The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the Astoria estate, highlighting the cracks and faded splendor of what was once a grand home. The air inside the manor felt heavier than usual as Thalia stood in Lady Elira's study, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.
Lady Elira sat behind a polished oak desk, her posture as stiff as ever. The woman's green eyes bore into Thalia, unyielding but not unkind. As always, her tone was calm, serious, and devoid of emotion.
"I've called you here because there is something you must know," Elira began, her voice steady but carrying a weight that made Thalia's stomach churn.
"Yes, my lady," Thalia replied softly, her heart pounding in her chest.
Elira's gaze flickered to the papers on her desk—ledgers, letters, and documents with red ink slashed across them. For the first time, Thalia noticed a hint of weariness in her stepmother's expression.
"The estate is in financial ruin," Elira said bluntly.
The words hit Thalia like a blow. Memories of the grand halls, the sprawling gardens, and the Astoria family's proud legacy clashed with the stark reality of what Elira had just said.
"How… how bad is it?" Thalia asked hesitantly.
Elira leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled in front of her. "Bad enough that we can no longer maintain the estate. The debts are too great, and the income from the lands has dwindled. The family's reputation has been tarnished, and there is little left to salvage."
Thalia's throat tightened. She could feel the weight of Elira's sadness rising within her
Elira continued, her tone unchanging. "I have arranged for us to leave the estate in a fortnight. We will move to a modest house in the capital where I will focus on securing what little remains of the Astoria name."
Thalia's lips parted, but no words came out. Leave the estate? Abandon the only home she—or rather, Thalia—had ever known?
"I expect you to begin packing your belongings tomorrow," Elira added.
The conversation was over before it had truly begun. Lady Elira turned her attention back to her papers, the matter dismissed as efficiently as it had been raised.
Thalia curtsied stiffly, her mind swirling, and left the study.
---
Later that evening, Thalia sat in the estate's neglected library. Dust covered the shelves, and the once-rich scent of leather-bound books was faint beneath the layers of neglect. A single candle burned beside her as she pored over records, ledgers, and faded letters she had found in an old chest.
Aria's modern instincts had kicked in. Financial ruin wasn't just an abstract concept to her—it was a challenge. In her previous life, she had navigated the harsh realities of poverty, and while this was a different world, numbers and logic were universal.
"Let's see…" she murmured, flipping through a ledger.
She quickly realized the extent of the Astoria family's mismanagement. Years of excessive spending, coupled with declining productivity from the lands, had drained the estate's coffers. Thalia's father, once a strong and respected leader, had kept the family afloat through sheer willpower. But after his death, it seemed no one had the vision—or the energy—to carry on.
As she continued her research, Thalia uncovered letters from tenants complaining about failed crops and an increase in taxes , failing business . There were also proposals from merchants that had gone unanswered and offers of partnerships that had been dismissed without consideration.
"This family didn't just fail," she muttered, tapping her pen against the edge of the desk. "It ignored every opportunity to succeed."
Frustration bubbled within her. Aria had known the pain of being overlooked, dismissed, and forgotten. Now, Thalia—no, she—was determined not to let that happen to the Astoria family.
Her gaze shifted to a map of the estate's lands pinned to the wall. She traced her fingers over the outlines of fields, forests, and rivers. The Astoria lands were rich with potential, yet they were underutilized.
"What if…" Thalia whispered, a spark of an idea forming in her mind.
She leaned closer, pulling out a blank sheet of parchment. She sketched a plan—revitalizing the fields with new crops, opening partnerships with nearby merchants, and reducing tenant taxes temporarily to encourage growth. She even jotted down ideas for diversifying the estate's income, including trade and small-scale manufacturing.
By the time the candle had burned low, Thalia had filled several pages with notes and calculations. Her hand was cramping, but she didn't care.
"This might work," she said, her voice filled with quiet determination.
---
The next morning, Thalia presented herself in Lady Elira's study, clutching her hastily written notes. Elira looked up from her desk, her expression as unreadable as ever.
"Is something the matter, Thalia?" Elira asked, her tone calm.
"I have a proposal," Thalia said firmly, stepping forward and placing the papers on the desk.
Elira arched a brow but said nothing as she picked up the pages and began to read. The silence stretched on, and Thalia shifted nervously, unsure how her stepmother would react.
Finally, Elira set the papers down and looked at her.
"This… is ambitious," she said, her voice measured.
"It's realistic," Thalia replied, her voice stronger than she expected. "The estate still has potential. We just need to approach it differently. If we leave now, we'll lose everything. But if we stay and act strategically, we can rebuild."
Elira studied her for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. "And what makes you think this will work?"
Thalia hesitated before meeting her stepmother's gaze. "Because we can't afford to give up. Not yet."
For the first time, a flicker of something—respect, perhaps—crossed Elira's face.
"I will consider it," she said finally.
Thalia nodded, relief washing over her. As she left the study, she felt a new sense of purpose settle over her.
The Astoria family's fate wasn't sealed yet. And she would do everything in her power to ensure it survived.