It was a dark and stormy day, which was perfect, because that was the best kind of weather for reading. And today was the day that Didi had finally saved up enough money to purchase a book. She hadn't been able to read in nearly a year. There had been no time to bring books from home when they'd left. Kaylessa, the harsh and cruel mistress forcing Didi into a dreary life of servitude, kept no books, and in the entire town of Red Larch there were no libraries.

Only Gaelker had books. Three books, to be exact. Didi had spotted them in his shop three months ago. One was a spell book, about as interesting to Didi as something written in Dwarvish. One was a blank journal. The last was an adventurer's biography. Didi would have preferred a novel, but at this point she would take anything. But before she'd even been able to read as far as the description on the book's inside cover, Gaelker had shouted at her to take the lye soap she'd been sent for and get out of his shop or he'd send her back to the town jail. Ever since then, she'd obsessed over the book as though it were the next volume in her favorite series, mind brimming over about the possible contents of the book. She'd been living off the leftover chickpea cakes and brothy soups from the Swinging Swords Inn kitchen, saving her meager earnings.

Gaelker did not pretend to welcome her when she arrived at his shop. "What do you want?" he asked, stretching the word "you" in a way that made it sound like a dirty word.

"Do you still have those books?" Didi asked, ignoring his tone.

His glare sharpened. "Yes."

His glare followed her as she skipped through the aisle to the dusty corner with the miscellaneous unwanted objects, picked up the book, and lovingly brushed off the dust. He shifted impatiently at her, and, eager to get back with the book herself, she obligingly set the book down on the counter and retrieved her collected coins. Gaelker made a point of counting them carefully, inspecting each piece as though he suspected it to be the result of illusion magic, but he didn't let his eyes stray too far from Didi, either. His attitude was almost enough to make her want to steal something from him out of principle, but he was watching too closely. He would notice. She wasn't afraid of him, but he would tell Kaylessa. Whenever Kaylessa found out that Didi stole something, she dragged Didi to the victim by the ear and made her apologize.

When at last Gaelker was satisfied with the authenticity of the coins, he huffed, as though frustrated he hadn't found a reason to call for her imprisonment. "There you go. Now git!" He grunted as he slammed the book on the table and waved her away.

It was pouring. She shoved the book down the front of her blouse and clung it close to her chest as she ran back to the inn, leaping over puddles. The rain itself less of a problem than the several carriages that passed her, splashing her from the side–fortunately, she heard them coming and had the foresight to shift the precious book to the side not facing the road.

Kaylessa was checking customers in at the front desk when Didi made it to the Inn. When she saw her she paused her transaction to gape at her. "Goodness, gracious, child! Where in the world have you been!? Go get changed into something presentable and get down here! They need you in the kitchen! And for goodness sakes, take off those boots!"

The volume in the dining room as she passed by was unusual. Weather like this had urged the travelers in the forest to hurry to the next town, and discouraged the current guests from continuing their journeys. They were booked full. That meant no leftovers. Didi changed, set the (dry, thankfully) book down on her desk, and raced downstairs so she'd have a chance to snatch some food before it was gone.

It was hours (though it felt like centuries) later when the kitchen was closed up and cleaned to Kaylessa's satisfaction. The chaos of the dinner rush had not been enough to keep Didi's mind off the book; she'd performed her duties on autopilot until it was time to clean up, at which point she'd focused on working efficiently so she could go to her room. When the only dish left was the stained old pan and Didi's fingers were raisined and red, Kaylessa finally dismissed her. "Well done," Kaylessa said, looking over the tidy kitchen. "Good girl. You head on up to bed; I'll finish this last one. Just dump the mop water out on your way."

Didi's older brother, Dominic, was already in bed by the time she got there. He worked in the stables. At first, Kaylessa had tried to train both of them for both jobs and have them switch, but she realized Didi with her chattiness was better suited for customer service. Dominic did not complain, because as a stable boy he was allowed more frequent and thorough showers.

"I saved some bread for you!" she greeted him. His ears perked up, then fell again as he saw her remove the slices from her damp shirt.

He grimaced. "No, thanks."

"Suit yourself," she said, climbing into the bed and pulling the covers up over her. Kaylessa would spare only one room for the both of them and one bed. Dominic scooted over to allow her space, then looked at her with a lazy curiosity.

"How's the book?" he asked in Elvish, their native tongue.

"Haven't started it yet. I'll let you know if it's good."

"Okay," said Dominic.

Didi adjusted herself under the covers. Dominic watched her like he wanted to say something.

"What?" Didi asked.

"There were a couple of wanted posters on the constable's window today."

"And?"

"There are some wanted criminals with bounties."

"And?"

He paused for a long time before he answered, as though he expected her to read his mind and figure it out herself with enough time. "I think we should go for it," he finally said.

Didi reluctantly put her book down, and leaned back, thinking. "You wanna leave Red Larch?"

"No, we don't have to!" he said. "Not right away, anyway. We get the whole night off; we only need half that time to sleep."

"So we're supposed to sneak out, find a criminal, kill them, sneak back in with their head, go back to sleep, then wake-up and start making beds like it's a normal day, then sneak the severed criminal head over to the sheriff's on our lunch break?"

"Okay, fine then. We can leave," said Dominic.

Didi looked at her book. "What if we don't find any bounty?"

"We will! If not, we join another caravan and follow them until we get a more promising offer. We're not getting anywhere by staying here."

Didi couldn't argue with that. She was meant for better than this. She was bred and raised to be a leader, the fierce kind of leader who commanded respect with merit and, if necessary, brutality. She'd chosen to leave the brutality behind; she'd known ever since she could read that she'd rather be a hero than a villain. But heroes and villains were both very different things from being a maidservant. That was not what she was meant for. Someday she would take the skills that had been drilled into her, and she would use them to do great things.

But, for now, for a few more months at least, she was enjoying the break from being a vagabond.

"I'll think about it. Let me read my book."

"We can go tonight!" Dominic interrupted. "We can just... try. If we find someone, we bring them in, we get the bounty and we leave. If not, we come back. If we just had a little money to start with we wouldn't have to worry."

"I said I'd think about it," said Didi. "No way are we going tonight. I've been waiting to read this all day."

He sank back against the bed frame. "Okay."

Dominic was always thinking, never talking. They said people like that were the wisest. Didi didn't think so. Just because she talked a lot didn't mean she didn't think, too. Talking helped her think. And talking to other people kept her grounded. She didn't think of herself as smarter than her brother, but she was wiser; he was the one letting his head drift away and she was the one who had to tether his ideas before they got too outlandish.

The book was good. Not elegantly written, but it was about interesting things, and that was alright with Didi. She loved prose, but more than that she loved stories, be they written by well-educated elven aristocrats or dictated by tavern drunks. Her favorite genre was adventure with romance. This had adventure. It lacked romance, but it did have two important male characters - the human narrator, at this point a young squire, and his knight - who Didi could imagine falling in love, and was almost as good as an actual romantic adventure story.

But she was more tired than she thought. Before she knew it her eyelids were drooping. Before she could risk falling asleep and losing her place, she found a bookmark, put the book aside, and fell asleep dreaming of the characters in the story - a boy her age with soft curly hair and the knight with gentle arms underneath his coat of armor. Her fantasies were nothing scandalous, nothing too weird to think about while lying in bed next to her own brother, merely sweet and romantic. She fell asleep thinking of blushing romantic confessions and weddings in beautiful churches and cute elven boys with flowers in their hair.

It was just enough to soothe her, to make her feel cozy even though her bed was too small. Just enough to take her mind off her guilt. Just enough to give her dreams of fiction. Silly dreams to chase away the recurring nightmares, those guilty memories with the seven crying children, drowning or bleeding or starving and always asking how she could have left them when she knew what their mother was capable of.

Question-of-the-chapter #1: For those of you familiar D&D, what race and class do you think Didi is?

Question-of-the-chapter #2: What is your favorite book genre, or combination of genres?