The night was almost falling. Vetta watched Danika as she drew water from the pit. There was no one there, and Vetta was feeling really angry just staring at her.
How can someone in a plain slave uniform, look like royalty even without trying?
It angered Vetta really well. She has to work hard in looking like the mistress she is. Sometimes, she looks at the mirror and she sees the slave she's always been.
No. She's no longer that girl. She isn't!
She watched as Danika carried the pot of water on her head and started walking. As she got closer to Vetta, she came out of the shadows and placed a leg on the path.
Danika stumbled on it and fell. The pot broke to pieces and she winced, scrapping her elbow on the ground.
Vetta bent down and grabbed hold of her hair. "Watch where you're going, Slave!" She snarled.
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