Misery
Of all the spaces in the fifty plus room manor, the cold marble bathroom on the far corner of the fourth floor was by far Astoria's favorite. For one thing, it was the most simple place in the house. The sleek floor was adorned only with a mahogany colored shag rug, and a few matching towels hung unpretentiously on the wall. There were no fancy chandeliers, no assuming art, and absolutely no ostentatious flower arrangements. Astoria despised grandiose adornments.
It was the only room in Greengrass Gables that purely served its purpose as a bathroom, and wasn't dressed up as anything else. The tub was spacious and the faucet wide so as to fill the void in ample time. The room itself was rather snug, lending itself perfectly into a makeshift sauna when one ran the water billowing hot, which she often did. It was in a remote area of the house that none of the other family members traveled to, leaving her in a much desired isolation. She would have been perfectly content to curl up in a blanket and sleep inside the bathtub had her mother not had a conniption the one time she actually mentioned it. So instead, Astoria settled for the next best thing, taking daily and multiple baths.
It was the only way for Astoria to get her mother to leave her alone. Ever since she could remember, her mother scolded Astoria for the state of her skin. As a baby it chafed easily and broke out into rashes. Around the time puberty set in she seemed to excrete an excess amount of grease, one which no amount of scrubbing seemed to get rid of. To make matters worse, she was allergic to Mandrakes, which left hardly any magical remedy available to her, unless she wanted to go about looking like Eloise Midgen. That, and her hair that if left untreated became so oily it left stains on the couch pillows, caused Phoebe Greengrass to banish her youngest daughter to the washroom where she was to scrub and wash vigilantly. At first Astoria had hated it. Sure she didn't like the pain of a nastily placed zit nor was she comfortable with the feeling of grease on her nose, but her mother pushed it to a vain extreme.
"No man wants to marry a girl whose face is covered in pockmarks!" her mother had explained to her at age nine.
But over the years she had learned to use the banishment for her own benefit, and treasured the times spent lounging in the tub, submerged in hot water while wrapped up in whatever book she pleased. To her, the washroom symbolized the small amount of freedom she had in her otherwise overbearing life.
At school of course she was unable to bathe as frequently as she could at home, but even a morning and nightly shower couldn't stop her hair from going lank with oil a few hours later, or her face to shine with grease. Tired of returning home between every term to have her mother harp on her dirty appearance, Astoria decided to do in her third year what she did best. Take matters into her own hands.
She made her own wash products. It was surprisingly easy to come up with her own potions. She had a natural instinct towards ingredients, and understood the magical secrets held within herbs and animal parts better than she ever understood people. In just a few weeks she had created a soap that cleared her skin with daily use. By the time she took her OWLs she could go a day without showering and her hair would still stay feather soft. Upon graduation, she had created enough products to forgo needing any other soap for her or her clothes at all.
But all that was besides the point. Now she bathed because she wanted to.
"Astoria!" a clear voice echoed through the room. Astoria rolled her eyes. Her mother had the whole manor enchanted so she could call her children without having to search its six grand floors. Astoria grinned as she submerged her hair and ears in her bath. What her mother hadn't thought of was tweaking her voice to carry through the sound barrier of water. That was the other perfect thing about baths. It was the one place in the house where she didn't have to listen to her mother.
All Astoria wanted was to be left alone. She didn't want to have to put on the airs of aristocracy when she didn't feel like it. She didn't want to wear clothes she thought were ugly just because they were in fashion. She didn't give a damn about gossip. She certainly didn't want to have to compromise or downplay her intelligence just so others weren't intimidated by her. And she sure as hell wasn't going to waste her life aiming for the misery of marriage and motherhood.
She couldn't understand the women in her family's social circle. They all seemed so remorse and unfulfilled with their life as housewives, having their own desires pushed back for their husbands and children. Yet they all insisted upon it, and spent their daughters' childhoods pushing them in the same direction, perpetuating a never ending cycle of bleakness and unhappiness.
Well, it wouldn't happen to her. She had been the top of her class since she was a First Year, making top marks in her OWLs and NEWTs. She would have been a prefect and probably Head Girl if she had given a damn about such things. Astoria had a nasty talent of pissing the right kind of people off in those areas. In fact, Astoria seemed to just piss most people off period.
Despite behavioral setbacks, it was needless to say she had worked hard during school, and she wasn't going to waste the fruits of her labor straightening some man's tie as he went off to work at his job, leaving her at home to tend to a brood of filthy infants. No, she would have her own life, with no one else calling the shots but her.
All she had to do was get the hell out of this house.
She sighed as she slumped further into the water, submerging herself completely. That was what she had been trying to do for the last four months, ever since she graduated Hogwarts. Some of the girls in her NEWT level classes, especially those in other Houses, had talked about internships at St. Mungos, the Ministry, the Prophet, and a dozen other places of employment which took them from the confines of their home. She had looked over a pamphlet on the hospital, having enjoyed the sciences more than any other subject, and toyed with the idea of being a Healer. But she couldn't see it with in herself to want to mend anyone, as she was perfectly convinced the world would be a much better place with fewer people in it, and could more than see herself letting a "victim" of their own foolishness perish in front of her without her aid. Still, she never gave up the idea of experimental potions, and was determined one day for her inventions to span further than specific beauty products.
She stayed under the water as long as she could, letting her lungs scream and burst for air before pushing herself up and gasping for breath. Heart racing frantically, she reached out for her body wash and began to scrub down her thin and ashen body. Her nostrils filled with the rich smell of citrus and the crisp aroma of healthy plants. In a stroke of genius her forth year she had added lemon zest to her concoction to balance out the base of her potion. She rather liked the zesty scent of her skin, thinking it was much more refreshing than the absurd vanilla, berry, and flower mix of perfume so many girls tried to pass off.
Head still slightly light from her self-suffocation and ready to indulge herself in her other daily routine, she started lathering her body with her wash, slowly and thoroughly. She sank lower into the tub, using one of her spindly legs to turn on more scorching hot water. The room quickly filled with billowing steam, causing her to pant as her head began to spin from the stringent humidity. She very thoroughly lead her slick, soapy fingers down her frame, her right hand stopping to make lazy circles around her taut breast, while the other hand slid further down her torso. Her back arched of its own derision, causing her smooth stomach to peak out of the water as it waited to be caressed. The room all the while filled with more steam, sending Astoria into a panting delirium. She traced a gentle pattern around her navel, causing butterflies to tighten her ab muscles. Her index finger slid along the concave of her jutting hips and her body arched forward further. Resting on her hand on her course mound, she slid her body forward to the running tap, positioning herself expertly below the faucet. She let the warm water trickle down her legs, the drops licking the spot where her thighs met. She moaned in self satisfaction as she finally moved her fingers downwards, slipping inside herself a few times before assisting the water in its job, moving her middle finger in a master tempo. Breathing turned into a ragged battle as both the temperature and the stimulation became too much, and Astoria began to slip away into an oblivion of ecstasy. She could feel her walls start to tremble, signaling the start of her built up orgasm. She let out a happy groan as she worked faster towards this end.
"ASTORIA!"
Startled, Astoria slipped forward, causing her body to double over into the water. She choked and sputtered as she stood up, gasping desperately for air as her soaked black locks covered her face.
"WHAT?" she demanded of the empty room, pushing back her hair fiercely.
"Come to the Drawing Room this instant!" her mother demanded frantically. "It's of upmost importance."
"I doubt it," Astoria muttered under her breath, ringing out her soaked mane. Her body was still alert, the area between her legs still almost painfully swollen. She could hardly fathom the upmost disdain she harbored for her mother at this particular moment, interrupting her most private and intimate of activities. Whatever it was that was so urgent better be worth it.
She dried off her body thoroughly, kicking on her grey slacks and black cotton long-sleeved shirt. She snagged her wand to finish airing out her hair, but left her dressing up at that, forgoing the sparse makeup she occasionally wore and leaving her slip on shoes behind. She made her way barefoot through the corridor and down the flights of stairs to the first floor Drawing Room.
She entered through the Great Hall which opened up the majority of the house, generations of accumulated art, tables and chairs lining its stone walls. The Drawing Room itself was rather large, with ancient yet well kept furniture adding to the décor. Usually her mother spent her days lounging on one of the well stuffed couches, ordering around the House-Elves in-between burying herself in her dirty romance novels she recovered as classic literature. Instead, Astoria found her on the far end of the room, her elegant head poking through the curtained French Doors that lead off to a smaller corridor. The hallway traveled mainly to her father's home office.
"What?" Astoria demanded curtly, taking pleasure at her mother's startled gasp. The older women shushed her daughter before closing the door quietly. She turned around in a flutter, her long emerald gown flowing out behind her. Her rushed and apprehensive look morphed into one of distaste upon espying her youngest daughter. It was a look Astoria was quite familiar with.
"Honestly, 'Tori, could you look more like a homeless person?" her mother scoffed. Astoria's face fell into disbelief.
"I'm sorry, I didn't flip through the latest "Hobo Fashion" magazine, I didn't realize designer slacks and a new top qualified one into such an image," Astoria spat.
"Your feet, love, your feet," her mother pointed out hurriedly, straitening up the tea set on the coffee table absentmindedly. "And you could at least try to dress more feminine and colorful, 'Tori darling."
"Don't call me 'Tori', that's not my name," Astoria said firmly, initiating an argument two decades running. "If you wanted to call me that you should have said so on the birth certificate." Astoria hated the shorting of her name, believing her proper nomenclature to be one of the only nice things her mother ever gave her. At least her first name, anyways.
"Fine, Astoria, go get dressed properly. Mr. Garber is here," her mother rushed.
"Why should I give a damn if the bloody lawyer is here?" Astoria demanded, standing firmly in her place.
"Keep it down!" her mother hissed. "And watch that horrific mouth of yours. Bluebonnet!"
A loud crack filled the air as the young House-Elf Apparated in front of the tea set.
"Yes, Mistress?" the little elf squeaked, her bright blue eyes as round as Galleons.
"Fetch Astoria's new slippers, and that gorgeous burgundy pea coat she had some sense to buy. At least we can cover what she's wearing now," her mother ordered.
"You don't need to…" but the elf quickly Disapparated before she could get another word in. Astoria took to an old wooden chair in a huff, sitting down forcefully with her arms crossed.
"Why do I care if Garber is here?" Astoria inquired again, jittering her foot.
"Don't be thick!" her mother scolded. "He could be changing the will again!"
Astoria rolled her eyes. Her mother lived in constant fear over what that document said, and her father refused to privy her to any information. Astoria's whole life had been placed around a few stupid sheets of paper, as her mother perpetually placed her own consternations on her children.
"Stand up straight and don't embarrass your father," Phoebe had often warned the pair of Greengrass daughters. "You never know what he might do if you fall out of favor with him."
Astoria had been left with a pretty good idea planted in her head of what exactly could happen: disinheritance, family excommunication, a social fall worse than death. With no sons to carry on the family business, Helios could easily pass on his empire to a colleague or distant family member, leaving his much younger, female family to fend for themselves after his increasingly likely timely death.
Phoebe's only hope was to make her daughters as model Pureblood as possible, marry them off to high standing Pureblood men to which her husband would pass along his dynasty, or at least have a visible and viable male grandchild to which he could promise the business to.
But that certainly wasn't Astoria's plan, and she had spent the past eighteen years making this clear.
"You're a loony," Astoria replied solidly, keeping her crossed legged stance even when Bluebonnet returned with her shoes and tried placing them on her feet.
"Don't be such a spoiled brat!" her mother shot obsessively. "You have no idea how good you have it here. You've been born into a wealthy home which your father managed to keep upstanding during the war. You should consider yourself lucky!"
"Lucky?" Astoria shouted. "I'm a prisoner! If you had it your way I'd be stuck in this house until you could transfer me out to be the slave of some other family, all under the pretense of a holy union."
"Be quiet!" her mother commanded, shooting a terrified look at the closed French doors. "You will stop spewing such nonsense and fall in line this instant, young lady! I've had enough of your impertinence. The dangers of disinheritance and disgrace are very real, especially for you, and running around like a shameless fool will be your end."
"You would know all about running around like a shameless fool, wouldn't you, Mother?" Astoria replied, standing up wildly.
"What did you just say?" her mother asked in whispered abhorrence.
"Just that you wouldn't be having these problems, especially with me, if you had kept your drunken legs shut nineteen years ago! Then you wouldn't have to worry about what your husband thought of me or your slag…"
Astoria was silenced with a sharp slap across the face. She kept her feet solidly, despite the blow coming by complete surprise, and stood there touching her cheek gingerly. Her mother fumed in front of her, holding out her hand flat as though she may strike again. Her green eyes however held a look of upmost fear.
"That is enough!" her mother hissed. "You will not speak of such wretched things in my house again, do you understand me?"
Astoria looked at the raving and hypocritical woman in front of her, saw her posed for what she must have felt would be a physical counter attack from her abrasive daughter. Astoria saw this, and she smiled.
"You know what, Mother, you are absolutely right," Astoria laughed. "That is enough." Astoria spun on her heel and headed out to the Great Hall, chuckling to herself along the way, mother and House-Elf following in pursuit.
"Where do you think you're going?" her mother demanded, an edge of trepidation still outlining her voice. Astoria paused on the great staircase before responding.
"As far away from here as possible. I plan on leaving and never coming back," she stated simply, before continuing her jaunt up the stairs.
"WHAT!?!" she heard her mother explode, though Astoria had already rounded to the next flight leading to her chambers.
"You can't be serious!" her mother crowed, as she jogged after her. "I forbid it!"
"I'm eighteen, there is nothing you can do to stop me," Astoria retorted calmly as she made her way down the hall.
"We'll never support you in this! You have no money, no anything! No way to survive on your own!" her mother pointed out. Astoria paused before she turned off into her private corridor. She saw the look of victory flash across her mother's worried face as she watched her daughter contemplate this matter.
"True," Astoria said slowly, leading her mother on. "But then of course I could always just become a prostitute. I mean, that's basically what you've been preparing me for my whole life, isn't it? Selling myself off to the highest bidder?"
Astoria watched with intense satisfaction as her mother's face fell into shattered disillusionment. A smirk twisted across her features as her mother grasped for words.
"Or maybe," Astoria continued, stepping back into her own corridor and leaving her mother in the main hallway. "Maybe I can do like everyone else, get a job, and make my own money instead of living off someone else's."
"And how do you suppose to do that, you wretched little girl?" her mother asked through angry tears.
"You always under estimated me," Astoria said through a shake of her head. She grabbed her wand and tapped lazily against the bricks of the corridor before making her way to her bedroom chambers.
"Astoria, come back…!" but her mother was blocked, an invisible wall sprung across the corridor. Astoria grinned humorlessly as her mother tried in vain to use her own magic to counteract her own. Phoebe continued to yell, threaten and cry, but it all fell upon deaf ears. Astoria had finally had enough. She knew there was no way she could live in this house any longer, locked away in punishment for her mother's mistake. She was tired of pretending to live in fear about a fact that had nothing yet everything to do with her. She didn't give a damn about what her mother, Helios, or the rest of the pretentious upper class society thought. She was done with the lot of them, and would find away to survive on her own.
Astoria burst through her chamber door with a steady determination. The large trunk she had used to pack her belongings for school sat readily available at the foot of her bed. With a swish of her wand her favorite and most sensible shoes and clothing flew inside neatly. Her collection of books on potions, rare plants, theory, and other pertaining subjects were placed down carefully as she jealously guarded them as her prized possessions. Pausing to think at least half a step further, she turned to her bureau and began to rifle through the elegantly carved wooden box that stored her jewelry. Large and gaudy stones stared back at her, products of countless birthdays and Christmases living with relatives who didn't understand a single thing about her. Most of these adornments had been hastily stashed in the container without even contemplating wearing them. Now, they could be readily sold to keep her on her feet before she could find some way to feed herself.
She had just finished tossing the clunky object in her trunk when she heard movement at her door. Astoria snapped her head up, figuring her mother had finally managed to break through her powerful shield. Instead, she saw her sister, Daphne, standing shyly at her door, clad in a high fashioned light pink dress that fit her figure dreadfully, munching absent mindedly on a stalk of celery. Astoria's glare immediately softened.
"What's going on?" Daphne asked in her soft, girlish voice. "Mother is going positively bonkers. She keeps shouting about how you can't leave… you're not leaving, are you, Astoria?"
Astoria paused, stroking her long arm as tried to figure what to say. Daphne was one of the only reasons she had stayed as long as she had. The two couldn't possibly be more different, both in looks and in personality. Daphne had always been naturally chubby, and despite their mother's almost drastic attempts at trying to get her to lose weight she maintained the hefty girth of her father. Phoebe was as relentless on Daphne's appearance as she was Astoria's, only Daphne took it all to heart. She submissively let her mother dress and torture her like a doll. She took in all the drabble their mother preached to them, and worked diligently to satisfy Phoebe's ridiculous desires, always coming up short due to her natural physical appearance. What was worse was Daphne could never come to fight against her mother even if she wanted to. She was meek in her attitude and rather slow in wits.
Despite all of this however, Astoria was very fond of her sister and she had spent a good chunk of her life defending her against their mother and schoolmates. Although she was two years younger, she often helped Daphne in her school work, serving the dual purpose of ensuring her sister did not fall behind while she herself was pushed ahead. Her sister's timid demeanor always tapped into a source of infinite patience in Astoria inaccessible to anyone else. She loved her sister dearly, and the thought of leaving her alone to fend against their mad mother was nearly enough to make her want to stay.
But despite a strong sense of sisterly affection, Astoria knew she had to go. Even if it meant leaving behind the one person in the world she truly cared about, she had to do what was right for her. It was simply programmed into her nature, and as much as she may hate seeing the look on Daphne's face, she had to stay true to herself.
"I am, Daphne. I just can't stay here any longer." As was feared, Daphne's face began to tremble, and shaky tears began to fall down her large cheeks.
"But… but why? Mother could be nicer if you just let her; and what about our poor father?" Daphne inquired mournfully. Astoria hesitated again. The idea of her mother relenting to any of her desires was laughable. As for Helios…
It had been a strange paradigm to grow up in. As a child Astoria had first heard the whispered rumors of her true paternity through the other children in her social circle, mainly lead by her insufferable cousin Pansy. Through school she had not only uncovered the truth of the rumors but discovered the identity of her biological father through strange means. In one particularly intense argument during the holidays her Second Year she confronted her mother with her findings. Since then her mother had treated Astoria like a fragile explosive, one that at any moment may go off and destroy her carefully constructed life.
By some un-seeable twist, it seemed as though Helios was the only man in their station who did not notice that one of the girls he raised bared no resemblance to him. He treated her no different than he did Daphne, bestowing equal attention and involvement in their lives, despite how small that really was. Astoria couldn't really see how her mother had made it so Helios remained unprivy to the situation, but as did most, she wrote it off to self imposed ignorance and his habitualness to sip off a pint of brandy.
It also seemed as though Daphne bore not a clue as to Astoria's particular situation. If she did, she certainly wouldn't have asked the question she just had. Not wanting to upset her sister any further, Astoria merely sighed.
"I just have to, Daphne. I can never have the life I want if I'm stuck here."
Daphne nodded her head in defeat and scuttled like a lost puppy to the foot of Astoria's bed, gently reorganizing the haphazard objects in the trunk. A pang of guilt filtered through her. She would definitely miss her older sister. Astoria turned to her desk drawer and pulled out a bag of candy that lay in a hidden secret compartment. Their mother had banned the both of them from eating sweets, as it did a number on Astoria's skin and on Daphne's weight. None the less the two had often bonded over the smuggling of candy, laughing happily over their small victories of happiness. Astoria pulled out the last liquorish wand, one of their favorites, and split it in half for them to share. Daphne looked at it sadly before abandoning her celery and taking her piece. As Astoria settled into her own share, she was struck with the urge to tell her sister just how much she loved her. Yet Astoria was unable to ever really show such affection, having never really been given the opportunity to do such. Instead she remained quiet, hoping her last token of childhood nostalgia said enough.
"Mistress Astoria?" a squeaky voice called from the door way. The sisters turned their attention to the small elf that stood before them. Bluebonnet had served the Greengrass family from as far back as Astoria could remember, focused primarily on the needs and attentions of the girls. Though just a trifling house servant, Bluebonnet had been a rather staple character in Astoria's life. Bluebonnet always cleaned up after Astoria had a particularly nasty fit, and never uttered a word about her activities unless explicitly asked by Mrs. Greengrass. Even than Astoria had a feeling the elf held back. Not that she held the elf in any particular high regard, but she was struck with the thought that she would miss her too. It was hard not to grow fond of one of the only creatures in the house who actually smiled at her when they interacted.
Only now the elf looked rather solemn, her ears drooped pathetically as she waited to be noticed.
"Yes?" Astoria asked, curtly out of habit but without menace.
"The Master wants to see you," Bluebonnet explained softly. Astoria was rather taken aback.
"Father?" Daphne replied, seemingly just as shocked as her sister. The elf nodded in affirmation, causing the two girls took look at each other in amazement. They were never summoned by the family patriarch, as he had made it clear that it was the mother's job to rear them specifically. Although she had lived in the manor her whole life she had only ever stood in the doorway to his office to call him to dinner or to inform him one of his business partners had dropped by to see him. Reading this as a bad sign for her cause, Astoria abandoned her packing to head out the door obediently, pausing only to hand Bluebonnet an Acid Pop.
Helios Slughorn Greengrass was a very large man, in both clout and stature. Although many who talked to him considered him to be completely apathetic, it was undeniable that he was at least a successful businessman. He headed a company that traded goods all over the world, had a string of good luck with investments, and occupied a special place of neutrality amongst most conflicts, as he was normally privy to hidden secrets on either side of a dispute. To Astoria he was a shadowy figure, a man who was seen only at meal times and even then he was normally hidden behind a paper. He was by no means cruel, at least not in the sense of abuse. He made sure his family had all of their fiscal needs met and that they were secure in their safety. He just seemed as though he never had much to say to the three women who shared his name. None the less, Astoria felt a distant reverence for the man, and walked towards his office quietly.
"You called for me, Father?" Astoria asked, eyeing her fuming mother suspiciously as she stood behind Helios' massive desk. Helios himself sat in a large leather office chair, his rounded gut causing him to sit back a considerable distance from the edge of his table. Icy blue eyes stared at Astoria from under bushy grey eyebrows as though summing her up for the first time. She remained in the doorway.
"Come in Astoria, and sit down," he said, pointing to the small chair in front of his desk. Astoria did so without speaking, though her mind reeled to maintain its steadfast determination. She was quite certain her stubbornness outweighed her light veneration for the man, but was worried about being stranded in unfamiliar territory. She sat quietly why her parents stared at her, her mother doing so quiet seethingly.
"So, your mother tells me you're thinking about moving out." He stated this as though she had made comment about wanting to join the Gobstones Club. Astoria worked on keeping her temper down.
"That's right. I'm very nearly packed," she replied coldly. Her mother's eyes nearly popped out of her head, while her husband maintained calm.
"I see. And why exactly do you feel the need to leave the comforts of your home for the destitution of the real world?" he asked simply.
"I have plans which can never come to fruition if I remain here," she stated firmly. Especially around her.
"Mmmhmm, and what exactly does an eighteen year old girl plan to do with her life, Knutless and on her own?"
"I…I want to be a Potions Master," she explained after a moment of hesitation. "I want to do experiments, push the bounds of known magic, all while making life on my own. I don't want to simply wait around here hoping to get married."
"You thankless child! After all your father and I have done for you, and you plan on just picking up and leaving…"
"Thank you, Phoebe," Helios interrupted, holding up a hand to silence his wife. "Are you certain that this is what you want?"
"I'm never uncertain of what I want," she replied both foolishly and truthfully. Helios let out a small chuckle.
"I admire your determination, Astoria. However, your mother was quite right in calling my attention to this matter. It is unacceptable for a woman of your station to simply run off, severing ties and shaming your family. This, I cannot allow…"
"I don't care what you allow," Astoria sneered defiantly. "It's my life and I will not waste it…" But she too was cut off by the man's hand gesture. Astoria found herself left uncharacteristically submissive.
"I cannot allow you to simply run off," he repeated firmly, "but if you do crave this independence, perhaps we can work out an arrangement."
"An arrangement?" echoed both mother and daughter, both caught off guard at the suggestion. Helios chuckled again. Astoria had never in her life heard him laugh so much.
"If you wish to be a potion maker or inventor, you would of course need your own space and area to study. Such a space however, you do not posses, nor do you have enough in your collection to sell off and support yourself for a prolonged period of time. Hence the need for an arrangement. I will procure such a place for you to live, while you find a part time job to support the rest of your needs, giving you ample time to do your research in your off time."
"WHAT!?!" her mother yelled fiercely, staring at her husband with a look of munity. Astoria however was shocked into near silence.
"Are you… are you serious?" Astoria asked, staring at the man in disbelief.
"You always made excellent marks in your classes, you seem confident enough in your abilities. I would be happy to support you in your ventures."
"Helios, you must be joking!" her mother explained. "She'll ruin herself if she leaves home! She'll cast herself away from society, taking down not only herself but her sister as well! You can't allow her childhood fantasies to wreck this family's standing!"
"I know. That's why Astoria, upon accepting this arrangement, also will agree to go to all the social events you ask of her, with nothing excusing her except for an untimely demise," he explained simply.
"I knew this was too good to be true," Astoria grumbled. "I can't stand the few events she drags me to now. How do you expect me to go to all the ludicrous gatherings she goes to?"
"You have two choices in leaving this house," Helios stated. "You can either accept this gracious offer and the guidelines I have set up for it, or I can betroth you to the most desperate man I can find. You'll see I am quite within my rights as father in our customs to do so."
"Why give her a choice at all?" Phoebe demanded desperately, speaking while her daughter gave a look of upmost repulsion at the latter alternative. "You can just force her to stay here!"
"Because I am old," he told his wife in exasperation. "I am tired of hearing the two of you bicker, and have neither the energy nor inclination to chase after her when she decides to run away. This way you both get what you want, and I can finally have some peace. This is hardly a scandalous proposition, and is far more conservative than what most men give their sons. So, young lady, what do you choose?"
Astoria ran over the offer given to her. She could finally be on her way to doing what she wanted. Set up in a flat, she would only need to work for food and leisure items, both of which were things she didn't readily consume. She could have secure privacy, leaving hardly any worries but those of her interests. That was better than she could have hoped for.
But she also wanted to get away from the extinguishing presence of the upper class society, and the influence of her mother. Phoebe would still have her daughter in her power, pushing her upon society and effectively selling her to a man who would buy her. Of course, just because she was forced to attend these games, didn't necessarily mean she had to play.
"Alright," she agreed slowly, feeling as though she were trading a bit of her soul for her dreams. "I accept."