Chapter 1
Noonvale Home for Girls
A little stoatmaid stood quietly in the front hall of the Noonvale Home for Girls. Her raven hair dangled behind her in a long ponytail, and she fidgeted with the hem of her worn silk dress as her azure-blue eyes took in the dreary room, with its rough wood-paneled walls and crude furniture. The door at the far wall of the room led to the Head's office, while a scuffed and splintered staircase led upstairs to the dormitories. Everything about this place seemed to be broken and filthy, and the young maid was quite relieved when a middle-aged mousewife beckoned her into the Head's office. The mouse sat down behind a slightly battered-looking desk. "I take it," she said, "that we have a new. resident." The girl nodded. "I don't suppose you would mind answering a few questions?" "No, marm." "Well then. name?" "Jalin." "And a surname?" "Daskar," the small stoatmaid responded, without a moment's hesitation. "Jalin Daskar." The head gasped. "Daskar? As in Vilu Daskar?" "Aye, marm. He was my gran'father." "Erm.all right then. age?" "Five an' three quarters seasons, marm." The Head scribbled this down beside the girl's name on the register. "Well then, that puts you in Dormitory B. You're to report to your dormitories at six o' clock sharp nightly. Breakfast is at four, then lessons until twelve. After that you're to clean the kitchens and dormitories, dust the furniture, and do the washing. And do it proper, mind you. I expect everything to be spotless when you've finished. If you do as you're told and finished all your work, you will be allowed diner before being sent upstairs. However, if you decide to act up at all or do not complete the set tasks properly, you will be sent straight to bed without supper and will be given extra chores for the rest of the week." She turned away for a moment and pulled something from a rather beat- up wooden trunk, dumping it into Jalin's small arms. "This is your uniform," she explained, indicating the bundle of grey woolen fabric. "You're to wear it daily, and it should be washed every third Wednesday with the bed linens. All other clothing is unacceptable and will be confiscated if I see even a single stocking of it. In addition, you will be allowed to bathe once very three months, and once every two weeks, if you have done as you're told, you'll be allowed to go to the market. All your valuable belongings will be sold. If they will fetch not even the smallest price, they will be destroyed. Do you understand?" Jalin nodded the best she could from behind the heap of clothing. "Good. Now get going." Jalin quickly turned and left, now faced with the prospect of eleven long seasons in this miserable place.
Noonvale Home for Girls
A little stoatmaid stood quietly in the front hall of the Noonvale Home for Girls. Her raven hair dangled behind her in a long ponytail, and she fidgeted with the hem of her worn silk dress as her azure-blue eyes took in the dreary room, with its rough wood-paneled walls and crude furniture. The door at the far wall of the room led to the Head's office, while a scuffed and splintered staircase led upstairs to the dormitories. Everything about this place seemed to be broken and filthy, and the young maid was quite relieved when a middle-aged mousewife beckoned her into the Head's office. The mouse sat down behind a slightly battered-looking desk. "I take it," she said, "that we have a new. resident." The girl nodded. "I don't suppose you would mind answering a few questions?" "No, marm." "Well then. name?" "Jalin." "And a surname?" "Daskar," the small stoatmaid responded, without a moment's hesitation. "Jalin Daskar." The head gasped. "Daskar? As in Vilu Daskar?" "Aye, marm. He was my gran'father." "Erm.all right then. age?" "Five an' three quarters seasons, marm." The Head scribbled this down beside the girl's name on the register. "Well then, that puts you in Dormitory B. You're to report to your dormitories at six o' clock sharp nightly. Breakfast is at four, then lessons until twelve. After that you're to clean the kitchens and dormitories, dust the furniture, and do the washing. And do it proper, mind you. I expect everything to be spotless when you've finished. If you do as you're told and finished all your work, you will be allowed diner before being sent upstairs. However, if you decide to act up at all or do not complete the set tasks properly, you will be sent straight to bed without supper and will be given extra chores for the rest of the week." She turned away for a moment and pulled something from a rather beat- up wooden trunk, dumping it into Jalin's small arms. "This is your uniform," she explained, indicating the bundle of grey woolen fabric. "You're to wear it daily, and it should be washed every third Wednesday with the bed linens. All other clothing is unacceptable and will be confiscated if I see even a single stocking of it. In addition, you will be allowed to bathe once very three months, and once every two weeks, if you have done as you're told, you'll be allowed to go to the market. All your valuable belongings will be sold. If they will fetch not even the smallest price, they will be destroyed. Do you understand?" Jalin nodded the best she could from behind the heap of clothing. "Good. Now get going." Jalin quickly turned and left, now faced with the prospect of eleven long seasons in this miserable place.