"Our daughter! Can' ye believe i', dear?" The man stated quite angrily. There was a resonating sound from the desk as a large fist banged down the wooden surface. The room was lit by numerous candles, the surroundings quite lavish and luxurious. It was clearly the home of a Noble's family. Several furnitures of exquisite quality lay around the room. A bed of velvet was to be seen nearby, followed by portraits of various family members. Moonlight streamed in lazily from the window.
The Man appeared to be very old. He was of a medium build, greying hair and wrinkles on his face. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown, though they were now angrily fixed down on the table, as he looked down a piece of parchment. He was garbed in rich, noble's garbs, holding aloft a candle in a saucer. Chunky fingers traced the edge of the parchment thoughtfully.
"'Tis be bloody nonsense!" The shrill voice of a woman, presumed to be the Wife, rang from the doorway. She looked, to the contrary, younger than the man, though her colours made her stand out among the normal crowd. Her hair was a rich carrot colour, while her eyes were a shade of cold steel grey. She appeared to be a fit, robust type, her palms hardened by years of manual labour. Clearly her social status before marriage was not very high, as evidenced by her lack of lady-like manners, despite being garbed in a nightgown of high quality, her hair tied into an elegant knot atop her head. She simply stood clumsily there, "Our daughter! Thrown in jail? She would never!"
"Tha's enough from ye, dear. We've go' no choice now. If the 'own finds ou' tha' our daugh'er landed in jail... s'gonna damage our reputation." The greying man said. The woman walked calliously to the man, peering down at the parchment as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Look at this! Charges for assault? Compensation?" She gestured at the parchment angrily. The man meekly nodded, patting his wife's hand. He looked out at the village thoughtfully, watching the hustle and bustle of the night-market. Peasants and all sorts of people were crowded around on the street, the lights of the lamps twinkling as people shuffled past them in their hurry.
The woman stared out the windows as well, saying plainly, "Disown her. We can't have anything like this among the townsfolk. It would make us look bad."
"Dear, are ye sure...?"
"Yes, very." The woman gazed at her husband coldly. Repenting, he sighed.
"Le's go ter bed dear, I need ter think abou' this in the morn'." He said. The woman simply nodded as she made her way to the bed. Sighing, the man shuffled into the bathroom to change and get prepared for ever-blissful sleep.
Unbeknownst to the posh couple, two chambermaids were listening behind the door frame, flicking their eyes at each other. They were young girls, looking barely adult, both of them sporting brown hair and eyes, and dressed in rags of a poor taste, though one was quite taller than the other. Quietly making their way down the hallway, they came to a full stop before a trapdoor, presumed to be their resting place, and looked at each other with mirthless smiles.
"So i's true then? They disin'erited 'er?" One said.
"Aye, can' wai' ter tell i' ter the folks a' the pony!" The other stated, smirking.
"Ye sure? If they find ou' 'tis been us, we'll be ou' o' work..." The other looked worriedly at her counterpart, anxious.
"Don' worry, they won' know anyfin'. They 'ardly even visi' the pony! No' for them high-folk."
The tall one simply gave a grimace as they climbed down the attic for rest. The lights flickered and went out.
No one would know that Carlotta Oakenweed was disowned until the rumours flew in the next morning.
