Allow me to introduce myself properly, formally. I am Larysa Hanowey. I currently reside in the city of Lithmore, apprenticed under Dame Brienne ab Rhius, grand-master tailor and owner of Silk Ribbons.
I came to the city of Lithmore at the age of fifteen, just shy of my sixteenth birthday. I had no place to specifically call home prior to finding myself, along with a few other children in and around my age, here. But for the small cot at the back of a covered wagon. My parents are – or rather, were (if you ask me) – troubadours. While they were great actors and taught me the ways of a troubadour — singing, dancing, acrobatics, and playing instruments — they were horrible parents.
Father was a con-artist. He taught me how to slip a coin purse from a belt, how to play distraction. Disobedience often led to lashing, or no sup. So I learned to do as I was told, right or wrong, in fear of punishment. Which I have been privy to. Mother allowed him such brutality, but fortunately, the night he removed his belt for more unsavory acts of violence against me, she stopped him. I ran away with my honor, pride and virtue in tact.
My deeds are something I am not proud of, and I pray forgiveness daily for my sins and those who I had trespassed against, as well as those I fear I do currently.
I kept my mouth closed on such matters for a long time and I daresay you will find me make much fuss or mention of it beyond this journal entry. It is enough. You will not find me speaking of such painful memories. That I share this with you, dear reader, is a feat of bravery I oft lack. Except when given drink. Oh, the drink is mine enemy, and looses the tongue.
I have found a home. And friends. And happiness. I do not intend to look back. Or go back. Ever.