The Three Sisters

Zorah entered her tiny dwelling and closed the door, weariness pervading every cell of her body. She flopped onto the bed and stared up at the cracked ceiling, wondering what the morrow would bring. For once, she wasn't frightened that her husband would find her. She was simply too tired.

After taking a few slow breaths to relax, Zorah sat up and stared out the window. One of her fingers found a hole in the thin, dusty comforter and worried it absently. She needed to decompress.

In the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, Zorah had managed to collect a small supply of artist's materials. She leaned over and opened the lid, inhaling the scents of oil pigment and turpentine. A piece of stiff parchment served as her canvas, and soon Zorah was engrossed in producing a portrait of her youngest sister, Autumn.

Zorah, Autumn, and their eldest sister, Celia, had grown up in a country estate, away from all the pomp and circumstance of the city. Their mother had insisted, even though their father, Lord Kaspar, had his offices in town. Their mother knew what dangers lay in the city and wanted to keep her daughters as far away as possible.

Unfortunately, after her death, the three girls had no choice but to move into their father's townhouse and make do with the noise, filth, and questionable practices of the politicians and merchants who ran the city.

Autumn shocked everyone by being the first to leave - she caught a ship bound for the other side of the world, and while Lord Kaspar went white with fury at the mere mention of his rebellious daughter's name, Zorah knew it had been his fault that Autumn had left.

Celia married into a religious family who kept above the moral filth in the city by leaving it for the countryside. Zorah envied Celia her luck, but of course could not hope for the same.

Zorah was the last to leave. She had determined to skip town just like Autumn and make her own fortune as an artist (which was expressly against Lord Kaspar's wishes) when her fate made itself clear. Her father became entangled with a secretive group of officials and when he could not extricate himself cleanly, he offered up his last daughter as payment.

Count Orreq must have been part Boneclaw...Zorah never remembered him without shuddering at his grotesque, claw-like hands and skeletal frame. He showered her with pretty flowers, compliments, and jewelry, but underneath there was a revolting slug with an unquenchable thirst.

Zorah had never told anyone the reason she'd left. She supposed her friends had thought he'd beaten her or treated her harshly. She never revealed that she'd left because he had appetites she refused to satisfy.

She shook herself out of the unpleasant memories and gazed sadly down at the portrait of her darling sister. Where was she now? Was she safe? Did she have companions she could rely on? As for herself, she wasn't sure how safe she was here, and as for reliable companions...well, she'd just have to wait and see.