All I need is a change, all we need is a chance.

With the ease of practiced fingers, her hands glided through her long brown locks, braiding as they went. Checking the two long braids and the dress she was wearing, a very Alderrath lowerclass type of frock, in the small mirror on the wall. Something totally different than what she usually wore. Which was exactly the reason why she wore it. She didn't want to give any impression of her Iri heritage today. Lorraine intended to completely blend in like any other Ashmorian. Just a simple young servant girl looking for work within the Winter estate. The outfit was part one of that plan. And as she was making sure every detail of her outfit looked correct, part two came barging into her caravan. "One passport for Madame!" A young raven-haired boy threw a slightly scrunched and forged passport into her lap. "What do you need it for cous?" As she ignored his question, she quickly browsed through the document. "I don't even want to know how you got your hands on this one... Does it have that special stamp? I can't use it without that stamp." With a triumphant grin, Enzo, her younger cousin, placed his finger on an elaborate stamp imprint. "Don't worry Lor, I know what I'm doing. But where do you need a passport with a stamp for?" he asked again. Lorraine squealed with joy, her plan seemed to actually work! She jumped to her feet, thanked her cousin with a hug, and ran out of the caravan. "For a new job!" she yelled enthusiastically as she left her flabbergasted cousin in the caravan.

Relieved that his forged passport worked, she found herself walking through Alderrath later that day. She had already made it to the middle ring without a hitch, but was about to face her next big challenge. The upper ring. Trying to calm her nerves, she shuffled, on her flat shoes, towards a couple of guards, standing... well.. guard.. at one of the entrances to the upper ring. Her final destination. "Passport." One of the guards ordered her with a gruff tone, while the other stared her up and down. She swallowed away the lump in her throat, as she handed him the passport and managed to force a smile. "What is your business today, young lady?" he asked, as she averted her eyes away from his penetrating stare. "A new job, sir. In service, at the Winter astate." – "Hmmm.." the guard checked the passport again, then returned his gaze to Lorraine, who was silently staring at her feet on the pebble stone floor. "Welcome to the upper ring, miss. Good luck with the job." Only when the guard handed her fake passport back did she realize the pounding of her heart. The two guards stepped aside to let her in. With eyes full of sheer disbelief and her knees weak from the overwhelming realization, she stepped through the gate. She actually made it...

Lorraine had one memory of the upperring; her mother, then heavily pregnant with the twins, and a still very young Lorraine at hand. Standing in front of the big wooden door of a big fancy estate. Slamming shut in front of them. Unwelcome and unwanted. In her darkest moments, the sound of that slamming door still echos through her heart and soul. Now she was again in front of that door. Behind it was a life she had dreamed of for as long as she remembered. A life she had wished for. A family she always wanted to be a part of. Longing to shine like all the Winter's. Be a part of their glory, like her mother had hoped for all those years ago. That was a hope Lorraine herself still cherished. Hoping for a miracle. A chance. To prove she belonged. Now that chance was finally in reach. Shaped into the job of a servant girl for none other than her own father, Matthew Winter. She wasn't sure how exactly she was going to handle it. Or if he would recognize her after all those years. Or even what she would say. But a change like this wouldn't come again, so she took it. With that in mind, she determinedly stepped closer, reached out her hand and knocked on the big wooden door..

Of course, the door wasn't opened by her father, something she always imagined when she fantasized about meeting him. So Lorraine's expression turned a bit disappointed when a butler opened the door and asked her why she was here. After she had given her answer as politely as she could, the man reprimanded her immediately. She wasn't supposed to use the main entrance. He quickly sent her through the servant's entrance, after which he told her to follow him. Quietly, she obeyed and kept close behind the butler, going up the stairs to the main hall. She had never been inside her father's estate, or any estate, for that matter. She was finally able to fill in the fantasies of how he and his family lived. Everything she saw was so grandiose. His riches were very clear, almost dripping from every detail in the home. It made her eyes sparkle to know that she somehow was a part of him and all this.

The butler took her up multiple flights of stairs. Lorraine noticed that she hadn't seen anyone else yet. It seemed practically empty. The polar opposite of the family she grew up with. The Iri lived on top of each other, and it was almost impossible to find some alone time. So to see this huge, empty house was mind-boggling. Lorraine loved it. She imagined herself living there. Passing several closed doors, fantasizing about what was behind each of them. She decided that, if she got the job, she would explore extensively.

Finally, the butler stopped in front of a door at the end of a long hall. Lorraine hadn't kept track of how many stairs they'd climbed because she was too distracted by the art on the walls. The butler knocked on the door, and suddenly the nerves, which had been pushed to the back of her mind, came rushing back. Her cheeks flushed red as they waited in silence for a few moments. The voice of a man, sophisticated and smooth, came from behind the door. Her father. The butler opened the door, stepped in to quickly announce her arrival. He then stepped aside, expecting her to go in, but everything went so fast all of a sudden. The butler gave her a look that made her quickly step inside, as she was hesitating to do so. She looked around the room for a brief moment to see that it was a study. When the butler closed the door behind her, her eyes fell on the man sitting behind a wooden desk. A charming expression on his handsome face. Lorraine felt the muscles in her throat tighten. She tried to swallow the nerves away, smoothing her frock with her hands (as if that would help her in anyway), and stepped forward. The curtsy she attempted was unsure and clumsy, clearly something unusual for her. "Lord Winter." Was the only thing she managed to squeak out. after which she wisely held her tongue. She knew better than to speak before her turn.

She held her breath, keeping her eyes toward the floor and her hands folded in front of her, too nervous to look him in the face again. He had smiled so charmingly and welcoming. She noticed how he had observed her as she walked up to him. He didn't seem to recognize her. Nor the fact that she was a girl from the Iri. Which was a big relief in a way. Still, she secretly hoped he would recognize her in such a way that he would accept her as his own. Oh, how she hoped she was good enough for him. But perhaps it was better if he didn't... for the time being.

But when the man got up and walked around his desk towards her, she couldn't help but look up at him with big green eyes. She knew he was a tall man, but seeing it in person was a little different. She didn't even notice how she was still holding her breath. As he looked her up and down, she could feel her cheeks flustering red and warm, as she answered his charming grin with a genuine but shy smile. It felt so unexpected to suddenly be so seen by him, after years of being pushed to the side and unnoticeable. What he did next, however, surprised her even more. Was he actually willing to teach her something? When he addressed her as dear, her shy smile transformed into a beaming one. She nodded and tried her bow again. This time it was better, though still not completely right like his example, but only because she didn't immediately realize what he tried to do at first. ”Thank you, my Lord, that is very kind of you.”