Chapter 2- A Lying Thief

After a long, tedious, sleepless night, I was ready to get on with my day. 

Aunt Iris was already up, preparing some grated potato peels and some mushy vegetables that she managed to borrow from fellow neighbours. I flashed her a quick smile before digging into my breakfast. I learnt that by pinching your nose and swallowing down your food, it barely tasted like anything. It was only the aftertaste which you would have to deal with yourself. 

Grabbing my pouch, I was at the door, ready to bring home some money. I wasn't planning on heading to the agora this time, though. I was aiming at a much bigger place.

The palace. 

I knew the risks, however, it wasn't illegal to beg in Eresus. It was heavily frowned upon, though. In the worst-case scenario, they would force me to go and beg elsewhere. 

Walking down the cobbled streets, I realized just how hungry I was despite having just eaten breakfast. The warm scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the morning air, making my mouth water. Pristine, red apples were piled on carts, their skin taunting and tempting me to take a bite.

It was horrible. I tried my best to ignore the constant growling of my stomach, but it was impossible. It roared inside of me like a raging storm that wouldn't be quietened. 

That led me to do probably make the stupidest decision I had made for a long time. 

My limbs automatically made a move towards an elderly lady who stood behind a stall full of brown bread. Her skin was crinkly and her mouth was set in a permanent scowl. She looked most unpleasant. 

As I approached the stall, the aroma of food continued to pull me closer. Like a moth drawn to a flame, I was trapped. My fingers subconsciously stretched out to grab one of the loaves, determined to feel the soft, grainy feel of bread beneath my fingertips. 

"Oi!" I heard her yell over at me. In a panicked fright, my fists clenched even tighter around the loaf, squishing and ruining the bread. "You better pay for that!" She snarled, glaring viciously at me. 

"How much?" I whimpered, my knees knocking into one another. 

"Two obols."

I froze, giving her a look of pure terror. I had nothing on me. Not even a single obol.

"I don't have that," I whispered back shakily, "Please, I'm just a child-" 

"You lying thief!" 

Her voice was brittle and harsh, yet there was a hint of scorn in her tone. She sounded like a woman who thrived on violence. 

That's what made me start running. I was scared of getting arrested and charged. I had seen those who got sentenced to death each Sunday in the palace courtyard. It both terrified me and fascinated me, but it was not the way I ever wanted to die.

I ran as fast as I could, still clutching the loaf of bread in my arms. My feet pounded heavily into the cobbled floor and my heart thudded painfully in my chest.

What had I just done?

My ears pricked up the distinct shouts of other shoppers from behind who had joined in on the foot chase. Their voices were drawing nearer and nearer, making me begin to tremble. If I got caught, I would be arrested for sure. 

I continued onwards, huffing and puffing. I was never deemed fit. I could never run as fast as the other children, who I used to play with. The thing that kept me going was adrenaline and pure terror.

I turned a corner, running down through the centre of Eresus. I was initially hoping to blend in with the crowd as an ordinary shopper, but the crowd had other ideas. Instead, they parted a small way that was just big enough to continue a long, foot chase.

It was practically impossible for me to continue running onwards. I was tiring, quickly and completely out of breath. But if I stopped, the consequences would be grim. No, I had to keep pushing. 

A left, a right, another left. It was a miracle that I hadn't collapsed to the floor. I had no idea that I ever could run so fast. On and on, I continued shooting down the streets and avenues, twisting and turning. 

The yelling and shouting were still following me. They were relentless and by the volume of their voices, they weren't planning on stopping any time soon.

Panicking, I realized that I needed a backup plan. I couldn't run forever, could I?

Hiding was my next option, but I was in the middle of a street. How was that going to be possible?

Then something caught my eye. The entrance to the palace was directly in front of me. The palace's entrance was not guarded, but the royal entrance was. This was because of how many visitors went to the palace each day. If I managed to find a hiding spot inside, maybe I could escape from this situation? It was definitely worth a shot. 

I flew up the stairs and slipped through one of the palace open main doors. A burst of heat flew out and hit me square in the face. It was so warm from all the fires. Panting, I started running through the corridors and hallways, avoiding all of the staircases that led upwards. This was because I knew those rooms would be guarded. 

I eventually found a staircase leading downstairs. A wave of relief swept over me as I started hopping down the steps, two at a time. 

The staircase led to a door, which I pushed open without any hesitation. This alone was a very bad idea. The door opened to a ballroom-sized kitchen, full of plainly-dressed girls washing dishes and doing chores. 

To make matters worse, I turned around and saw the elderly lady stood at the top of the stairs. Her hands were on her hips. 

"Give me back my bread," She demanded, scowling, "You have three seconds. One-"

I acted as if a demon had possessed me. Screaming, I ran into the kitchen and forced the door shut, giving me those precious extra seconds to hide. 

Diving into a nearby basket full of table cloths, I covered myself with all bits of fabric I could find. As long as I wasn't visible, I didn't care about how graceful it looked.

"Where is that little rascal?" I heard the woman snap, forcing open the kitchen door. I tried my best to ease my shaking to a minimum. I felt terrified. 

"Why do you venture into our kitchens?" A firm but gentle voice asked her. "We are merely servants trying to fulfil the King's orders."

"That silly girl stole my bread," The woman spat back. I was taken aback by her lack of respect. "Tell me where she is. I order you."

"I follow orders from the King and the King only," The voice replied cooly, "The girl went out through the back. Now leave us to continue with our work in peace." 

The woman grunted and I heard her footsteps slowly fade away to nothing. My mouth opened and closed. A stranger risked getting herself in trouble to save my own neck. 

When I knew she was definitely gone, I sat up from my hiding place. I pushed the tablecloths onto the floor and I turned to face the voice. 

A girl, maybe fourteen at most, was looking at me, her mouth stretched into a thin-lipped smile. She had dirty blonde hair and twinkling eyes, bursting full of youth and energy. She reminded me of a comedian. She certainly had that vibe about her. 

"As I just saved you from getting into trouble," She said, grinning softly, "I think I deserve a fair share out of that loaf of bread in your arms, don't you think?"

That's how I met one of my closest friends.