“Lord Silvio Knows where you are already,” Sarah spoke with a little disinterest as she looked between the two of them. “Lightroot was quite insistent in that little aid and she is quite the little hopeful, so we obliged.”

He already knows… the words hit Rose with a bit of force, taking what little strength she had left away. She soon found herself sitting back on the bed. “So I've been fired.”

“Fired?” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “No, the guild takes care of its own, and it's not like Lightroot ever asked for anything before. So we helped her family, a little.” she added the last words like it was something annoying, but easy.

Must be nice.

“Who's Lightroot?” Rose looked at the young girl, already aware but wanted to confirm all the same.

“That's me!” Dahlia answered with a big smile. “Everyone has a nickname they use in the guild!” she beamed at Rose seemingly expecting some praise.

Rose looked back at Sarah instead, causing Dahlia to deflate, just a little. “You say you’ve healed me, took precautions to keep my job safe and look after me all because a little girl asked you to?”

“I'm not a little girl anymore!” Dahlia complained but Rose held her gaze with Sarah.

“Like I said, she's a little hopeful.” It was so matter of factly stated that Rose would have believed her, if not for that sly little smile this fox of a woman slipped on her lips. “Although the guild does have conditions for you, as you are her mother.”

Rose looked at Dahlia who faltered a little. Then the girl hugged her again. Looking into her eyes she said, “Mom.” it was cute, obvious, but cute.

“So,” Rose said, looking back at the administrator, “The conditions?”

“Lightroot is smart, clever and has received a small education that's clear.” Sarah began while Rose found it oddly annoying that smart and clever basically meant the same thing. “She's quick to pick things up and has never failed a task. To be frank, she could be one of the best recruits we have this year.”

“So you want me to allow her to remain in the guild, even after you issued her without parental knowledge.”

Sarah’s mouth twitched. “I see you also know a thing or two.”

“I work in a library. Coping a lot of books. Books of law are one of the most often copied due to changes or additions, but in my entire job working there the law about children working under the guild has yet to be changed.”

“Yes, well Lightroot did say her mother was dead.”

“Did she now?” Rose looked at Dahlia, poking her cheek sharply.

“I- I'm sorry mommy.” she hesitantly said. “I just knew you needed help.”

Flicking Dahlia on the nose Rose said, “we will talk about that later, for now I take it this little adventure of ours will cost me a Statement Of Release.”

“Free from a Magically Binding of course.”

“Of course.” Rose tried to keep her eyes from rolling. Of course it wouldn't be magically binding, they wanted to back date it. Still it worked out well for them as well. She looked back at Dahlia. “I need to talk to…my daughter---alone if you don't mind.”

“I'm sure you have a lot to talk about.” Sarah said before she gave them a nod. “Very well, I shall be available once you are ready to sign the Statement.” With that the woman left the room with a small, uninterested “Take care.” leaving Rose and Dahlia alone.

The room was still for a long moment, the only sound the faint crackle of distant activity beyond the room could be heard. Dahlia clung tightly to Rose, her small hands gripping the fabric of her dress as if afraid to let go. But her eyes remained pointedly away, as if the young girl was afraid.

Rose mused about what happened in this silence. The last thing she remembered was going to sleep, much like they are now. Yet she woke up five days later and her hand was healed, almost completely so---her finger was a little askew… she thought.

With a long breath Rose broke the silence. “Dahlia.” the girl flinched at her own name. “When exactly did you get expelled from school?”

Dahlia hesitated. “I got expelled four weeks ago,” she admitted. “The same day you paid off the loan.”

Rose’s stomach tightened, her chest constricting. “How do you know about that?” she asked.

“You’re not very good at keeping secrets,” she said, letting out a small, nervous giggle. “You’re the one who taught me how to read, remember?”

Rose blinked, trying to understand what she meant and then it hit her, “the ledger…” She whispered out in understanding. her voice was barely audible. Money was very hard to track without some help so she had bound a small book for herself. Blank pages, not enough to be noticed but enough to allow her to track her funds. To plan and save.

She kept it at work at first, then Felix grew more and more disturbed by his childs pregnancy, asking her every question he could think of, she often thought he hired her for that reason alone. It wasn't safe there, so she brought it home, but Dahlia was right. She had taught her how to read. She had been careless.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“I have a hard time hearing you sometimes,” Dahlia continued, her tone matter-of-fact, though her small hands fidgeted nervously with the fabric of Rose’s dress. “But Boris is loud. Really loud.”

Rose’s heart wrenched at the thought. She asked hesitantly, “You didn’t hear everything, did you?”

Dahlia didn’t answer, but the flicker of tension gave Rose all the confirmation she needed. Deep down, she had already known the answer. Of course she knew that door wasn't thick. What child wouldn't be curious.

She heard everything.

“It’s okay,” Dahlia said quickly, her voice breaking through Rose’s spiraling thoughts. “I’ve been working with the guild for a bit, earning money. More than enough to pay the next few installments.”

Rose’s heart sank. The word installments sounded so wrong coming from the lips of a child. Her mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come. Finally, she managed, “There’s nothing for you to worry about—”

“Of course I should worry about it!” Dahlia interrupted, her voice rising. “I can’t just sit around all day and watch you suffer!” She almost shouted, her small frame trembling with barely contained frustration.

“I’m not suffering,” Rose tried to insist, but her voice wavered.

“I am not a child anymore,” Dahlia said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and frustration. “You didn’t break your hand falling, and you haven’t been pulling your hair out for no reason, Auntie Rose. I’ve already lost my mom and dad… I don’t want to lose you too.”

The words struck Rose like a dagger to the heart. Her lips parted, but for a moment, no sound came. A lump rose in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Finally, she forced out a whisper, “Your parents are on their way—”

“No.” Dahlia shook her head firmly, her voice unwavering. “I’m not stupid, and you know that.”

Her expression softened, but there was no hesitation in her words. “I figured it out a long time ago. Even if I didn’t want to accept it… even when hearing you lie to me about it made it easier—made me believe, even for just one more second—it’s too late now.” She inhaled sharply, steeling herself. “I know the truth. They’re gone. You and I both know that.”

Rose’s throat tightened painfully. She could only nod, her voice failing her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely audible. “I wish I could have told you sooner—”

“It’s all right,” Dahlia cut in again, her voice gentler now. “No—it’s not all right.” Her breath hitched as she pushed herself off the bed, turning to face Rose with tears welling in her eyes. “How could you lie to me like that?”

Rose flinched at the accusation, guilt settling deep in her chest.

Dahlia wiped at her eyes with the heel of her palm before whispering, “How could you keep pretending when you knew the truth? How could Dad leave me?” Her voice cracked. “Why did he leave? Did he not want me anymore?”

For a moment, she seemed so small—just a child, standing in the dimly lit room, hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides.

“Mom died, but Dad… Dad just left.” Dahlia looked down at her hands, her shoulders stiff. “He just left.”

Rose swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your father—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dahlia interrupted, shaking her head as fresh tears streamed down her face.

“But…” Rose tried to say something but Dahlia waved it off.

“I told you I don't care, you are all I have left in the world Auntie. I know it's not been easy but please for once let me help. I'm really good at this. I can help. I am helping.”

“I told you, I don’t care.” She sniffled, rubbing at her face before lifting her gaze. Her eyes, red and swollen, locked onto Rose with a quiet intensity. “You’re all I have left in the world, Auntie. I know it hasn’t been easy, but please, just once—let me help.”

Her voice cracked, but her determination didn’t waver. “I’m good at this. I always pick the right plants, I always collect just enough. I can help. I am helping.”

Rose’s chest tightened. “But it’s too dangerous.”

Dahlia shrugged. “It’s all right. Most of the kids are grouped together and overseen by an adventurer. We do simple, repetitive tasks—collecting. It’s not dangerous—it’s just labor. And it pays well.”

Rose frowned deeply. “What kind of collecting?”

“Herbs, seeds, flowers—whatever we’re tasked with,” Dahlia answered.

“In the forest?” Rose’s stomach twisted with unease.

Dahlia nodded, rubbing her cheek against the bed in an almost casual, childlike gesture. “Yes, the forest outside the gate. But we have an adventurer with us to make sure everyone’s safe.”

Rose sat up sharply, her body tense. “You can’t go to the forest,” she said, her voice low but firm. “It’s dangerous.”

Dahlia hesitated before responding softly, “It’s five Étain a day.”

Rose blinked, stunned. “Five Étain?” she repeated.

Dahlia nodded. “Yes. That’s the lowest I make—a day.”

Rose opened her mouth to argue but hesitated, her thoughts swirling. She closed it again, unsure of what to say. Finally, she managed, “But it’s dangerous. And you’re just a child. I can’t put you in that kind of risk.”

Dahlia’s expression hardened. “Other children do it,” she countered quickly. “We work together to gather everything. It’s not as bad as you think.”

“But—” Rose started, only for the words to catch in her throat as Dahlia slipped out of bed. The girl turned to face her, standing firm despite her small frame, her hands clenched at her sides.

“I get it,” Dahlia said, her voice unwavering. “You’re trying to give me a good life. I understand that. But we can’t have a good life unless we’re both okay.”

Her voice softened, but the conviction in her tone never wavered. “And right now, Auntie Rose… you’re not.”

Rose felt something crack inside her. She tried to argue again, to tell Dahlia that she was fine—that she could take care of everything on her own. But before she could form the words, Dahlia shook her head, stepping toward the door.

“You need rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Rose protested weakly, trying to push herself upright. But her body betrayed her, the weight of exhaustion dragging her back down. She barely registered the sensation of sinking into the mattress, her limbs heavy and uncooperative. Somehow, she ended up flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, her vision hazy at the edges.

Dahlia lingered for a moment, watching her. Then, with quiet finality, she murmured, “Sleep.”

The door clicked softly as Dahlia left the room.

Rose tried to fight it, tried to stay awake—but the pull of exhaustion was too strong.

“I’m not…” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyelids fluttering shut before she could finish.