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Chapter 12 - Rabbet Roast.

Chapter 12 - Rabbet Roast.

With money now in hand, Rose could finally stock the pantry, so to speak. For the time being, she wouldn’t need to rely on the old woman’s meals every day. Of course, the irony wasn’t lost on her: the old woman would still be providing their nourishment, just in a different way.

Rose allowed herself a moment of hope. She could buy food, new clothes, and even send Dahlia to school. A year of tuition at the Marchécole would cost about three Argines, and even after that expense, two of those precious silver coins would remain in her newfound purse. More than enough to indulge in a few luxuries—a real mattress, for instance. Not the straw stuffed in an itchy sheet she had endured for years, but something soft and warm. She could even afford a second bed, giving them both some space at night. Although, perhaps it would be better to wait until the weather grew warmer. Winter was around the corner again, but they could keep the fires burning through the night this year.

With these plans in mind, Rose told her boss she needed a couple of days off to handle things at home. He was reluctant at first, but after some prodding, he relented. He even made a snide remark, reminding her that she’d been hired only because she was cheap—a fact that made her realize that she was likely only hired to line his pockets. She was the only staff after all. Disappointing, but not upsetting, she did need the job. He did deny her a raise though. That was upsetting. Still she figured she could find another now that she wasn't panicking about money because of the old woman’s death..

The incident stirred a change in Rose. It wasn’t just the money; it was the realization of how stagnant her life had become. She had allowed herself to drift, caught in a rhythm of mere survival, a routine of hollow contentment that led nowhere. But now, she couldn’t be content anymore. She had to find something better, for herself and for Dahlia.

The next day, Rose woke early, waiting for Dahlia to rise. She sat by the small window, watching the faint light of dawn spill into the room, her thoughts drifting to the day ahead. When the little girl finally stirred and rubbed her eyes, Rose greeted her with a warm smile.

“What’s for breakfast?” Dahlia asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

Rose crouched beside her bed and brushed a stray hair from her face. “We’re going out tonight,” she said, her voice light with excitement. “We need to do a bit of shopping.”

“Shopping?” Dahlia’s eyes widened, the word unfamiliar yet exciting.

“That’s right,” Rose said, her smile softening. “We need to get a few things—including new clothes for you. Because…” she paused for effect, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you’re going to school soon!”

Dahlia blinked, then tilted her head in confusion. “School?”

Rose nodded, her smile growing. “That’s right. You must get so bored sitting at home all day while I’m at work. I finally have enough money to send you to school. You’ll have something fun to do every day! And you’ll get to play with a bunch of kids your age.”

“Other kids?” Dahlia’s tone brightened, her curiosity flickering into excitement.

“Yes, sweetie. A growing girl needs friends,” Rose said, gently taking her small hands. “And at school, you’ll learn so many things. More than what they taught in the village. You’ll learn math, how to count, and how to read properly. And when you finish, you’ll get a certificate. That means you’ll never have to worry about money when you’re older.”

Dahlia tilted her head again, her smile fading. “Do we have to worry about money now?”

Rose froze, the question hitting her harder than she expected. Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t find the words. Dahlia’s wide, searching eyes seemed to see too much. Rose forced a laugh, ruffling the girl’s hair. “No, sweetie, not at all,” she said, standing abruptly. “Now go get ready. We’re going to eat something really yummy!”

Dahlia’s concern melted into a cheerful squeal as she hurried off to prepare, her laughter ringing through the small house.

Rose’s smile lingered for a moment, then slipped away. She glanced at the coin purse hidden in her pocket, her fingers curling protectively around it. For the first time in years, she felt the stirrings of hope, but they were laced with a familiar unease.

As they stepped outside, Rose felt a lightness she hadn’t known in years. The two of them walked toward the main market, their spirits high. But as they passed the corner where the old woman’s house stood, Rose cast a glance in that direction. Her heart sank.

The vultures were there alright—neighbors and strangers alike—picking the house clean, taking whatever they wanted without care or respect. Laughing all the way. Rose turned away quickly, guilt twisting in her chest. She clutched the purse tighter in her pocket.

“Aunty Rosie?” Dahlia’s small voice broke through her thoughts.

Rose glanced down and saw Dahlia’s curious eyes darting toward the house. Rose forced a smile and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on, darling. Let’s not be late for the market,” she said, her voice light but strained.

Without another word, they quickened their pace, leaving the laughter and chaos behind.

The main market of Marchenne was a massive pillar of industry and economy. There was nothing else like it—a bustling hub of trade and wealth. It lay far in the west of the city, where the nobles enjoyed an area defined by prestige and opulence. It was a place well beyond any budget Rose could ever hope to manage. Instead, they went to the closer, more affordable market in the workers’ district.

This market was less expensive, and while the items for sale weren’t glamorous, they were practical—the perfect place for the city’s residents to shop. The perfect place for a poor commoner like Rose, closer to home and kinder to thin purses

The workers’ market was a vibrant splash of life amid the drab surroundings of the district. Tents of every color flapped in the breeze, their bold hues painted with symbols and names designed to catch the eye. Stalls spilled into the narrow streets, packed tightly around an arid fountain that depicted the city’s eighth mayor—a forgotten figure no one seemed to recognize. Vendors shouted their wares, their voices blending into a cacophony of haggling and laughter.

Dahlia’s eyes widened as she took in the scene. Her little face lit up with wonder, her mouth hanging open as she turned in every direction, trying to take it all in. Rose smiled faintly at the sight, squeezing Dahlia’s hand to keep her close.

For Rose, the market wasn’t new, but being here with enough money to truly shop was a foreign experience. She’d only ever come here before for the bare necessities—or to press her nose against the window of a shop displaying the magical washing machine she couldn’t afford. Her heart fluttered at the thought. For the first time, she had enough money to buy one. Excitement sparked in her chest, but she quickly shook the idea away, squeezing Dahlia’s hand a little tighter.

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No. She had more important things to do now. Disappointing as it was, she’d made her choice long ago.

“The first thing we should get you,” Rose said, glancing down at Dahlia’s threadbare clothes, “is a few changes of clothes—something practical that brings out your cuteness!” She reached down to pinch Dahlia’s cheeks playfully.

“Hey! Ow!” Dahlia giggled, swiping at Rose’s hand with mock indignation.

Rose chuckled. “To get clothes, though, we’ll need to find a shop.” She looked around the market, scanning the maze of stalls, but quickly realized she wasn’t sure who might sell children’s clothing.

As she searched, a savory aroma caught her attention, drawing her gaze toward a corner of the market. Following the scent, she spotted a quaint little eatery tucked between two larger stalls. Calling it a restaurant felt generous—it was more of an open-window kitchen with a few mismatched tables set up under a faded awning. Still, it was practical and efficient, catering perfectly to the market’s busy crowd.

“Let’s grab something to eat first,” Rose said, gently tugging Dahlia toward the counter. She knelt beside the girl and smiled. “What looks good to you?”

Dahlia stared at the menu hanging above the counter, her brow furrowing in concentration. She glanced at Rose, then back at the board, her lips moving silently as though trying to puzzle out the words.

Rose’s heart sank. Reading was still a luxury here, one that Dahlia hadn’t yet had the chance to fully grasp. Smiling reassuringly, she placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “How about I pick for us?” she said gently, giving the menu a quick scan.

The server behind the counter wiped their hands on an apron and leaned closer. “What’ll it be?”

“Two plates of braised rabbit with spiced grains,” Rose said, her tone polite but firm.

“Good choice,” the server replied with a nod, turning back to the kitchen.

Rose stood and ruffled Dahlia’s hair. “You’re going to love this,” she said with a smile, her tone light and encouraging.

Dahlia beamed, her earlier uncertainty melting into hungry anticipation.

As she handed over the coins, Rose leaned in and asked the server, “Do you know where I could find proper clothes for a child?” She gestured toward Dahlia, who was perched on her toes, craning her neck to watch the bustling market with wide-eyed curiosity.

The server glanced between them and shrugged. “Ben’s got a place a couple windows over, by the Myriad Café. Look for the sign with a needle and thread. He doesn’t really sell ready-made clothes for kids, but he’s got plenty of cloth to spare. You might not get what you need right away, but it’ll be cheap enough.”

The server ran a hand over the table bringing the coins though the window. “If you’re looking for something more immediate, Madam Henish might have a few things, but she’s expensive. Think she sells to nobles or something.”

“I see. Thank you,” Rose said with a polite nod.

“No problem. Grab a table, and we’ll bring your food out shortly.”

Rose guided Dahlia to an empty table, where the little girl climbed onto the bench with a delighted grin. Her excitement bubbled over as she chattered about everything she’d seen—the brightly colored tents, the noisy vendors, and the fountain with the broken statue.

Rose listened with a faint smile, though her mind was elsewhere. Ben’s shop sounded practical, but they’d have to wait for custom orders. Madam Henish, on the other hand, could provide faster results, though at a price that made Rose’s stomach twist. Drumming her fingers on the worn wooden table, she weighed their options carefully.

“Let’s go to Ben’s place after our food,” Rose said, more to herself than to Dahlia. “If he can’t help us, we can try Madam Henish’s.”

“Okay!” Dahlia cheered

Rose chuckled softly. “We’ll see, darling.”

Just then, their food arrived.

“That was quick,” Rose commented as the server placed the plates on the table.

“Yeah, chef’s been cooking ahead of time, trying to keep up with all that fast food nonsense going on in Les Enclos,” the server scoffed, shaking his head. “People don’t want to sit down anymore. It’s a disgrace.”

“Thank you,” Rose called after him, her tone polite but distracted. She turned to Dahlia with a smile. “Alright, let’s eat!”

“Yay!” Dahlia echoed, her enthusiasm lighting up the table.

The meal was nothing short of delightful—braised rabbit, tender and flavorful, its juices mingling with the delicate spices of the grains beneath it. The rabbit had been cooked to perfection, its meat falling apart at the touch of a fork. The grains were soft but not mushy, seasoned with cinnamon, clove, and a hint of pepper that left a subtle warmth lingering on the tongue. Scattered among the grains were vibrant vegetables—carrots and parsnips, roasted until their natural sweetness shone through.

Dahlia’s eyes widened as she took her first bite, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk’s as she hurriedly chewed and scooped up another forkful. “This is so good!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled by a full mouth.

Rose laughed softly, savoring her own portion at a slower pace. The spices danced on her tongue, a welcome change from the bland stews and simple bread that had defined her meals for so long. For once, they were eating like queens. Well, maybe not; what queen eats rabbit?

As they ate, the market bustled around them, the hum of life and trade filling the air. Rose allowed herself a rare moment of contentment, letting the warmth of the food and Dahlia’s bright laughter soothe her lingering worries. For a brief moment, all was right in the world.

All because an old woman died.

There it was. The thought that shattered her fragile peace. Rose’s lips stiffened.

“Something wrong?” Dahlia asked, her voice soft but sharp with concern. She picked up on Rose’s emotions far too quickly.

Rose forced a smile, shaking her head. “Nothing, darling. Nothing. Just… remembered a joke.”

“A joke?” Dahlia tilted her head curiously, her fork pausing over her plate.

Rose let out a short, unamused laugh. “It wasn’t that funny,” she said quickly, waving it off. “Anyway, finish your food, and we’ll head to the store. I think we can find some cute outfits for you,” she added, her tone brightening with forced cheerfulness.

Her words worked. Dahlia’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “Okay!” she chirped, quickly polishing off the remainder of her meal.

Rose watched her with a mix of pride and amusement until Dahlia suddenly pointed at her plate. “Aunty Rosie, aren’t you going to finish yours?” she asked, her wide eyes darting to the unfinished meal in front of her.

Rose blinked, glancing down at her plate. She’d eaten a few bites, but she hadn’t had a proper meal in years. Even with the old woman’s help, she’d always prioritized Dahlia, giving her the entire plate. She had to, after all the young girl arrived skilly and malnourished. She filled out in the past few months, her cheeks no longer hollow, her arms no longer spindly. She could finish a full meal without hesitation now.

It was inspiring, in a way.

A rare, genuine smile crept onto Rose’s lips. “No, I’m not that hungry,” she said softly. “I’ve never been a big eater,” she lied smoothly.

Dahlia hesitated, glancing between Rose and the plate. “Can… can I have it?” she finally asked, her voice hesitant, as if afraid she was asking for too much.

This caused Rose’s heart to sink a little. She thought they had gotten close, but perhaps that was hoping for too much. “Of course,” Rose said warmly, sliding the plate toward her. “You’re a growing kid, after all.”

Dahlia beamed, pulling the plate closer. “Thank you, Aunty Rosie!” she chirped before digging in with enthusiasm.

Rose watched her eat, her heart heavy yet light at the same time. She wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing—if she was making the right choices—but seeing Dahlia happy and healthy made it easier to believe she was.