Farryn

Chapter 1- Part 2

A prison carriage waited for them down by the docks, and the Peeler repeatedly apologised for the inconvenience. Farryn didn't complain, not even when he told her she'd have to sit in the back of the carriage. It was cold, dark, and damp, and as they rocked along on the cobblestone road Farryn kept her head down. She ate her last meat pie- stale by now- and came up with a plan.

They arrived at the station thirty minutes later.It was still dark, though Farryn could see an outline of the rising sun on the horizon as the Peeler led her into the small building. He led her to a small room off to the side, and she sat there, waiting. She didn't listen to the sounds of chains clanking, or screams from a room somewhere in the building. She listened to the sound she wanted to hear. The sound of sweeping.

She stood and opened the door. They wouldn't dare lock me in. A tall, pale girl in a striped habit stood in the centre of the hallway, sweeping. Farryn had to keep herself from grinning. The striped habit meant she wasn't fully hired by the station. She was more of a 'rental' and she would be easier to work with.

"You," She called, putting on her haughtiest voice. 

The girl looked up. "Me, Madam?"

"Yes, you. Get me a cup of water, would you?"

"Ah. Madam, I'm not sure-"

"Hurry it up, would you?" She shook her head, making a show of adjusting her bonnet. "My, how furious Father will be when he hears how they've made me wait."

The girl hesitated, before dropping her broom against the wall and hurrying off. Farryn waited a moment, watching to make sure the hallway stayed empty, and then left the room, grabbing the broom. She slipped her bonnet off and walked with her head down until she found an unassuming wooden door.

It opened easily, and she slipped into the small dark room. The sign on the door had read Supplies.

Farryn fumbled her way through the dark. She was facing a rack of clothes. Maid's smocks, hopefully. Just then, the door opened behind her, and another girl stepped in with a lantern. She nodded at Farryn, and retreated to the back of the room to get changed.

With the light, Farryn pulled her grey dress off and put on the grey smock and striped apron. She shoved the dress and her basket in the corner of the room, and then hurried out, hoping that her new disguise would work.

And it did. No one paid her any mind as she left the station, stepping out into the cold morning. The apron's pocket was heavy with her remaining rolls, but apart from that, she didn't look too strange.

Farryn forced herself to walk slowly, to pretend she was relaxed. She went over the plan in her head. Find her, get everything sorted out, and then... Well. It didn't matter what happened next. It just mattered what she did now. The hope that she'd someday be able to do this... it was the only thing that had kept Farryn from throwing herself into Serval's fireplace all this time.

Berkeley's slowly woke up around her. It was a beautiful city, one of the Queen's favourites. The churches were steepled and adorned with beautiful painted glass. As she passed through the market, Farryn watched merchants set up their carts and stalls.

She walked, undisturbed, for nearly three hours. Finally, when her feet were beginning to ache, she spotted her destination. The building was large and intimidating, not as aesthetically pleasing as all the other houses and establishments she had walked past. It was grey, rectangular, with almost seven floors, all of their dirty windows covered with dark cloth. Farryn found herself mustering up her courage to climb up the steps.

The smell of sickness and smoke was strong in the lobby she stepped into. If you could even call it a "lobby". The room was damp and dark, lit solely by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. It was empty but for the table in the very back of the room, where a woman sat, reading.