A year had passed since Ivelle and Liriel had left Briarhollow behind.
A year since they had arrived in the capital with little more than their belongings, a few coins, and the desperate hope that a new city might offer them the freedom they could never find in their village.
The capital had offered them freedom.
It had simply demanded a price for it.
They had quickly learned that life in the great Capital was nothing like the stories they had heard before arriving. The magnificent towers, crowded markets, wealthy nobles, elegant carriages, and glittering shops were only one side of the capital.
Beneath all that beauty was another world.
A world of deception.... SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST!
People smiled while calculating how much they could take from you. Merchants changed prices depending on how desperate a customer looked. Landlords invented fees. Employers promised fair wages and paid half of what they had agreed upon.
Even kindness had to be questioned.
Ivelle and Liriel learned those lessons the hard way.
Yet they survived.
For the past several months, they had managed to run a small stall in one of the less prosperous districts of the capital. They sold handmade ornaments, embroidered accessories, dried herbs, simple perfumes, scented sachets, and other little things Ivelle crafted with her hands.
It wasn’t a grand business.
But it belonged to them.
And that was enough.
At least, it had been.
Until that morning.
The first sign that something was wrong came when Liriel noticed three men approaching from the other end of the street.
She stopped arranging a row of small glass perfume bottles and stared at them.
"Ivelle."
Ivelle looked up from the bundle of dried lavender she was tying together.
"What is it?"
"Those men."
Ivelle followed her gaze.
The three men were walking directly toward their stall.
Their expressions were hard, and none of them carried the curious look of customers.
Ivelle slowly straightened.
"Stay behind me."
Liriel frowned.
"Why?"
"I don’t know."
The men stopped in front of the stall.
The largest one looked over their merchandise before giving a humorless smile.
"Where is she?"
Liriel frowned.
"Where is who?"
"The girl who refused our master’s proposal."
Liriel’s expression immediately changed.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
The man laughed.
"Don’t lie."
One of the others kicked a wooden crate beneath the stall.
The crate toppled over, spilling their neatly arranged goods across the ground.
Liriel gasped.
"Hey!"
She rushed forward.
"What are you doing?"
The second man seized one of the wooden display racks and threw it aside.
Glass bottles shattered against the ground.
The sharp sound made Ivelle flinch.
"Stop!"
The men ignored her.
Another shelf was overturned.
Dried herbs scattered across the dirt.
A small box containing several pieces of jewelry was grabbed and thrown into a sack.
Liriel stepped forward.
"Put that down!"
The man shoved her backward.
Ivelle caught her before she fell.
"Don’t touch her."
The largest man turned toward Ivelle.
His eyes narrowed.
"And who are you?"
"Her friend."
"Then stay out of this."
"This is our shop."
The man gave a mocking smile.
"Not anymore."
Ivelle’s brows furrowed.
"What does that mean?"
"The land belongs to our master."
"We paid for this place."
"You paid to use it."
He stepped closer.
"That arrangement is over."
Liriel’s face tightened.
"Because I refused to marry him?"
The man smiled.
"At least you understand quickly."
Ivelle turned toward her friend.
"Liriel?"
Liriel looked away.
The man continued.
"Our master offered you marriage. You refused him."
"He didn’t offer me anything," Liriel snapped. "He expected me to accept because he owns the land."
"Call it whatever you want."
The man shrugged.
"You refused."
"And?"
"And this is what happens."
He gestured toward the destroyed stall.
Ivelle stared at him.
"You can’t simply destroy someone’s business because they refused a marriage proposal."
The man laughed.
"You’ve been in the capital for a year and still believe fairness matters?"
The words silenced her.
He turned to his men.
"Take the merchandise."
The men immediately began collecting everything they could carry.
Perfumes.
Herbs.
Jewelry.
Cloth.
Handmade decorations.
Everything they had spent months creating was being thrown into sacks.
Liriel’s eyes filled with tears.
"Please..."
One of the men glanced at her.
"Perhaps you should reconsider."
"No."
Her answer was quiet but firm.
The man shrugged.
"Then you’ll continue losing things."
He grabbed another box.
Liriel reached for it.
"That’s ours!"
He shoved her hand away.
Ivelle immediately stepped between them.
"Enough."
The man raised an eyebrow.
For a moment, it looked as though he might strike her.
Instead, he smiled.
"Tell your friend to reconsider the proposal."
He turned toward the street.
"And remember that the next time we come, we might not be so patient."
The three men disappeared into the crowd.
Ivelle and Liriel remained standing amid the wreckage.
Around them, the capital continued as though nothing had happened.
People walked past.
Merchants continued shouting their prices.
Carriages rolled over the stone road.
Nobody stopped to help.
Nobody even seemed surprised.
Liriel slowly sank onto an overturned wooden crate.
Her hands trembled.
"Ivelle..."
Ivelle crouched beside her.
"It’s going to be okay."
"We’ve lost almost everything."
"We’ll make it again."
"But what if they come back?"
"They won’t."
Liriel looked at her.
Ivelle wasn’t entirely certain of that.
But she smiled anyway.
"We’ll report them."
"To whom?"
"The authorities."
Liriel’s expression remained uncertain.
Ivelle gently squeezed her hand.
"We’ll figure something out."
After spending what remained of the afternoon cleaning what they could and gathering whatever merchandise had survived, they finally abandoned the ruined stall and began walking home.
The journey felt longer than usual.
Their steps were slow, their shoulders heavy, and neither had much to say.
By the time they reached their lodging, darkness had already begun to spread across the streets.
The moment they entered the courtyard, their landlady appeared.
Her expression immediately darkened.
"There you are."
Ivelle stopped.
"Good evening, Mrs. Vale."
"Good evening?"
The older woman crossed her arms.
"Do you know what day it is?"
Ivelle exchanged a glance with Liriel.
"Yes."
"Your rent."
Ivelle immediately reached into the small pouch tied around her waist.
"We haven’t forgotten."
"You always pay on the exact day."
Mrs. Vale clicked her tongue.
"Unlike the other tenants, you never pay ahead."
"We’ve always paid on time."
"On time isn’t the same as early."
Liriel frowned.
"But we’re not late."
Mrs. Vale glared at her.
"I know."
Ivelle counted the coins carefully before placing them into the woman’s waiting palm.
"Here."
Mrs. Vale counted them twice.
Only after confirming the amount did her expression ease slightly.
"At least you don’t owe me anything."
She turned away.
"And don’t make me come looking for you next month."
Ivelle lowered her gaze.
"We won’t."
Mrs. Vale walked away muttering beneath her breath.
Liriel waited until she was gone before whispering,
"She hates us."
Ivelle sighed.
"I think she hates everyone."
"She looks at us differently."
"Perhaps we’re imagining it."
Liriel wasn’t convinced, but she followed Ivelle upstairs.
Their room was small.
A very thin bed that still made them feel the bed.
A wooden table.
A small cooking area.
One window.
Nothing more.
Yet after a year, it had become home.
Ivelle closed the door behind them.
Both women stood in silence.
The day’s destruction suddenly felt heavier within those four walls.
Liriel sat on her bed.
Ivelle placed their remaining belongings on the table before turning toward her.
"It’s going to be okay."
Liriel looked up.
"You keep saying that."
"Because it’s true."
"Is it?"
Ivelle hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"Tomorrow, I’ll report those men."
"And then?"
"I’m going to the heart of the capital."
Liriel’s brows furrowed.
"Why?"
"Because there are better opportunities there."
Ivelle sat beside her.
"We’ve been struggling here for a year. Maybe we’ve been looking in the wrong place."
"The heart of the capital?"
"Yes."
Liriel stared at her worriedly.
"I’ve heard stories about that place."
"So have I."
"Then why go?"
"Because we need better work."
Ivelle looked down at her hands.
"We can’t keep surviving like this."
Liriel remained silent.
Then she sighed.
"I’m coming with you."
Ivelle looked at her.
"No."
"I didn’t ask."
"Liriel."
"I’m coming."
"You don’t know what it’s like there."
"Neither do you."
"Exactly."
"Then we go together."
Ivelle stared at her friend.
She already knew that expression.
Liriel had made up her mind.
There was no changing it.
"You really won’t let me go alone, will you?"
"No."
Ivelle sighed.
"Fine."
Liriel smiled faintly.
"Good."
They prepared for the night, neither realizing that their decision had already begun steering them toward something far more dangerous than a ruined stall.
The following morning, they left early.
They walked toward the heart of the capital with cautious optimism, carrying their hopes like fragile possessions.
But the farther they went, the more the city changed.
The streets became wider.
The buildings became taller.
The crowds became denser.
And the faces around them became harder to read.
The heart of the capital was nothing like the district they knew.
It was wealthier.
Louder.
More beautiful.
And somehow...
Far more frightening.
Ivelle slowed.
Liriel’s fingers tightened around hers.
Neither woman spoke.
They simply stared ahead.
For the first time since arriving in the capital, they both wished they had never come.
But more was to come!