"...But father! Surely there is someone else we could trade to the Count in order to settle our debt?"
Her eyes widened as her father explained the situation to her. The Count de Laurent had taken offense to her father's tax delinquency in recent years, lacking the compassion to understand how hard times had become and her poor father was making barely enough to sustain himself and his only child, as well as their part-time housekeeper. The money he made as a farrier could barely cover food and supplies the maid needed to take care of the house let alone pay their taxes. Now, the Count had come to his door with an escort earlier in the day with a warning that if her father did not come up with the money he owed then he would be put straight into jail.
Her father, Alexander, was not privy to that idea at all. Although it was the worst kind of luck, he had been fortunate to have the Count's focus temporarily swayed onto his only child, the stubborn, fire-hearted girl although you'd never know it. It was then that the Count made a deal, trade his daughter and in exchange his debt would be erased and he'd even make a small fortune from the trade.
Alexander was shocked by the proposal. But, of course the offer was irrefutable and he unwillingly signed over his daughter to the Count.
"No, Celeste. He specifically asked for you, I'm afraid there is no room to alter the trade," he said with such woe, sitting down at their table and wiping his brow with a dirtied rag.
His strong body fought the urge to shake, unable to grasp the severity of what he had done, although he knew he would have had to do it at some point in time. He could not marry off his daughter, a woman in her state was considered practically worthless, unlucky even. What man would marry her? The chances of their offspring having the same ailments could be so very high and to most, that just would not do.
Although she felt as if she knew their small cottage so well, knowing where everything was set up in order to avoid them it was those small little variations in the floor plan when guests sat and moved chairs that threw her off. Her delicate hands searched for the back of a chair to guide her into the seat, of which her father reached out to her and helped her to the chair.
"Father, are you sure? I mean, what could I even do for him? I am practically worthless around the house as it is," she replied as she tried to look in his direction though no matter how she tried she couldn't make eye contact.
Most of the time she could find his eyes, but today she just didn't have the strength and she looked as if she were looking past him. His face was exceptionally blurry today, as was everything else around her. All she saw was flecks and blobs of color, but usually she could find his. Green, the same color of the ones her father claimed she had. She'd never seen her own eyes for as long as she could remember. She'd never seen anything, really. Everything she knew, she relied on imagination. How could she be of any help to a Count, like this?
"I am not sure my dear...I am not sure. He said he'll return in a few days time, and you could pack one single bag to carry with you," he replied, holding his daughter's hand. "I sorry Celeste...there's nothing else to be done."