It was a clear morning in Uthlyn, with a distinct chill in the air. It was clear that autumn was descending on Connlaoth, bringing with it the cold weather and nippy winds that always heralded winter. The trees had not yet lost their leaves though, and the birds still sang amongst the branches in the parks.
It was in one of these parks that Lotte was frowning in disappointment. She had finished her morning chores early and received permission to leave the brothel. Mornings were always quiet, with most of the girls staying in bed until later in the day. These were the quiet hours when Lotte could escape, and pretend for a while that she had a normal life.
Or she could, if it weren't for these dratted bindings. Her wrists were connected by a long chain of silver, clipped onto her slave bangles. It was less restrictive than some days, a testament to her good behaviour, but still not enough. She had been trying to dance, desperate to practice her steps, but the lack of movement seriously impeded her progress.
She had just given up, after jarring her wrist as she tried to execute a move. "It's no good," she muttered to herself, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Sinking onto a stone bench, she buried her face in her hands.
