text: [Themes: grimdark fantasy, drama]
  
  After considering the options, you decide Bluemont is the place to be. Your reasons for this are many. First of all, a larger population increases the chance that you won't be found or recognized by anyone from Endlemire. It's just easier to hide in a large city; you're sure you'd just stick out in a small town. The second reason is that you have a vague feeling that a large city will be more accepting. At least, that is your hope. You've already seen first hand how narrow minded the people are in a small village; maybe those in a large city will have a wider world view. Lastly, you are guessing that it might be easier to find work in a busy place like a city.
  
  Since you've made up your mind, you only stay one night at the inn. The next morning you are up early and book a stagecoach ride into the big city. There are four other people in the six-seat coach; a mother and her son sit across from you, while a middle-aged couple sit on your side. You don't have much to say to the other passengers; for the most part you keep your head down and act demurely. It's not hard; you're not brazen despite what the villagers assumed about you. You consider it a bonus that the other passengers leave you alone too. Perhaps there's a general agreement between travelers to keep to themselves; you don't know for certain since you've never traveled before.
  
  While the trip is a new experience, it really goes without incident. It's true that your stomach feels rather queasy at the beginning, but a few hours in you start to adapt. Shortly after nightfall, the coach stops at a way stop; a very simplistic building with bunks and an open hearth. The coach driver stays outside with the horses, while the rest of you bunk down in very simplistic beds separated by heavy curtains. In the morning there's a bland breakfast of boiled oats and everyone is given enough time to see to personal needs before you're all on your way again.
  
  At the end of the second day you arrive at Bluemont. From your first glance of the place, you are in awe. Back home you could mentally bring up every building in town, recall who lived there, or who worked there. The sheer number of buildings in this city are overwhelming, and you can't imagine how far back they actually go. The style of the buildings is also quite impressive; some of them reaching as high as four-stories. Back in Endlemire, most buildings were only one or two stories. Most of the buildings also have pretty blue-grey stone tile roofs; you're guessing that is where the city got its name.
  
  "First time, isn't it?" You hear the question come from behind you, and you slowly turn around to see an older man standing there. With him is the young woman and child that had been in the coach with you. The three of them look at you patiently, but for a moment you just feel a bit dazed and it takes you a moment to realize they're waiting for a response. You don't think you can cover up your awe of the place, so lying wouldn't be very constructive. Meekly you shrug your shoulders and give a little sigh.
  
  "Yes, this is my first time away from home," you say. Though, technically at the moment, you don't even have a home.
  
  "What brings you to Bluemont?" the woman asks, speaking to you directly for the first time. The gentleman with her has gone to hail a coach.
  
  "I needed a change of scenery," you say. It's the truth, even if it doesn't encompass how bad your scenery used to be. "My home just wasn't the same after my father died." Perhaps mentioning the death of your father will discourage any further questioning. This has the desired effect, and the woman nods her head in understanding, falling silent for the time being. Moments later the gentleman returns and takes the woman's bags to the carriage. He briefly speaks to her in a hushed tone, then turns to you.
  
  "If you don't have any other plans for accommodations, perhaps you'd like to come with us; I have room to spare," the man says. "My name is Hiram. This is my daughter Hester and her son Thomas."
  
  Do you wish to take them up on their offer?
  
  > gratefully accept.
  For a moment you are stunned. You can't remember the last time you were invited into someone's home. True, these people don't know about your shame, but they also don't know anything positive about you either, other than the fact that you managed to ride silently in the same coach as Hester for two days. But the same could be said about the other passengers. It's a risk for both sides. While you know that you have no ill intent towards them, they can't possibly know that. And you can't really know their intentions either.
  
  "Thank you," you say; the words are simple but your tone clearly conveys how grateful you really are.
  
  "Excellent," Hiram says, taking your simple valise from you and putting it with the other baggage. He then assists you into the coach, where you sit next to Hester and Thomas.
  
  The ride gives you a pretty good view of Bluemont, and you become even more in awe as you get from the general public area to a very nice part of the city. The coach stops at a house and the luggage is unloaded. Hiram's home, while not lavish compared to some of the buildings in Bluemont, is easily larger than any of the residences in Endlemire. It makes you question your decision; you're not sure how to interact with these people who are obviously quite well off.
  
  "I want you to feel at ease," you hear Hiram say. You feel your face flush with embarrassment; you should have hidden your discomfort better.
  
  "It's a lot to take in," you admit quietly.
  
  That evening, after your things are settled in a room and you've had time to freshen up, you sit down with the family for supper. Despite the lavishness of the house, the food is not fancy, but is plentiful and filling. Since they all seem to be in fairly good health, you imagine this is deliberate on Hiram's part. Dinner conversation is pleasant and mostly centers around polite and rather generic conversation. Thomas is far more chatty now that you've been 'accepted' as a guest of the household. You learn that Hester's husband is away on business, which is why she and her son are staying with her father.
  
  By the end of the dinner you are feeling quite full and rather drowsy. Politely you excuse yourself, saying you're tired from the journey, and thanking Hiram for the dinner. He graciously tells you that you may lie down; he's sure his daughter will also be wanting rest fairly soon after the trip. It isn't long before you're resting peacefully in a guestroom's bed, which is wonderfully soft.
  
  Hours later, you're not entirely sure how many but it is still dark, you wake up with a start. Although it's dark, and you can't really see, you are positive someone is sitting on the bed. Unsure of what to do, you hold your breath and wait, straining to see or hear anything that might tell you what is going on.
  
  "Ah, so you are awake." Even though you knew you weren't alone, you're even more startled to hear a man's voice in your room. What's more daunting is that you're sure it's Hiram's voice.
  
  "Yes," you say, the monosyllable aptly expressing your uncertainty.
  
  "Poor young thing," Hiram says softly, putting a hand on your thigh. Despite the warmth of the hand, and the sincerity of his tone, you get the distinct feeling that this visit isn't purely for the purpose of consoling you, especially since you hadn't mentioned much about your previous hardships except the loss of your father. Besides, a clandestine visit in the middle of the night is not the appropriate time or place for such things. "I suppose no one ever taught you to not accept hospitality from strangers."
  
  "There wasn't much chance of that," you sadly admit.
  
  "I feel for you, I really do. Unfortunately I'm a selfish old man, and you're young, beautiful, and vulnerable."
  
  You hear him shifting on the bed before you realize what he's doing, and soon he's leaning over you, and you feel the warmth of his body. You can feel a blush creep over your face and you resist the urge to scream. But Hiram isn't wrong: you are vulnerable. He's the master of the household, and you don't know if anyone would come to your aid if you were to struggle. You open your mouth to form some sort of quiet protest, but he lays a finger across the middle of your lips.
  
  "Quietly," he says, and then moves so that he's beside you instead of over you. "I won't force you, but I'll be honest. I know where you came from. I have some business dealings with Endlemire. You don't have many options, my dear. At least here you will be taken care of; you will never want for food or shelter, even if your status won't see much improvement. See, my daughter has a great fondness for her departed mother, and would never forgive me were I to marry again. But I do desire a certain level of...companionship."
  
  "I understand," you say after giving it some thought. While you feel a certain level of resentment, you can't deny that Hiram speaks the truth. Even though it's similar to what Conroy said in the first place, he doesn't have the same level of smugness, nor has he made any aspersions on your character, simply your circumstance. Also, Conroy had never offered you anything in return, assuming that having a mere tumble with him was all you could desire...or deserve.
  
  Of course Hiram seems pleased at this, and even a little bit surprised. As for you, you're pleasantly surprised as well. Perhaps it's his age, or the fact that Hiram had been married before, but he seems to be a very gracious winner. He's gotten what he wants, but instead of being smug about it, he's courteous. While you don't have much personal experience with physical intimacy, you don't feel quite as ashamed as you ought, neither do you feel rushed.
  
  With skill and patience Hiram not only breaks through your reserved stiffness, but he leaves you gasping and shivering with pleasure before pressing into you and fulfilling his own needs. Obviously spent, he rests for a while beside you and then returns to his room, not wanting to have anyone see him departing there in the morning.
  
  Over breakfast he explains to his daughter that you will be staying on as a housekeeper; his last housekeeper had left to get married and so this doesn't raise any questions from Hester. In fact, she takes a few moments to pull you aside and give you some pointers on how her father likes the household run. As far as you can tell, she suspects nothing of what transpired in your bedroom the night before.
  
  From then on you lead a dual existence. During the day you are a demure, respectable housekeeper, showing little more than the natural deference of an employee to her employer. Since you had already kept house for your father, this task isn't difficult. At night, however, you serve in a much different capacity. And while Hiram is never violent or brutal, or even careless, he shows no real affection for you as a woman. His kindness is merely that of one human being to another, and he even learns a lot more of your history and what you went through. But he never loves you, or even convinces you that he does. You're never sure if this is because he could only love his departed wife, or if you simply weren't the kind of woman he could love. Or if anyone could love you at all.
  
  Either way, you are at least comfortable. Hiram spoke truly when he promised you that you would want for nothing as far as material matters are concerned. You have fairly nice clothes, a comfortable bed, and good food. Plus you are in charge of the few other servants in the household, who you treat with firm kindness and fairness. Socially you are never lonely, but you often feel that you gave up any chance for a true romantic partnership. But you accept this easily.
  
  Fortunately for you, you never get pregnant so your bedroom scandal is never revealed. On Hiram's deathbed, fifteen years later, he thanks you for everything. While he still doesn't show remorse, he does let you know that you made his life much better, and he's sincere in that he believes you deserved more, especially from your father. He even left a house for you, and some money for upkeep, in his will. The house you served in went to his daughter, however, so you get to make a fresh start elsewhere in a quiet little home.
  
  The rest of your life is peaceful. You have one small serving girl live with you, someone who had very similar circumstances to your own, and you do the best you can for her and leave everything to her when you pass on, hoping that she will have better luck than you did.
  
  Your life has come to a close; but in a way your legacy lives on.