After parting from Ivelle, Liriel had only one thought occupying her mind: she needed to find work.
Not eventually.
Not tomorrow.
Today.
She had promised Ivelle that she would return with something useful, and more importantly, she had made the promise to herself. After everything they had endured during their first year in the capital, she could not bear the thought of returning to the Golden Lantern with nothing to show for the hours she had spent searching.
She adjusted the strap of her bag against her shoulder and continued down the crowded street.
Unlike Ivelle, who had immediately sought out inns and restaurants, Liriel decided to search wherever she saw an establishment that appeared capable of paying its workers well. The heart of the capital was filled with businesses she had never seen in Briarhollow, and perhaps that was where her opportunity would be waiting.
Her first stop was a jewelry shop.
The establishment stood behind enormous glass windows, its interior illuminated by enchanted lamps that caused every necklace, bracelet, and gemstone to sparkle beneath the ceiling. Liriel slowed outside, staring for a moment at the delicate pieces arranged within the cases.
She had never seen so much wealth gathered in one place.
Taking a breath, she stepped inside.
A bell chimed softly above the door.
A woman dressed in an elegant burgundy gown stood behind the main counter, speaking to a wealthy-looking customer. Liriel waited patiently until their conversation ended before approaching.
"Excuse me, ma’am," she said. "I wanted to ask whether you happen to need another pair of hands."
The woman looked at her from head to toe.
"What sort of hands?"
"I can arrange merchandise, keep the shop clean, attend to customers, wrap purchases, and keep records if you teach me."
The woman’s expression remained unreadable.
"Have you worked in a jewelry shop before?"
"No, ma’am."
"Then you don’t understand what you’re asking."
Liriel frowned slightly.
"I am willing to learn."
"This is not the sort of business where we allow inexperienced people to handle valuable merchandise."
"I wouldn’t have to handle anything expensive at first."
The woman gave a faint smile.
"You are confident."
"I am desperate," Liriel replied honestly. "There is a difference."
For the first time, the woman’s expression softened.
"I believe you. Unfortunately, belief does not make you qualified."
Liriel swallowed her disappointment.
"Would you allow me to leave my name?"
"There is no vacancy."
"But if one becomes available—"
"We already have several applicants waiting."
Liriel nodded.
"I understand. Thank you for listening to me."
She left before the disappointment on her face became too obvious.
Outside, she glanced at the towering buildings around her.
One refusal.
It wasn’t enough to discourage her.
She continued.
Her next attempt was at a textile merchant’s establishment.
Unlike the jewelry shop, this place was overflowing with customers. Bolts of brightly colored fabric were stacked from floor to ceiling, while workers hurried between tables carrying measurements, ribbons, and bundles of cloth.
Liriel waited until one of the attendants became free.
"I am looking for employment," she explained. "Would your establishment happen to need another worker?"
The attendant looked at her curiously.
"What can you do?"
"I sew."
"Professionally?"
"Not professionally."
The attendant gave a small shrug.
"Then we can’t use you."
"I can learn."
"Everyone says that."
"I am serious."
"So are the other twenty people who come here every week."
Liriel fell silent.
The attendant returned to folding a length of fabric.
"If you have experience, come back with proof of it."
"I don’t have anyone who can give me a recommendation."
"Then you will have to find someone who can."
Liriel nodded reluctantly.
"Thank you."
She left.
The second rejection stung more than the first.
Not because the woman had been cruel, but because Liriel was beginning to understand what made the capital so difficult.
Talent alone was not enough.
People wanted names.
References.
Connections.
Proof that someone important could vouch for you.
And Liriel had none of those things.
Still, she kept moving.
A little farther down the street, she noticed a small apothecary.
The shelves inside were lined with glass bottles containing strange-colored liquids, bundles of dried plants, powders, and sealed jars whose labels were written in handwriting she couldn’t decipher.
This time, she felt more confident.
She and Ivelle had spent months selling herbs and scented products.
Perhaps this was somewhere her experience would actually matter.
She entered and approached the elderly man standing behind the counter.
"I have experience handling herbs," she said. "I can identify some medicinal plants, prepare simple mixtures, clean the shelves, and assist customers."
The old man looked interested.
"Where did you learn?"
"My friend and I used to sell herbs."
"Where?"
"In a small district outside the heart of the capital."
The man’s interest disappeared.
"Do you have formal training?"
"No."
"Then you cannot work here."
Liriel’s shoulders dropped.
"I understand."
The man studied her for a moment before adding, "You may try the market stalls. They have less concern for qualifications."
Liriel managed a faint smile.
"Thank you for the advice."
She stepped back outside.
At least that man had given her advice instead of simply dismissing her.
She followed his suggestion and made her way toward the market.
The next few hours became a blur of questions, negotiations, and disappointment.
At one food stall, the owner offered her work for barely enough money to cover a single meal.
"I need someone from morning until midnight," he told her.
Liriel stared at him.
"Until midnight?"
"You want work or you don’t?"
"I do, but that is nearly the entire day."
"You are young. You can handle it."
"And how much would I be paid?"
The man named an amount so low that Liriel wondered if she had heard him correctly.
"That is for the entire day?"
"Yes."
"Could you pay a little more?"
The man laughed.
"If you want better wages, find a better job."
Liriel thanked him and walked away.
At another stall, she was told she could work only if she paid a small fee for "registration."
When she asked what the fee was for, the owner became irritated.
"If you don’t trust me, then don’t work here."
Liriel immediately left.
She had learned enough about the capital to know that desperation was something people could smell.
And there were always people willing to take advantage of it.
By late afternoon, the confidence she had started the day with had almost disappeared.
Her feet hurt from walking.
Her stomach had begun to ache with hunger.
She had stopped counting how many places she had approached because every refusal was beginning to sound the same.
Still, she refused to turn back.
She passed through another narrow street, her gaze moving from one establishment to another, searching for anything that might offer her an opportunity.
Then she saw it.
A sign.
It stood outside a narrow building tucked between two larger establishments.
WORKERS WANTED.
Liriel slowed.
Her eyes remained fixed on the words.
Workers.
The word alone made her heart jump.
She approached the small desk positioned near the entrance, where a middle-aged man sat with a thick ledger open before him.
He looked up when she stopped.
"Are you looking for work?" he asked.
"Yes," Liriel replied immediately.
His gaze moved over her.
"Are you certain you can work?"
Liriel frowned slightly.
"Yes. I can."
"The work can be demanding," he warned.
"I don’t mind."
"It may require working late."
"I can do that."
The man studied her for another moment before dipping his pen into a small bottle of ink.
"Then give me your name."
Liriel hesitated only briefly before answering.
"Liriel Sterling."
He wrote it down.
He asked where she lived, whether she had previous experience, and what sort of work she could perform. Unlike the other employers she had encountered that day, he did not seem particularly interested in her lack of experience.
When he finished writing, he closed the ledger.
Liriel smiled with relief.
"Thank you. I’ll return later."
The man looked at her strangely.
"Return later?"
"Yes," Liriel said. "I have somewhere I need to be first."
"You don’t need to go anywhere."
Liriel’s smile faded.
"What do you mean?"
"You registered to work," the man said. "You begin today."
Liriel stared at him.
"Today?"
"Immediately." He affirmed.
She glanced toward the other women gathered nearby.
"Is that how it works?" She asked him again.
"That’s how it works here."
Something about his answer unsettled her.
She had expected to return after meeting Ivelle, perhaps prepare herself, and then come back when she was ready.
Instead, they expected her to leave immediately.
She took a small step backward.
"I’m sorry, but I need to speak with my friend first."
Before the man could respond, one of the young women nearby approached her.
"Don’t worry," the girl said gently.
Liriel turned toward her.
The girl smiled.
"I understand why you’re hesitant. I was the same when I first came here."
"You’ve worked here before?" Liriel asked.
"Several times."
The girl’s smile widened.
"My friend works here. She was the one who told me about this place."
Liriel glanced toward the building.
"Is the work good?"
"It pays better than most places around here," the girl replied. "And when you need work, you can’t afford to be too selective."
Liriel lowered her gaze.
The girl’s words struck a familiar place inside her.
She was right.
Liriel had spent the entire day being rejected because she lacked experience, references, or connections.
Yet here, someone was willing to give her work without demanding any of those things.
Perhaps she had simply been too suspicious because she was unfamiliar with the arrangement.
She looked toward the street.
The sun was nearly gone.
If she left now, she would return to the Golden Lantern empty-handed.
If she stayed, at least she would have something to tell Ivelle.
"I’ll come," Liriel finally said.
The girl smiled.
"Good. You won’t regret it."
A carriage was waiting nearby.
Several women were already climbing inside.
Liriel hesitated beside it.
For reasons she could not explain, a strange uneasiness had settled in her stomach.
She looked back toward the direction of the Golden Lantern.
She should tell Ivelle.
She should at least leave a message.
But the thought of losing the opportunity frightened her more.
She climbed into the carriage.
The young woman followed and sat beside her.
The door closed.
A moment later, the carriage began moving.
Liriel watched the capital through the small window as the familiar streets slowly disappeared behind them.
"Where exactly are we going?" she asked.
The girl beside her shrugged.
"They’ll tell us when we arrive."
Liriel frowned. That answer did little to calm her.
She leaned closer to the window, trying to recognize the streets they passed, but the capital quickly became unfamiliar.
The brilliant shops disappeared.
The crowded streets became quieter.
The buildings changed.
Liriel slowly sat back.
Something was wrong.
She could feel it.
But before she could question anyone, a strange heaviness began spreading through her body.
She blinked several times.
Her vision blurred.
She rubbed her eyes and tried to sit straighter.
I’m simply tired.
That had to be it.
She had walked for hours.
She had barely eaten.
Anyone would feel exhausted.
Yet the dizziness continued to grow.
Liriel looked around.
One of the women across from her had already fallen asleep against the side of the carriage.
Another’s head had dropped forward.
The girl beside her had also closed her eyes.
Liriel’s heartbeat quickened.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
No one answered.
She reached toward the woman beside her and gently shook her shoulder.
The woman did not respond.
A wave of dizziness suddenly struck Liriel so violently that she had to grip the edge of the seat.
Her breathing became shallow.
She tried to stand but her legs refused to cooperate.
"Stop the carriage," she whispered.
Her voice was barely audible.
She reached toward the door, but her fingers slipped from the handle.
The world around her began to sway.
The last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her was the unfamiliar road stretching endlessly ahead.
Then her body went limp.
And the carriage continued deeper into the heart of the capital, carrying its sleeping passengers farther from the place where they believed they were going to work.