𝒯𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝒲𝐸𝑅𝐸 many things said about the eldest Archeron girl. Everyone knew of her, yet they barely saw her, some even just believed she was a ghost. She did have a reputation though, one which people either looked down on in disgust or up in respect.
Yet, none of those mortal notions were true as the young women was right at this moment trudging through mud to get back to her shack, feeling absolutely exhausted. They can say she's a ghost all they want, but Astraea was definitely feeling the ache in her bones as the lights of her cottage finally came into view.
The harsh wind whipped her tattered dyed braid into her face whilst she clambered up the creaking steps to the front door. Today, of all days was definitely one of the worst and the woman could already feel the grump radiating off her sisters from inside. The cold of winter either left you unwell or cranky and for the Archeron sisters it was the latter.
Heaving a sigh Astraea pulled the door open, quickly slamming it behind her to not let out the heat. She tugged off her boots as she heard the bickering of Nesta and Elain. Astraea turned around, sluggishly forcing her aching limbs into a chair by the table watching the commotion from her sisters take place. Her sisters knew not to start pestering her after she had a long workday, thank the cauldron, but poor Feyre seemed to not have that same privilege.
"I'd love a new cloak," Elain said with a whine, at the same moment Nesta rose and declared: "I need a new pair of boots."
Astraea just watched as her youngest sister stood there looking at the two with an exasperated expression. The ones who really needed new things were Feyre and Astraea. With a glance at the boots by the door the eldest held in a wince at the sight of her and Feyre's tattered shoes next to Nesta's polished clean ones.
"By the mother, do you all need to start screeching so loudly." Astraea complained, gaining a slight understanding smile from Feyre.
It may seem like her little sisters didn't care for her return; they definitely did, but they knew from last night that holding their tongue with the older girl was the better option.
"But I'm freezing with my raggedy old cloak," Elain pleaded. "I'll shiver to death." She fixed her wide eyes on the youngest girl and said, "Please, Feyre."
