In the bustling capital, nestled between grandeur and squalor, Isla toiled alongside her mother, scrubbing clothes in a large cauldron of soapy water. A stark contrast to her former existence, where parental love had been brutally snatched away, Isla now basked in the warmth of a family that cherished her, regardless of their humble commoner status. Her mother's gentle smile turned to a knowing glance as she addressed her daughter, "Isla, I've heard rumors that you've bested those troublesome boys once more with your wooden sword." Isla's usually aloof countenance attempted to deflect the inquiry, her brown eyes darting aside as she focused intently on her laundry duties. However, her mother's perceptiveness was unwavering, and she persisted, "Now, now, my dear, you can't hide it from me. I'm concerned that your frequent altercations might attract unwanted attention."

Isla rolled her eyes, her expression stubbornly uncooperative as she continued scrubbing a stain from a woolen shirt. "Who told you that, Mother?" she asked, trying to deflect the topic. "It's not like I enjoy fighting, okay? Those brats kept throwing rocks at me and mocking my 'pretend' swordplay." She snorted, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "Like I could ever be a proper swordsman like those pampered nobles. But sometimes, you just gotta show them who's boss around here."

Isla's mother, a stout woman with calloused hands from years of manual labor, chuckled softly. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself. You're strong, Isla, stronger than most give you credit for."

She paused, setting aside the laundry to kneel beside her daughter, looking into Isla's eyes with warmth and affection.

Isla smiled warmly and it softened her features as she gazed up at her mother, her eyes shimmering with sincerity. The notion of being scolded for her mischievous ways seemed far removed from the nurturing environment she now enjoyed. "I promised I'll make you and Father's life much easier." she reassured her mother, her youthful determination evident in her words.

In this world, Isla's father struggled to provide for their family, toiling as a lowly pier helper amidst the bustle of the capital's harbor. His meager earnings barely sufficed to keep their heads above water, prompting Isla's mother to supplement their income with backbreaking labor of her own. The young girl's fierce resolve to lighten their burdens was palpable, her spirit unbroken despite the hardships they faced as commoners in a society rife with class divisions.

Isla's mother's eyes welled up with tears at her daughter's heartfelt declaration. She pulled Isla into a tight embrace, cradling the girl's head against her shoulder.

"You already make our lives so much better just by being here, sweetie," she whispered, stroking Isla's tangled brown hair. "No matter what challenges we face, knowing you're by our side gives us the strength to carry on."

Rising to her feet, Isla's mother embraced her daughter close, a fierce protectiveness evident in her grip. "As long as we have each other, we can weather any storm. Remember that, okay?"

Nodding, Isla pressed a soft kiss to her mother's cheek, sealing the promise. Determination burned within her like a fire - she would succeed, not just for her family's sake, but for the chance to prove herself capable of achieving greatness in this new world, regardless of her modest beginnings.