» Invasion: starter for @honorhearted.
The cycle kept persisting. Despite desperately clutching onto the belief that it would be the last time, a poor decision on a whim had followed after another, each accompanied by the same hollow promise of change.
After each downfall, she would find a way. Something promising that would eventually still come to unravel everything she had built so beautifully elaborately at the seam, making all the hope that had ignited within her seem shamefully naive.
What if she was being punished?
Rumjana gaze drifted across the dark tavern room she was in. She hadn't left a trace. Hadn't moved anything. Hadn't stumbled over an object entering, nor made much noise breaking in. The past few years have taught her better than that. No more silly mistakes. Wasn't that right?
It had to be in here somewhere. Her flute. If it could be considered hers. Nothing truly belonged to her. She had nothing left to live for, always finding herself trapped in new ways. Even performing music had become a sombre chore that left her heart aching as much as it had fulfilled it once
They would find her. Sooner or later. To think of the humiliation she would face if the proprietress found out she had allowed some cul to steal an object a month's worth of food..
No. Wasn’t gonna happen.
Drawer after drawer was opened more harshly than she intended to. How she wished she could tear them out. Or that thief’s throat. Though, she would be quick enough in her retrieval to avoid confrontation. Gaze drifting to the piece of paper in one of the drawers, she noted the neat handwriting, finding herself reading a few lines. Rumjana stopped her skimming as soon as she realized the pointlessness of reading anything that man had left, merely focusing on what was written in the corner.
1778.
Her gasp was loud enough to drown out the sound of someone entering.