Twisting Every Way

Chapter 4

Emya tore through the streets towards Kamala's house. An unsettling sight, the villagers murmured anxiously as she passed. When she arrived out of breath, Kamala stood up from the garden and gawked at her with a mixture of annoyance and alarm. Emya brushed past her and entered the house. She didn't have time to convince Kamala to let her do what she had to, though she was sure to face some opposition from the obstinate woman. The Kings had instructed Emya to gather her things and bring them back to the "castle." It was just a small house near the council chamber, but the villagers started calling it the castle after the Kings ordered it vacated for their own use. As far as Emya could tell, they rarely did much of anything there.

Inside Kamala's home, she hurried down the hall to her tiny room and then stopped in the doorway, suddenly unsure of what to take. Most of the possessions in her quarters technically didn't belong to her. Even though Kamala had no use for clothing that didn't fit her anymore, she had made sure that Emya knew none of it belonged to her.

"What are you doing?" Kamala huffed from behind her.

"I'm leaving," Emya said quickly, searching through the clothing chest where she'd stashed the few things that she did own. She wished Kamala hadn't been home. The woman wasn't likely to let her go without a fight.

Whack!

Emya fell forward from the force of the blow. The old woman could still pack a punch.

"You ungrateful swine! I take you in, give you food and clothing, and you think you can steal from me?"

Emya picked herself up, rubbing the back of her head.

"Fine," she said. "I won't take your clothes."

Emya pulled off her disgusting pants and tunic and put on the only clothing that was truly hers: the dress she'd worn on the day her parents died. Kamala watched with a mixture of fury and, if she wasn't mistaken, relief. Emya stuffed a small box and a ribbon that had belonged to her mother into her pocket.

"And where do you think you're going?" she asked as Emya pushed past her.

"I'm going to live with the Kings," she said. Kamala's face twisted into disgusted satisfaction.

"So, they've taken a fancy to you? Not surprising. Those filthy animals would want trash such as you. And you go running to them. Well, I hope they give you what you deserve."

Emya stared at her in shock. She meant some sort of salacious tryst, Emya was sure. She'd been accused of many things, but this was a first. Turning slowly from the repellent old woman she left the house. The door clicked as it swung shut behind her, never to be opened by Emya again.