Uriel's Heir

Chapter 2

I roll my eyes.

"I for one am glad we have something to eat. Even if it tastes like Falmer dung," Roric says with a happy tone but then I realize that he's being sarcastic.

"You?" Uren says with attitude. "You are glad? You've stolen things nicer than what we're going to be able to afford."

"Food is food, Uren. We do have enough for something... at least," I say.

I look down at the coins in my hand, nervous about how much longer we can last... Something needs to change.

(track: "Love In The Eyes" by Ramin Djawadi)

RUNA JARLSTEIM:

I don't pay attention to the conversations the shoppers say in the market district, the growling of my stomach overpowering anything that I can possibly think about. It's been four days since I've eaten. Perhaps the man selling bread is kind?

I walk over to him. "May I have some bread?" I try to sound as sincere as I can, keeping my hand from trembling.

"Do you have coin?" he asks without even looking at me.

"No..." I say.

"Then get lost."

Well... perhaps he isn't so kind.

What are my options? I could ask again. I could persuade him? I could try someone else? Or perhaps I can just die here. I'm not getting anywhere...

No. I can't just give up. My father told me to never give up, that I was meant for something. I must make him proud.

Even though he wouldn't be proud of me stealing...

I eye the bread that looks so easy to take... my stomach growling again.

I shut my eyes. "Please, sir. I haven't eaten in seven days," I exaggerate slightly.

"And why is that my problem?" He refuses to look at me.

"Please, just have some sympathy! One piece is all I ask."

"It's not my job to feed you, little fetcher. Now get out of here before I give you more reason to complain," he snarled at me, nothing in him but spite.

(track: "Seasoned Oak" by Daniel Pemberton)

I glare up at him from under my brow and watch him turn away from me to help someone who can pay...

I look back at the bread...

DERKEETHUS:

"What's that?" Uren asks when we hear some angry loud voices.

Frowning, I glance around over my shoulder and I see a man furiously shouting at a young girl who looks about thirteen years of age. He had ripped a loaf of bread from her hand and accuses her of stealing.

She shouts back about him being a... well that's not a nice word for a young girl.

But I don't like how worked up the man is getting.

The others seem unphased and they just shrug it off.

The peasant girl and the large Imperial scoundrel round the corner when he shoves her and I watch with narrowed eyes... before someone else goes over and that's when I realize what's going on.