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it wouldn't have bothered her. She took on all the occupational responsibilities of the man the house and she was being treated like vermin by her aunt and sister.

Many things set Trista out as more different than most other eighteen year olds; one, in particular, was the fact that her mother died two days after her birth. This became a frequent subject for town gossip and some say that Trista's mum, Glory, succumbed to the physical agony of childbirth (she was only fifteen years old) but others say she died of a broken heart. Trista knows the later to be true. Her father, a seemingly pleasant man, was neither in love or lust with her mother, but instead "fully and completely" her aunt's; the cunning older sister of Trista's dead mother and her father's senior by two years.

Trista and her Aunt Pamelia had never gotten along; they held a mutual animosity for each other for as far back as Trista could remember. It wasn't simply a sisterly grudge past on to a daughter, it was far more; their personalities seem to clash in way where nothing could be reconcilable. They were repulsed by even the mere though and the complete nature of one another.

"Mum wasn't too happy" Emmeline told Trista.

"I
don't give a damn what your mother thinks how would she like it if I left you two to starve?" was what Trista felt like saying but instead she replied with a simple "Sorry" and said now more. She knew that her father was the only person to even remotely love her and killing his love and daughter off through means of starvation wouldn't fit too happily in his life's plan.

"Why do you hate me?" Trista was certainly not prepared for the next remark.

"What?"

"You hate me- what did I ever do to you? I'm not even Mum's real daughter so I know it can't be that."

Trista contemplated it why did she hate her younger sister? Her aunt Pamelia
married her father only two months after her own birth but they nevertheless tried for a child of their own and shortly realized that
Pamelia was barren. They tried many cures, and even magic, but they Gods didn't grant her fertility. Finally, they agreed on a concubine, a prisoner of war name Sari, to bare their child. This, however, did not go well with a jealous Pamelia, and shortly after Emmeline was weaned, the concubine, along with a considerable amount of money, disappeared.

"You may not look like her but she sure do act like her," snapped Trista, this time, however, more softly.

"You're jealous?" said Emmeline tentatively, so astray from her ordinary

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