a way foward

Larissa tightened her fingers around the letter, slipping it into the folds of her skirt before pushing open the front door. The moment she stepped inside, the heavy warmth of the house pressed against her dump skin, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside. The scent of burnt candle wax mixed with the faintest traces of their evening meal, now long gone cold.

Her aunt, Miriam sat stiffly in the chair by the fireplace, her expression soured as she stirred a cup of tea. Across from her, Marielle reclined lazily, a smirk curling her lips. At the sight of Larissa, the smirk widened.

"You certainly took your time." Miriam said coldly, setting her cup down with a sharp clink. " Enjoying a stroll with the duke's son, were you?"

Larissa kept her face blank. " He simply asked to speak with me for a moment before leaving."

Miriam let out a scoff, leaning back in her chair. " And what did he want? To whisper sweet promises? Or offer you a silk dress in exchange for your dignity?"

Marielle giggled behind her hand. " Honestly mother, it's not surprising. After all, her mother was_"

"Don't." Larissa's voice came out firm, her heart hammering.

Miriam's lips curled in disgust. "You think you are different from her? You think that a man like Mr Lockwood will ever consider you more than a moment's amusement?" She stood, stepping closer until she loomed over Larissa. " Lat me make this clear, girl, I will not have you bringing shame upon this household. If I hear even a whisper about you throwing yourself at noblemen, you will regret it."

Larissa swallowed hard, her hands clenched at her sides. The old hurt, the same wound they reopened every time they spoke of her mother, ached deep inside her chest. But she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"Understood." She said, her voice calm despite the turmoil within.

Miriam studied her for a long time before scoffing and waving her off dismissively. "Go to bed. And don't forget my words."

Larissa did not need to be told twice. She turned sharply on her heel and strode towards the stairs, her footsteps steady, unhurried. Only when she reached her bedroom and shut the door behind her did she let out a slow breath.

The small, dimly lit room felt suffocating, yet it was the only place where she could truly be alone. She peeled off her dump cloak and hung it on the wooden chair before sitting on the edge of her narrow bed.

Letting out a slow breath, her hands reached out for the letter. She sattbon the edge of the bed, carefully unfolding the parchment. Lady Minerva's elegant handwriting greeted her. The ink still dark and fresh which read...

My dear Larissa

I hope that this letter finds you well, I have found an opportunity for you. One that I believe would suit you better than the current circumstances.

A household in a wealthy town three hours from your house is in need of a reliable young woman. The position is honest work and will provide fair wages. If you are interested, come see me tomorrow and I will arrange for your placement.

I trust you will make the right choice for yourself.

with warm regards

Minerva

Larissa stared at the words, her chest tightening.

A chance.

For the first time in a long time, hope flickered inside her. This could be her escape. A way out of this house and away from the cold stares and cruel words from the very same people She called family.

She exhaled, allowing herself to dream. If she took the job, saved her earnings, she could eventually afford to rent a room for her own. A boarding house perhaps. Somewhere small and peaceful.

Carefully, she folded the letter and placed it beneath her pillow as if keeping it close would make it more real.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

The first rays of dawn slipped through the cracks of Larissa's window, painting the small room with hues of pale gold. The air was dump carrying the scent of dump earth from the last night's rain. She stirred beneath her thin blanket, blinking away the remnants of sleep.

Morning meant work.

She rose quietly, careful not to make any noise that would wake the others. The wooden floor was cold beneath her feet as she crossed the room and slipped into her worn dress. The fabric hang loosely around her frame, a testament to the meager meals she was allowed.

Pulling her hair into loose braid, she left her room and descended the stairs, her movements practiced and silent. The house was still, save for the faint creak of old wood beneath her steps.

In the dim kitchen, she got to work.

The fire in the hearth had long since died leaving the room chilly, she rekindled it, adding fresh wood until warmth seepes back into the space. The familiar routine began _. Kneading dough for bread, fetching water from the well outside and preparing breakfast.

The smell of good lured aunt Miriam and Marielle to the table. They ate without sparing her a glance as if she was no more than another household fixture. Uncle Joseph joined them soon after, grunting his usual morning greetings.

Larissa remained standing, waiting until they finished before she took whatever little was left _ a crust of bread and a few sips of watered _down milk.

As she cleaned, aunt Miriam's voice cut through the quiet.

"Don't think you can leech on my kindness forever," she took a sip from her tea, her gaze sharp. " You live under my roof, eat my food..._ you should be grateful for the work you do here.'

Larissa just pursed her lips, wondering why the woman had started the conversation out of nowhere but she said nothing in response other than a nod.

"I'm telling you that so that you don't ever forget it, considering how sir Allan had asked for you."

With the morning chores done, Larissa slipped out of the house.