The ships in the harbor strained against their moorings as gusts of wind caused them to creak and bob, their lanyards slapping noisily against their polished woodworks. The ships carried with them the scent of fish, salt, and unwashed sailors to waft across the protected bay to the docks.

Angela Thomas inhaled the potent scents as she waited dutifully outside a linen shop. Being five years old, she was proud to be permitted to stand outside alone and watch the ships tossing about in the harbor below. She pushed her unruly blond hair out of her eyes again. The wind kept blowing it into her face.

"Here now, what's this?" Two ladies in fine dresses approached Angela, their escort respectfully following at a proper distance.

"She looks like a beggar girl, Milady," the escort offered. "Perhaps we should give her a coin? Food is scarce for one such as that."

By the time Angela realized they were talking about her and thought of something polite to say that wouldn't upset these potential dress-customers, it was too late. The ladies pressed two copper coins into her hand and then moved off. She blinked at the coins, confused. She wasn't a beggar. She had a proper mother, a father who was off sailing, and a home. While not wealthy by any means, somehow her mother always managed to find food for the table, even if only a potato to share.

Angela looked down at her dress and studied it. Truly, some of the beggar boys she'd seen had better clothes, but hers were cleaner and fit right. She was scrubbed, with clean hair, and if they had waited long enough for her to think of something to say, they would have realized she was a polite and well-brought-up little girl.

The voices inside the fabric store grew louder.

"But that doesn't cover the cost of the material!" her mother said angrily.

Angela heard the Rashesh noblewoman inside the shop with her mother answer, "Well, I've been told I have to pay a percentage to Kevin Bennett. It's your town. You should have to pay it, not me, so it comes out of the total cost."

"You knew about the Guild tithe before you ordered the dress."

"Well, you can either sell it to me for that or you can keep it and hope someone of my exact size happens along one day. I'm not paying even more just to buy something in this town. It's of questionable quality anyway."

A short time later, the Rashesh noblewoman exited the store, carrying a carefully-wrapped bundle that Angela recognized as the gown her mother had spent the last two weeks making. A man, equally well-dressed, dutifully followed the woman, obviously her escort. Fine ladies hardly ever went about this town alone.

Her mother appeared a few moments later, upset, but stoically trying not to show it. "Come on, my little bunny, let's go find dinner."

Trying to offer consolation in her child-innocent way, Angela held out the coins to her mother. "I can help buy dinner, too."

Her mother began to cry.