CHAPTER 6: Hope

Lidia was still sitting in the alley, staring blankly at the wall in front of her, nibbling on what was left of her fried chicken. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of regret, hunger, and exhaustion. Her mind kept looping back to how ridiculous her life had become. It was like every horrible life choice she'd ever made had conspired to drop her right into this chaotic mess.

Her train of thought derailed as a cheerful voice called out behind her. "Miss! Look what I got!"

She turned, blinking in confusion, and saw the boy she'd shared her chicken with earlier. His grin stretched so wide she half-expected his face to split in two. He was clutching the hem of his shirt, which was bulging with various fruits: oranges, apples, and even some strange spiky thing she couldn't identify.

Lidia's jaw dropped. The kid looked like he had been in a war zone. His arms and legs were scratched up like he had taken a tumble into a thorn bush—or more accurately, climbed a tree. His messy hair was dusted with leaves, and his tunic was smeared with dirt. Yet, he beamed at her like he had just won a prize.

"For you," he announced proudly, holding out a bruised apple.

Her chest tightened, and her eyes burned. "Are you trying to make me cry?" she choked out, sniffling and swiping at her nose. This tiny, scrappy little angel, she thought. I gave him a measly piece of chicken, and he goes full Robin Hood to bring me fruit?

"Why would you cry? You got food now!" he beamed.

They sat down on the crates together, the boy dumping the fruits between them like a pirate unloading treasure. Lidia reached for the spiky one first, but the boy slapped her hand away, his face stern. "Don't. That one's weird," he advised, biting into an apple and spitting out a seed. "I only picked it because my mother has a stranger liking to it."

She nodded, taking his word for it, and picked up something safer—like a slightly battered orange. They ate in silence for a few moments before she decided to ask the question that had been bothering her since she got here.

"So," she began, chewing thoughtfully, "how does money work here? Like, what's worth what?"

The boy's mouth was half-full of apple, but he somehow managed to explain through a series of exaggerated gestures and muffled words. "Two copper coins make one gold coin," he said, holding up two fingers. "Ten gold coins make one silver coin."

"Uh-huh."

"Then ten silver coins make one bronze coin."

Lidia froze, mid-bite, the orange slice halfway to her mouth. "Wait. Hold on. Back up. You're telling me bronze is worth more than gold?"

"Yep," he chirped, biting into another apple with the nonchalance of someone who grew up in this madness. "Because gold's everywhere. Like, it's really common. But bronze? Super rare."

Her eye twitched. She clenched her fist, squishing the orange slice into a pulpy mess. "So you're telling me…gold coins are basically worthless here?"

He tilted his head, confused. "Well, not worthless. They're just… not worth much."

Lidia let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a groan and a scream. If she had known this earlier, she would've ripped the silver chain off that lantern before the damned priest caught her. She could've had something of actual value instead of being duped into trading her precious golden sconce for practically nothing.

"Dammit," she hissed, biting her lip hard enough to hurt. She could feel her anger bubbling up, and it took every ounce of willpower not to throw the orange at a wall.

The boy paused, mid-chew, and glanced at her curiously. "What happened to you, anyway?" he asked, gesturing vaguely at her disheveled state.

Lidia gave a dry laugh, rubbing her temples. "Rough life, kid."

The boy squinted at her, his gaze drifting over her white garment. "But aren't you a saintess-in-training? That uniform means you must've come from a good family. Only nobles can become saintesses."

Lidia blinked, her brain grinding to a halt. For a moment, she stared at him blankly, as though he had spoken an alien language. Then, like a bolt of lightning, realization struck.

"Wait," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why haven't I thought about this before?"

The boy frowned, clearly confused. "Thought about what?"

Lidia shot to her feet, nearly toppling the crate she was sitting on. "The Diviliness family! They're Gammas!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with excitement.

The boy looked at her like she had lost her mind. "Uh… what?"

Lidia ignored him, her thoughts racing. I'm a freaking noble!

Her chest heaved as she tried to process the implications. Nobles had resources. Nobles had influence. Nobles weren't homeless. All she had to do was find her family, and everything would fall into place. She would have a roof over her head, food on the table, and—most importantly—no more trading gold sconces for pennies.

"Everything's not lost," she muttered, a wild grin spreading across her face. "I can fix this. I can totally fix this."

The boy raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "You okay, miss?"

"Kid, you're a genius!" she declared.

"I… am?" he asked, blinking up at her with wide eyes.

"Yes!" she grinned, ruffling his already messy hair. "You've saved my life."

The boy grinned back, though he clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

Lidia whirled around, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. "Do you know where the noble family Diviliness reside?" she demanded, her eyes gleaming with desperation.

He blinked, startled. "Uh, yeah, I guess? If you travel southeast from here. Why?"

She released him, a manic laugh bubbling up from her chest. "Because that's where I'm going. Thanks for the fruit, kid. You're a lifesaver."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and marched out of the alley, determination etched into every line of her face. She was going to find her family, reclaim her title, and put an end to this nightmare of homelessness.

The boy watched her go, shaking his head. "Weird lady," he muttered, popping another apple slice into his mouth.