Council of the Heir

Chapter One - getting immediately adopted

"Here you are, Lydia." Grace's mother, Elizabeth, set a steaming teacup next to her, and Lydia thanked her timidly before blowing on the steam. She wasn't a tea person, but her hosts were too kind for her to refuse.

Grace's dad had brought her into the house, explained the situation to his wife - who already knew most of it, as Grace was already there - and gotten Lydia some breakfast. The couple was very kind, if a bit wary, which was understandable considering she was a stranger they found hiding in their barn. They now stood in the doorway to the other room, speaking in low tones.

Grace sat on the floor by an old-looking stove, petting a large dog that lay curled up there. Lydia tried to stop staring, but her gaze kept being drawn back to the young woman. If this wasn't a dream... well, she had no way to explain any of this, but certainly not that. Mm. Doggo.

"Miss Lydia," Elizabeth caught her attention, and she looked away hurriedly.

"Mhm?" She'd never given Elizabeth a design... and her husband, William, she only described as red-haired. As characters with little to no development, how would they act?

"Are we correct in our assumption that you have nowhere to stay?"

"That's, yeah, right." Lydia gave a small nod.

"Would you like to stay with us until we can find a way for you to get home?" Elizabeth offered. "We don't have much, but you're welcome to stay." Lydia opened her mouth, feeling abruptly choked up. Curse this social anxiety.

"Th-that would be wonderful." She stammered. "I, ah, can help out too, if you teach me how."

"Can you cook and clean and mend?" The woman asked. "I could certainly use the help."

"Um, yeah, I think so." Lydia shrugged a little bit. "I might need some instruction."

"That's quite alright." Elizabeth assured her. "Any help would be appreciated."

"Thank you." Lydia ducked her head.

"In the meantime, I'll look for any information regarding your origin." William spoke up. "You said you come from a place called 'Greene'?"

"Yeah..." Lydia gestured slightly. "Which... I'm guessing is a ways from here. If you've never heard of it." This poor man.

"Got it." He nodded. "Well, a pleasure to have you on the team, miss Lydia." Reaching up to touch the brim of his hat, William turned away, leaving the cabin again.

"Grace, did you finish milking the cows?" Elizabeth asked as her husband left. Grace looked up.

"O-oh, almost."

"Finish that up, please." Elizabeth picked up a pail by the stove. "I'm going to get started on the cleaning." With that, she vanished out the door. Grace stood, grabbing a pail of her own and sending a quick glance at Lydia before hurrying outside as well. Lydia sighed, taking a small sip of her tea. She looked over at the dog, who was now blinking sleepily now that the petting had stopped.

"Hi doggo."

**

A week had passed, and Lydia had decided that this was officially Not a Dream.

Which meant she had to accept the completely unreasonable other option - that this was real. Unless her like, ceiling collapsed on her while she was sleeping and she was now in a coma. But that seemed unlikely also. Surely a coma dream would be slightly more... unhinged than this.

Lydia had been forced to face her technology addiction right off the bat, as she didn't have her phone to constantly fiddle with. She also had no contact with her friends, which was the worst of it. She missed them. She wondered if they missed her. How long had she been gone? Was time passing in the real world?