Kemala chuckled, but the sound was the trinkle of crystalline Balinese waters. There wasn’t accusation or judgement in the drip of her mirth. She was genuinely amused, a feat in and of itself. For all of her quietude, Kemala could be entertained. Most simply fell pathetically short in the attempt. Therefore, when the stranger offered, she relinquished the cup to be replenished.
“Mint tea,” she explained despite the identifiable echo of herbal aroma wafting with the ceramic. A slim smile buried in the purse of her lips accompanied the handoff. “How swiftly the king shifts to servant. Which is he, I wonder." She peered upward into his eyes, exotically pale, his skin the color of milk, lips thin as reeds. If she saw anything other than strange in the stranger, the answer sank in the deep darkness of her gaze. After a moment, she shrugged and bequeathed a generous pearl of advice. "For myself, it is best to assume all women are goddesses, and any error in judgment will fall to the side of safety,” she said with arrogance wrapped with the enchanting veil of wisdom, which, if he knew anything about women, such a rule would be writ on the heart.
“Mint tea,” she explained despite the identifiable echo of herbal aroma wafting with the ceramic. A slim smile buried in the purse of her lips accompanied the handoff. “How swiftly the king shifts to servant. Which is he, I wonder." She peered upward into his eyes, exotically pale, his skin the color of milk, lips thin as reeds. If she saw anything other than strange in the stranger, the answer sank in the deep darkness of her gaze. After a moment, she shrugged and bequeathed a generous pearl of advice. "For myself, it is best to assume all women are goddesses, and any error in judgment will fall to the side of safety,” she said with arrogance wrapped with the enchanting veil of wisdom, which, if he knew anything about women, such a rule would be writ on the heart.