Spent my one afternoon off this month visiting my little brother and sister. Had to beg the house steward for hours just to get those few fucking hours. Worth it to see their faces when I brought them proper food for once.

Now I'm back in my shitty attic room, listening to the nobles downstairs laughing about some new tax that's 'hard on everyone.' Try living on what they pay me, you cunts. Try having your siblings' bellies depend on how well you can pretend to be some dumb, clumsy maid who 'accidentally' spills wine on a guest's expensive trousers.

Sometimes I lie here and fantasize about what I'd do if I had real power. Not just petty revenge shit. Real power. I'd make them all kneel. I'd watch their proud faces when they have to beg for what they need. I'd make them service me with their mouths and their cocks until they understand what it's like to be used.

But for now, I just count the coins I've managed to hide away. Every coin is a step closer to getting my family out of this hell. That's the only thing that keeps the real rage buried.