Serendipity Valdar had a single pair of good boots, her only pair in fact. As she slipped her pale feet into them and gave her toes a good wriggle around, she was ready to leave.

     The small cottage creaked as she tiptoed down the rickety stairs, an old cloak already slung across her shoulders. Outside, the wind beat down on the house in restless gusts.

     She pulled her black curls into a ponytail and secured them with a band. She let out a trembling breath. It was cold outside and dark, very dark. It made Serendipity uneasy; this entire thing did – but she needed the money. Her parents would be disappointed if they ever found out.

     In the distance, a dog barked.

     Serendipity rubbed her hands together as she walked, and she blew into them for some much-needed warmth. It didn’t take long for her to pick up her pace. She could barely afford to keep up her share of food on the table, let alone the luxury of a horse to carry her wherever she wanted.

     Guards laughing on duty by a side gate, leading into the city of Anderaith, had the girl pressing herself against the shadows as they passed. Night had fallen so quickly; it gave her enough places to hide if need be.

     Serendipity did not doubt they were drunk, or at least close to it. She pulled her hood over her head before slipping past the gates, which the soldiers had so foolishly left unguarded.

     The city was fast asleep. It was not common for the centre of Anderaith to be so empty and silent, but after the three pub-brawls-turned-riots last week, the Chief of Staff had established a curfew until he believed the citizens had learned their lesson.

     Serendipity kept up her pace. Already, she was growing eager to hear the reassuring sound of a few coins jingling in her pockets. She was no fighter, but if anyone dared to rob her after tonight, she would be ready to take anyone on. She already regretted even going tonight, and as she passed the bakery around the corner, just past the butcher's and an old bookstore, the smell of olive bread still in the air; Serendipity wasn’t sure whether she could keep this up anymore.

     Think of the money, she told herself. She didn’t like lying to her parents, but she reassured herself that telling a small lie like taking up a few extra street performances for the money would hurt no one. Serendipity was an exceptional dancer, and she loved to perform, yet it didn’t do enough to sustain her family, not after her tutor took his ludicrous share.

     Her destination didn’t look so terrible on the outside. The small but proud town house she stood before was simple and, for that reason, splendid. The dark grey walls and oak beams somehow looked lovely together, not two colours Serendipity would have put together herself. Two lanterns swung on either side of the grand door, refusing to be unlatched from the walls by the wind.

     “It’s not worth it,” she began with a sigh. She already held her hand in mid-air, as though to knock and seek permission to enter. The growling in her stomach proved otherwise, and the pain of an empty belly threw her into action. She knocked on the door twice and took a step back, a respectful distance away. The door came flying open moments later and Serendipity had to crane her neck back a little to get a view of the resident’s face. He was as ugly as she last remembered; not that she expected a change over the three days since she had last seen him.

     “You’re late.” a gruff voice said. His throat was clouded with smoke from a heavy pipe, and he stepped to the side. “But it’s always a pleasure to see you. Come on then, I want to get started.” the man added, his hand now clutching the belt of his breeches. He cocked his head to the left and Serendipity swallowed hard before slipping inside and allowing him to lock the door behind her.

     Her business with this man wasn’t pleasant. But unfortunately, it was more than necessary. In her case, it meant the difference between life and death, and she was not ready to starve any time soon.