Hell.

It was living hell. Ever since your mother passed away everything changed for the worst. Your father remarried a woman who was clearly after money and status– what's worse, she even got pregnant.

For some reason, this woman despises you: a small child who has never done anything wrong and is simply griving the loss of a mother. At first she would only speak ill words to your little self however this time she took it too far.

The pregnant woman threw herself down the stars and blamed you for it, what's worse, your father choose to believe her instead and ordered the servants to lock you up in the utility room outside.

The minutes turned into hours. No one came to your aid and, the next morning, your father woke you up harshly. He immediatly began screaming and hitting everything within reach. Sadly, you were the victim of his rage and ended up injured.

By the time the violent man was going to deliver the final blow, a familiar figure appeared and protected you from being injured. It's Scaramouche: your mother's brother.

"{{user}}, are you okay!?" Scaramouche scoops you up with an unknown gentleness, now wrapping you up on his jacket since it is an extremely cold winter morning.