Chapter 30

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A drop of sweat travelled down Jade's brow as she pulled the bucket full of water with a heave. She pushed back her shoulder length hair and with a grunt finally got the bucket by her side. The girl looked upwards and what should have been an easy walking distance up a hill seemed like a quest of epic proportions. Her broken bones were still mending despite the months gone by.

Careful not to jostle the wooden bucket she made the slow, winding trek up towards the cluster of buildings. Despite the cold biting her nerve ends Jade's face turned red with exertion. Each limping step reminded her of the painful crunch of broken bones.

"I'm never doing this again," Jade grumbled even though she knew it was a lie. She was tired of making bread and if there was any other task that got her out of the kitchen this was it. She opened the cottage door and luxuriated in the warmth of the fireplace.

"I told you," Jemima screeched as she saw the girl drag her limb from exhaustion, "I told you that you'll make yourself sick. It's much too far. You've barely stopped using your crutches a week ago."

Jade set the pail of water, with a cross expression on her face, at the threshold of the cottage. She seethed at the thought she had been proven incorrect despite all her efforts. She wiped the specks of water off her skirt that was fashioned in the village style, above the ankles.

"Maybe, darling, you should stick to making bread," Agatha's gentle tones were a contrast to Jemima's excitable voice. She poured her brewing tea into their respective, mismatched cups.

"I hate bread. I would rid of the world of my bread if it weren't so tasty," Jade grumbled to herself. The older women just ignored her as they always did.

"You do make a tasty loaf of bread," Jemima declared, loudly. Jade was convinced the old woman was losing her hearing but Jemima would not hear a word against her ears.

"I've made more than a hundred loaves of bread and I've had enough!" Jade announced which too was a lie. As long as she was trapped in this fistful of homes that called themselves a village she would be making bread. Her two hosts had tried to teach Jade other chores but they had soon learnt she was vastly useless. The only thing she had succeeded in was making bread. To stop would mean being ungrateful to her hosts who welcomed her in their home.

"Well the bread business is booming. Down in the town everyone always talks of your bread. Especially Bernard," Jemima grinned and winked at the brown haired girl.

"Bernard can piss off for all I care," Jade was in a miserable state of mind and was not afraid to show it, "And it's not like they have anything to talk about. Of course, my bread would be the talk of the town."

"The last topic of discussion was your arrival and that was a long while ago," The talkative of the two chattered as she folded the laundry. She knew Jade could never achieve the creases from her coal iron hence forbid her from touching it.

"Don't forget the bandits, my dear," Agatha took a sip of her tea. Jade's tea had tasted sour for some reason and they had never asked her to make it again.

"The bandits were barely a challenge. One good explosion from my rucksack and they never came back again. Craven trash!" Jade took a bite of her own bread and was transported to heaven. It really was lovely.

"Well, we were thinking of going down to the village for a drink in the evening," Agatha broached the question gingerly. She was always mindful when Jade was in a mood, "Would you like to join us?"

Jade's shoulder's deflated. It wasn't like she had anything better to do other than plan her escape from the two elderly women. Her vantage point showed her exactly where she was on the map of Edenshire that was seared in her brain but her physical attributes were too diminished to allow her back on the road.

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