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Elysia, who lived now as Ariel found her new life surprisingly peaceful. She wasn’t particularly skilled at the daily chores Claire gave her; in fact, she was hopeless at most of them. After a few failed attempts, Claire had given up teaching her and simply did everything herself. Not once did she complain. If anything, she seed to enjoy doting on Elysia.

Her fondness only deepened the day she discovered the one thing Elysia could do effortlessly, lace weaving. Her fingers worked as if they’d been trained for decades. Every pattern was delicate and precise, like art woven into thread.

Their ho echoed with laughter over ti. They had gotten used to one another. Elysia never asked questions, though sowhere deep inside, a quiet emptiness lingered like a part of her had been misplaced.

The old woman’s na was Claire. She had once truly had a daughter nad Ariel, a bright-eyed child who had disappeared in the forest years ago while playing. Despite what everyone else believed, Claire had never accepted her daughter’s disappearance not even her late husband could convince her otherwise.

She had always believed Ariel was still out there, hidden in the woods, and when Elysia appeared that day, injured and lost, she believed the forest had finally returned her daughter. No matter how unlikely, Claire welcod the fantasy wholeheartedly.

Claire was a skilled weaver. She earned her living crafting intricate lacework, often venturing deep into the woods to collect silk from the cocoons she used. It was solitary work, but she loved it and now, she had soone to share it with.

Word spread quickly around the village about Claire’s mysterious daughter. While few believed the striking young woman who followed Claire around was truly hers, no one said a thing. Claire seed genuinely happy for the first ti since her husband passed, and the villagers respected her grief too much to question it aloud.

Before they knew it, two years had passed. In all that ti, Elysia hadn’t once felt the flicker of her powers or suspected anything about who she really was.

"I’ll be heading out now," Ariel’s voice rang from the doorway. She was off to the town square to sell the lace they’d finished for the week and pick up supplies.

Claire was elbow-deep in kitchen chores when she heard her. Her face softened imdiately, and she wiped her hands on a cloth before walking to the door. The stranger she had co to love like a daughter stood there, wrapped in a faded scarf. Even in Claire’s old dresses, Ariel looked radiant. She would still stand out even if she wore rags.

"I’m nearly done with lunch. Don’t stay out too long or it’ll go cold," Claire said, slipping a copper coin into her palm.

Ariel frowned and pushed it back. "You don’t have to, I can walk."

"Just take it. It might rain, and I don’t want you catching a cold," Claire insisted. "You’re too beautiful, dear. Those sneaky boys will get all kinds of strange ideas if they see you walking alone. Hire a trolley to take you."

Ariel sighed, relenting as she tucked the coin into her pocket. "Fine. I won’t be long."

She stepped outside, tightening the scarf around her head to keep it in place.

"Don’t forget to grab so bread on your way back!" Claire called after her with a wave.

The walk to the town square wasn’t long just a short path through their neighbor’s farmland. Usually, the farr’s sons would be in the fields around this ti, hollering teasing remarks at Ariel. She hated the attention but tolerated it because their mother often gifted her and Claire vegetables.

Today, though, the fields were empty.

Odd.

A few more steps brought her to the edge of the square, and she was instantly struck by how lively it was. Carriages much finer than usual lined the streets. Horses trotted by with ribbons tied to their bridles. Sothing big was happening.

Still, she had errands to run.

She made her way to the seamstress’s shop. A small bell rang as she stepped inside, but no one looked up. The seamstress was too busy chatting excitedly with her daughter-in-law.

"The whole town’s going to be there tonight! Even the magistrate’s got all the young n competing can you imagine?" the seamstress giggled.

Ariel’s brows furrowed. What’s happening tonight?

She cleared her throat. "Mrs. Brown? I brought the new laces."

Startled, the seamstress turned. "Oh, goodness! I didn’t hear you co in, dear."

Ariel smiled and stepped forward, placing a woven basket on the counter.

"They’re new designs," she added as the seamstress and her daughter-in-law excitedly combed through the contents.

"These are lovely!" the seamstress exclaid. "You’re more talented than your mother, I’ll say that. I could use this to make a dress for the main city. I hear Duchess Rebecca adores lace."

The village belonged to the Vesper duchy, and the "main city" was the city of Vesper. Ariel’s lips curled into a quiet smile. "I’m not sure if the duchess will, but maybe a few nobles would appreciate them."

The seamstress sent her daughter-in-law to fetch the paynt while still admiring the pieces.

"How’s your mother doing?" she asked.

"She’s doing well," Ariel replied, though her mind drifted back to the earlier gossip.

The seamstress bead. "That’s good. You know, Ariel, you should think about selling your lace in the city. My sister runs a store there. With production like this, you’d make a fortune."

Just then, the daughter-in-law returned with the paynt. Ariel accepted it gratefully. It was more than enough to feed them for the week and maybe save a bit for raw materials.

"Thank you," she said, turning to leave.

The seamstress called out one more ti. "Oh! There’s a performance at the magistrate’s estate tonight. Nobles from the capital will be there. You should attend! Who knows? You might catch soone’s eye."

That explained the buzz in town. Ariel’s eyes widened slightly this sort of excitent was rare in their quiet little village.

She nodded politely, hiding the small spark of curiosity that lit in her chest.

Tonight would be interesting.

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