THIRTY EIGHT

Shira stepped outside to help the rest of the maids draw water from the well. Sir Baristan had said she was to earn her keep, and she was only too happy to do that.

All around, the people stared at her strangely. She did not know why. Perhaps, they had sensed how empty she was, how unworthy. She was going to prove herself to them, to please them, all of them. As long as Sir Baristan wanted her to.

The female who was drawing water from the well hurried off immediately she spotted her, but Shira was not detected. Very soon, they would all like her. She was going to die trying.

She bent by the well, drew up the bucket that had been tied to a rope, and threw it back down again, with hopes that it would fill with water, but it didn’t. She remained like that, bent over the well, trying to get the bucket within to fill with water so that she could pull it up, but she must have been doing something very wrong, for the bucket never filled up.

Perhaps even the bucket knew how worthl