As Atara steps out, the sun hits her face, but her thoughts are dark, her grip on the bucket firm as she turns into the path. Muttering to herself in frustration as she does.
"Seriously, now even the regular maids are treating me like some everyday messenger or something. 'Run this,' 'fetch that'… Couldn't they at least say 'thanks' once in a while? They wouldn't be doing this if Father was here."
She looks to the darkening sky, noticing the first stars beginning to peek through the fading daylight.
"It's getting late, too. And she's expecting me to get water this time. There should be plenty of water left from earlier..."
She grumbles.
"But no, they just want to work me to death."
She shakes her head, accepting that she will just have to get it over with.
'I better hurry before….'
