a mix of surprise and irritation flashing across her face. “Oh, she did, did she? And what might that be?” Her tone was defensive, bracing herself for whatever might come.

Stanley took a deep breath. “She thinks… that if I succeed in the Trials, I should come back… for you. That we should be together, maybe even leave here together.”

The words hung heavily between them. Maria’s initial reaction was a scoff, a bitter laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s absurd,” she snapped, turning away to busy herself with the herbs, chopping them more aggressively than necessary. “I don’t need anyone to come back for me.”

Stanley remained quiet for a moment, letting her vent her frustration. When she had calmed slightly, he ventured further. “Is it just the idea you don’t like, or is it more about leaving?”

Maria slammed the knife down on the counter, her whole body tensed. “Why would I want to leave everything I know based on some… some deal you made with my mother? I’m not some prize to be handed over!” Her voice was sharp, filled with a mix of fear and anger at the unknown, and the deep-seated feeling of being trapped by familial decisions.

Her outburst brought Vivian into the kitchen, her face drawn with concern that quickly shifted to frustration as she caught the tail end of Maria’s rant. “You’re 28 years old, Maria!” Vivian exclaimed, her voice rising in exasperation. “I’m tired of your constant negativity and whining. It’s high time for you to make your own life, to see what the world has to offer!”

Maria whirled around to face her mother, her eyes blazing. "I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions," Maria retorted, her voice trembling. "I don't need you orchestrating my life!"

"Wait, you're 28?" Stanley looked genuinely surprised, which only fueled Maria's frustration.

"All you do is complain and wallow in your negativity!" Vivian finally shouted. "It's time you moved on and found happiness, maybe even a family!"

Maria recoiled as if slapped, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "So this is how you get rid of me? You would just send me off with the first man who comes along? Is that it?” The accusation hung in the air, thick with betrayal and hurt.

Stanley, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, interjected, “Maria, I didn’t agree to anything without talking to you first. I’m just as surprised by all this.”

"And you! Just some village kid who thinks he can handle the Trials. What do you know about life or responsibility?" Maria turned her sharp gaze on him. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m 18,” Stanley replied. “And I don’t appreciate being spoken to like that.”

"Eighteen! You're almost half my age!" Maria rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Great, just great! A kid, then! What next, Mother? Should I also nurse him?"

The room was thick with tension, each person caught in their own swirl of emotions and grievances. Maria, realizing she was outnumbered yet not defeated, let out a harsh laugh. “Well, whatever. It's not like it really matters. It’s highly unlikely you’ll survive the Trials anyway.”

“And what if I do?” Stanley challenged, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Maria paused, her anger subsiding into a resigned shrug. “Then I guess… whatever. It won’t happen, though.”

Vivian, witnessing the interaction, sighed deeply, a mixture of regret and concern etching her features. “Maria, you know I only want what’s best for you. This isn’t just about leaving. It’s about living. Can’t you see that?”

Maria didn’t respond, her face a mask of stubborn resignation. She turned back to her herbs, effectively ending the conversation with a dismissive wave of her hand. As she chopped, her actions spoke louder than words.

Stanley watched the mother and daughter. Vivian’s plan, however well-intentioned, had stirred a hornet’s nest of emotions and fears. He was feeling like a participant in a play he hadn’t auditioned for. Excusing himself, he left the kitchen.

Stanley’s thoughts were a jumble of concern for Maria, for Vivian and frustration with the situation, all the while thinking about whatever the Trials may throw at him. His thoughts lingered on Maria’s reluctant admission, her final words echoing a challenge and a possibility that he might just take on.

***

Alone in the guest room, Stanley paced slowly, each step echoing his internal turmoil. The proposal laid out by Vivian weighed heavily on him, mixing in with his thoughts about the upcoming Trials and his future. The room, filled with the soft, diffused light of morning, seemed too quiet, almost expectant.

Stanley liked Vivian, respected her even, and the idea of having Maria by his side on potential future adventures wasn’t unappealing. Maria's knowledge of nature and herbs could indeed prove invaluable. He couldn't deny she was attractive, and perhaps there was a certain sense of destiny in their meeting. The thoughts tangled in his mind, each a valid point pulling him toward accepting the pact.

But what if it doesn’t work out? He thought. If it comes to the worst, it's not like I can’t break the promise later... This wasn’t a comforting thought, but it was a practical one.

But could he really go back on his word if it came to that? The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

With a heavy sigh, Stanley decided he needed more clarity, more commitment from Maria herself. He found her once again in the garden, still fuming from their earlier conversation, her hands aggressively tending to the plants.

“Maria,” he started, his voice firm yet careful. “I need to know... if I pass the Trials, will you really marry me? If you don't want to, that's perfectly fine. But I need clarity, now, before I leave.”

Maria’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and something else—perhaps fear. "Are you serious?" she snapped, her voice tight. "After all that, you think I can just make a decision like that now?"

Stanley held up his hands, a peace-making gesture. "I’m not saying you have to decide this moment," he explained, "but before I leave, I need to know where you stand. If you don't want this, it's fine. Just say it now, clearly."

Maria stared at him, her eyes searching his. The raw emotion from their earlier confrontation still lingered, but beneath that, there was something else—an uncertainty, a curiosity perhaps. “I... I don’t know, Stanley. This is all so sudden. And frankly, it feels like I’m not being given a choice here.”

“It’s your choice,” Stanley insisted gently. “I won’t accept this pact unless you're on board. Not just because your mother thinks it’s a good idea. It has to be your decision too.”

The air between them was charged with a tense energy as Maria considered his words. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as the fight seemed to go out of her. “If—if you survive the Trials, and you still want this... then yes, I’ll marry you. But I’m doing this for me, not just because my mother or anyone else says I should.”

The words hung between them, not entirely comforting but clear enough. Stanley felt a weight lift, even as another settled in its place. He had her answer.

Stanley nodded, a complex mix of relief and apprehension settling within him. “Thank you, Maria. That’s all I needed to hear.”

As he turned to leave, Maria called out, “Stanley?” He looked back, meeting her gaze. “Be careful in the Trials. Whatever happens, just... be careful.”

With a small, grateful smile, Stanley replied, “I will. Thank you, Maria.”

As he walked back towards the cottage, Stanley felt a strange concoction of emotions—reluctance, because the promise was made under circumstances far from ordinary; obligation, because he sensed that Vivian and Maria genuinely needed a change, one he might provide; and manipulation, as he couldn’t fully shake off the feeling that Vivian had orchestrated these events with uncanny precision.

The pact, sealed with a wary acceptance, was not just a promise to return; it was a promise to embrace whatever life would throw at him after the Trials, for better or for worse.

By noon, Stanley was ready to depart, his belongings packed, his emotions packed too, down into manageable compartments. He would stop by his village one last time, a brief farewell to the only life he’d known before heading southeast towards the Trials.

His departure was quiet. The impending Trials now coupled with the weight of a promise that felt both like a potential blessing and a curse. As he glanced back at the cottage, with Maria and Vivian watching from the doorway, there was a sense of irrevocability, of stepping into a runaway future.