Kamari knew there was some sort of catch. As she sat in the palace garden writing the final sentence of her history essay, the sun had just begun to descend. Kamari knew that all over the kingdom other children would be returning home from play ready to relax with their families. She had done so before she turned five. Kamari packed up her scrolls and books with disbelief. Sunset now and dinner soon, yet she had no assignments.
No reading, no reciting, nothing. For the first time since she turned five, Kamari was actually caught up to schedule. Maybe she could actually do this. Maybe she was Tailor material after all.
The Matron Tailor would be proud when she heard. The thought of her mother made Kamari more wary. She took her list of subjects out her knapsack and reviewed them all triple-checking that she did not forget any. She hadn't.
She would wash up now and have time to read after dinner. Kamari was closing up her knapsack when she saw her sister approaching.
The three year old child walked as if she was the Matron Tailor herself. Neck high and proper, but there was a gait in the girl that the Matron tailor did not possess. A gait of one who owned the world and felt it owed her everything. There was also a brightness in her eyes that told of current mischief.
Kamari considered walking away before she got there. What could her sister have to say that she needed to hear? But Kamari had learned that the easiest way to avoid trouble was to be nice to her sister, so she waited.
"Hi, Roslen."
"Did you finish your essay, Kamari?"
"I did four essays today. But, yes, they're all finished."
Roslen frowned.
