The leaves in Spioraid were starting to turn colors. A sight richer people travelled to the city state just to see, the foliage seemed to be on fire. The leaves themselves could be as big as three feet in diameter, making beautiful images as they drifted to earth. Most of the trees were turning a bright red, vibrant crimson and pale cinnamon tones blended with occasional maroons. Some of the leaves were colored orange, highlighting the surrounding red. A few trees stood out in brilliant yellows and ochres. One stubborn tree continued on with healthy, green leaves, grasping stubbornly onto life. The men and women who lived in houses in the upper branches had gotten used to the tree turning later than all the others, but were not sure why. Madame knew why. The tree was just as strong-willed and contrary as she was. She had tried everything to get the tree to turn along with all it's cohorts: begging, scolding, flattering, bribing. Nothing worked. The tree had dug in its roots on this matter and refused to heed its mistress. To spite her one year, it had not shedded its leaves until the winter solstice. Since then, Madame Talamh had given up on getting the tree to go along with the others around it.<br/><br/>Today was the first truly cold day of autumn. All through out Worker's Square, people were bundled up in cloaks and sturdy boots as they went through their day. It was mid morning, and most people had started their day hours ago. Madame Talamh and her girls, however, were just beginning to wake. Late nights meant late mornings. As long as everything got done for the day, Madame was okay with this arrangement.<br/><br/>Madame Talamh woke with a chill in her third floor bedroom. She mentally told herself to remember to ask Greer to light all the fires in the brothel. Getting out of bed, she changed into a thicker robe for warmth. Madame pulled her hair into its customary bun. Then she moved to her office, on the other side of the room from her bed, to go through paperwork.<br/><br/>This was a typical beginning of the day. She would wake, usually before all the girls, and make sure money added up from the previous night. She was always available to talk to in the mornings, and sometimes the girls would chose this time to privately meet with her. As the was no knock on her door, it seemed she would have the morning to herself. Last night had been no busier than normal, so the books took relatively no time.<br/><br/>In the brothel, the clients were required to leave by eleven. If, at noon, when Madame Talamh went to wake all the girls up, there was still a client with a girl, she would charge them for the second day. The girls were asked to urge the gentleman (or lady) to leave by eleven.<br/><br/>Exactly at noon, Madame closed her ledger and made her way to the second floor. Going door to door, she rapped twice on each. "Rise and shine, ladies," she hollered through the hallway. She stopped at Cadwyn's door, which was open. Inside, the girl was sitting at her small vanity, braiding her long hair. She was wrapped in a thick robe, dyed sea green to match her eyes.<br/><br/>"Good morning, Cadwyn," Talamh said as she poked her head in.<br/><br/>"The same to you, Madame," Cadwyn murmured, giving the older woman a smile.<br/><br/>Madame Talamh nodded and moved through the hall. She finished with the door to Tori's room. She gave three quick knocks with her knuckle, unsure if the male was awake or not. She sometimes marveled at the luck she had with getting Tori. He was the first one to apply for the job, and every day it seemed like she had struck gold. He was so good with the girls, and had easily taken care of any problems that happened in the brothel.<br/><br/>After knocking through the hall, Madame went two floors down, to the kitchen. She always treated the girls to lunch every day. It was her way of making them a family, forcing them all to sit at table and eat together once a day. Their family may be a bit more dysfunctional than the average one, but aren't they all?<br/><br/>As she began working up lunch, Owen knocked on the back door. Talamh rushed over to open it, pushing tendrils of hair out of her face.<br/><br/>"Got yer order, Madame Talamh," he said, smiling over two wooden crates in his arms. She opened the door wider to allow him inside. He placed the crates to one side. He had done this so many times in the last year that he could walk this path blindfolded.<br/><br/>Dressed in a white blouse and split skirts and with her red hair done in a twist, Greer walked down the steps and into the common room. Anyone else would be cold in her outfit, but she could walk around in her underwear and be hot. Seeing the boy, she smiled charmingly at Owen, batting her lashed at him. "Oh, I love it when you come to deliver, Owen," she cooed. Madame's glare was enough for her to break her act as she moved to sit at her place at table. "What's for lunch?" She asked.<br/><br/>"Soup. I'm cold and want something warm." Madame was over a pot, stirring things around inside. "Come heat it up for me." Greer reluctantly got back up from the table and went to the pot. She closed her eyes as she crafted heat into the soup, making it bubble gently.<br/><br/>"Mmm, soup!" Meaghan exclaimed as she came down the stairs, her sheer robe flowing behind her