"Can you please shut the curtains" Pandora yelled crossly her voice muffled under a pile of sheets and blankets.
"its
mornin mi maam, ye still wish to sleep till noon, hav you forgotten the
date" said the matronly women, bustling about her bedroom, pulling all the
curtains wide open with a vengeance.
"aaaaarghhhh
maaarmmmmy shut the curtains" she whined. “I even said please.”
The
women previously termed marmee, continued hustling & bustling across the
room, picking up fallen clothes and other toiletries, not giving any heed to
the petulant child crumpled under the sheets, while all the while muttering
under her breath" aa wat do wid this gal..... sweet child but no sense of propriety...."
Pandora
sighed. No use trying to sleep while marmee was on one of her diatribes, on her
favorite subject. Why does marmee have to be so unreasonable? She tugged her
blanket tightly above her ears trying to drown out marmee’ s thick voice and
native accent. Marmee was from a tribe called Kushnovas. They had served the
Kashinov household from time immortal, at least according to her grandfather.
Her grandfather kash ‘trov’ had once told her the Kushnovas were born to serve
them.
“coz we are gods?” Pandora had asked
innocently, from behind the ebony oak table, her legs barely touching the
ground from the armchair she was seated on.
Her
grandad who was seated across the table, had a large antique looking book, open
in front of him, with unintelligent looking scripture sprawled on them. They
were in his old study. Her grandfather’s study was a handsome room, with
ancient hardbound copies lining the walls from the top to bottom. A lively fire cackled in the ornamental
fireplace, carved with the family crest of the Kashinovas, the basilisk. Breaks
haven. Many years of her childhood had been spent, happily pursuing the ever
elusive history, adventures and mysteries of the three worlds, in this very
room situated right at the heart of their manor.
Her
granddad had looked up at her, his blue eyes gleaming steely from the light of
the fire. His ancient face broke into a wry smile. His hard carved chin and deep-set
eyes made him look like he belonged to a
museum/mausoleum, a headpiece, wise and old. A sly fox according to brake.
“No silly, coz we are powerful” Break had injected
nonchalantly, from the seat beside her at that time.
