The lot was huge, surrounded by countless buildings—apartments, businesses, and more. The entire area bustled with activity, and Scarlet liked the noise. The door to the sitting room was open, and she nodded at the passing guards. A few stepped inside to greet her directly, while her imp children played on the floor beside her.
General paperwork piled up in front of her. She looked over the chaos; it was like a beehive. Everyone knew what they were doing; they all had a task. It was orchestrated chaos, but still chaos. "One or two more years to go," she thought to herself as she scribbled down numbers. "One or two more years to go, and then I can walk away."
She sighed as she heard a crash. Looking up, she saw that her imps had accidentally knocked over their mugs, but that was alright. Everything here was breakable. She had learned long ago not to allow children near heirlooms. They didn’t know better and weren’t well coordinated. Scarlet watched as their nannies hurried over, and a few under-maids were summoned. She nodded to them and turned back to her work. The imps would be handled—they were safe, and truly, it was fine. The pottery would be placed in the heap, and one of her artisans would eventually take the shattered ceramics and turn them into a mosaic. She was certain it would find a use.
The noise ebbed and flowed around her, helping her focus. She was used to the noise; the lack of hustle and bustle made her nervous. Scarlet sighed. Her new home wasn’t what she had expected, but this was fine. There was no point in changing things—it was as busy as her ancestral home. "Besides," she thought to herself, "once my work is done, I’ll be able to walk away, and that’s all I really wanted for myself."