Night was falling. Vetta watched Danika as she drew water from the pit. There was no one around, and Vetta was feeling angry while staring at her.
How could someone in a plain slave uniform look like royalty without even trying? The thought angered Vetta. She had to work hard in looking like the mistress she was. Sometimes she looked in the mirror and she saw the slave she’d always been.
No. She was no longer that girl. She wasn’t!
Vetta watched as Danika placed the pot of water on her head and started walking. As she got closer to Vetta, she came out of the shadows and placed her foot in Danika’s 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 Danika’s hair. “Watch where you’re going,
