Cursed Times - Only Yesterday! Sequel to Wattys 2015 winner!

Chapter 5 - Trueth: Dinnertime

'Scorpions!'

The last bucket of water Trueth had poured over herself had only been half full and by far not hot enough to rinse off the lather.

Swearing would get her nowhere, so she traipsed out of the bathing stall and used the linen towel to rub off the remaining suds. Her hair, freshly washed, hung in a dripping tangle in front of her face.

Trueth fumbled through her assorted body care products, pushing over a number of alabaster flasks, some of which rolled off the table onto the floor. Her fingers found the right container; she pulled the Cobra stopper and poured a liberal measure of hair oil on her hands. Lubricating her scalp would unsnarl her locks; they could dry in the warm air where they would ultimately morph into the bush version of a decent coiffure. Having found care products capable of taming her frizzy mane was one of the perks of getting stranded in mummy central—

With a creak, the door opened, a large hairy object trotted into the bathroom and hunkered on her fresh dress.

'Blondie, get your hairy ass off my stuff!'

The huge ginger cat did nothing of the sort. Instead he stuck a paw in the air and started licking his privates.

'Yuck, will you stop doing that. And get off my dress!'

Given the substantial amount of cat on her clothing she had to push hard, but eventually she managed to retrieve what was hers. Once clothed, Trueth realised she had acquired an equally substantial amount of cat hairs into the bargain and was trying to pat herself down when she heard a cool male voice outside her bathroom.

'You decent?'

How could Metjen still send the bees in her stomach into a tizzy? Stupid buggers, they should know better by now. So should the cat, who was weaving tickling eights around her ankles.

'I am, where others are not.'

Outside, clapping could be heard. 'Witty comeback. Well done. Now, if you want food, I suggest you shift gears, backside and whatever else you need and join us. Mother has used some of the last provisions and—.'

'—Coffee!'

Trueth shot out of the bathroom, nearly bowling over her so-called brother, and flip-flopped across the open courtyard that connected her suite to the lotus-pillared loggia she shared with her adopted family. With a howl, the flabby ginger beast barrelled past. Swearing behind her indicated that Metjen was also following in her wake.

She ran up the steps into the open dining area. While the other members of the noble house of Suka might think the new arrivals odd for using tables and chairs even during private dinners, they were too polite to comment. They were also not present at the moment, which made things slightly easier for Trueth—she had never been a fan of etiquette in any form.

The evening sun drew golden sparks from the pillars and set the glass floor mosaic aflame. Stray rays were caressing the velvety wood of the chairs. They did not reach the table. This vital piece of furniture had disappeared under the load of food that had always been a key feature of the Al-Nour family dinners back in Cairo. Amazingly, most of the offerings tended to get eaten and as a result even Trueth's hyper-efficient metabolism had recently started to add extra padding.

Depending on perspective, this was either deplorable or made her 'appear less like a stick insect' as Metjen had mercilessly observed. 

Her goose was cooked in any case. Trueth appreciated this state of affairs as she tucked in, she did not at all fancy catching one of the many bugs on the loose in this place.