3 The caged bird

Kasim was about to enter the room but paused when he heard muffled voices coming from inside. He cautiously approached the archway, making sure he couldn't be seen as he peered inside.

The old woman was still sitting on the floor where he left her, staring expressionlessly at a corner of the room, but she was not alone. A middle aged woman with dark circles under her eyes scowled as she dusted the floor with a long wooden stick with large feathers attached to the end.

Her technique was awful, rather than cleaning she was just kicking up dust into the air causing the old woman to squint and cough.

The cleaning woman was unbothered by other's coughing fit and continued to swish the feather duster against the floor until it was time for her duster to sweep over the portion of the floor the old lady was sitting on.

She glared at the coughing elder and coldly said, "Move."

Grandmother clutched her own chest as her coughing worsened into wretching and spluttering. She didn't respond to the cleaning woman's demand.

Kasim's stomach twisted in anger. The calllous dusting was one thing, but talking to his Grandmother like that was — Kasim paused. He tensed, catching himself indulging in unfamiliar feelings. He looked at the old woman on the floor and felt a sense of protectiveness over her. He clenched his fists, annoyed at himself for feeling that it was his place to protect her. Those weren't his emotions after all, they were the real Kasim's lingering affections, fake and implanted feelings. He could not afford to get caught up playing the role of Kasim. The only thing he needed to do was find a way back home. Calmer, he continued watching.

"Move," The cleaning woman's eyes narrowed, her grip around the duster tightened.

Grandmother didn't respond again, still in the midst of a coughing fit.

The cleaner swiftly raised the duster high above her head before brutally swinging it down and striking Grandmother's back. The look in the cleaner's eyes was feral and hateful as she used all her strength to beat the elderly woman.

Grandmother's soft disoriented cries were drowned out by the sound of the stick whacking her back. The old woman's face contorted in pain as she toppled over and began to cry.

"You stupid old hag," Thick veins protruded from the cleaner's bloodshot neck, and she spat out her hatefilled words, "If I tell you to move, you move!"

No matter if he didn't want to get attached to these people, Kasim couldn't hold back his rage at the sight of that frail helpless woman being beaten over nothing. He stormed into the room and pushed the cleaner to the ground. She screamed as she hit the floor with a thud.

She momentarily froze when she saw Kasim standing over her. The look in his eyes made her choke on the excuses she was about to splurt out, but then her self preservation kicked in.

"M-Master!" She scrambled to her knees in front of him.

"It's a misunderstanding, please have mercy on your loyal servant."

The viciousness she had shown toward Grandmother was gone, and now she was begging at his feet, tears even streamed down her pathetic face as she rubbed her hands together and begged. Pathetic.

He thought she might put up a fight, but instead she immediately resolved to lowering herself and acting as if she worshipped the ground he walked on.

"Loyal…" Kasim scoffed, raising an incredulous eyebrow at her.

"What's going on?" Suriya arrived in the archway with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Kasim, she had not gotten over Kasim's sudden switch of allegiance on the matter of selling the palace.

On her knees, the cleaner scuttled over to Suriya.

"Madam, please have mercy on me. The young master misunderstood me, I was just confused for a second." She clutched Suriya's dress in her coarse hands.

Suriya frowned down at her, trying to make sense of the woman's muffled words.

Kasim kneeled down on the floor next to his Grandmother and reached out his hand to her, only for her to flinch away as her trembling hands covered her stricken face. She mumbled indecipherable things in a frenzy.

"Kasim, what's going on?" Suriya urged him.

"She was hitting our Grandmother with that." Kasim pointed at the offensive feather duster that had rolled to the center of the room.

Suriya looked at the feather duster and then back at Kasim with a look of disbelief in her eyes.

She shook her head, "But, Vetna is Grandmother's oldest servant. Vetna's been with her ever since she was a girl, she would never…" her words trailed off as she took in the state of her frail Grandmother trembling on the floor.

Suriya's thoughts raced in her silence as she stared at Vetna, unwilling to believe it.

"Yes. It's me, Kasim." He finally answered the question this Grandmother asked him when he woke up in this body. He approached Grandmother again, this time she didn't back away.

He carefully undid the shoulder knots of her dress, trying his best to be gentle so he wouldn't startle her again. He pulled back a layer of fabric and exposed her back.

Suriya's breath hitched as she witnessed the disturbing sight. Kasim hesitated, a mixture of fury and sorrow reflected in his eyes as he saw the maze of bruises and scars covering Grandmother's frail back, the disturbing shades of blue, purple, yellow and brown covered her skin in the shape of thin lines, a haunting testament to her suffering.

Suriya's beautiful face contorted as if she was in pain, "When did this… How could this—"

Much of the bruising and scars were not recent. Kasim wondered how long this had been going on, and why this poor old woman's family members had taken this long to find out.

She was like a bird trapped in the cage of old age. While her flock was outside flying in the sky, a snake had found its way in.

"It's not what you think…" Vetna's quivering voice broke through their stupor.

"S-since she's lost her mind, she's been very clumsy. I can't stop her from falling over all the time. That's why, that's why—"

The sound of Suriya slapping Vetna across the face echoed around the room. Vetna screamed while clutching her reddening cheek.

Suriya stalked towards the middle of the room and picked up the feather duster, raising it above her head as she charged towards Vetna. Although this burst of violence was unexpected from Suriya, he couldn't blame her. In fact, if she hadn't picked up the duster, he might of.

The Ish-Kanaan family was just managing to keep the ancestral palace standing. The four remaining members of the family were not united in their cause. The old matriarch had withered with old age and was reliant on her grandchildren. From what he'd gathered so far, Kasim was intent on abandoning the Ish-Kanaan name to travel the world. Suriya wanted money to secure herself a place in a better family. Einar seemed to take pride in his lineage but spent his time indulging in debauchery. Since they were always apart, none of the three grandchildren noticed that their Grandmother's longtime maid had turned on her.

Kasim didn't have years of memories with the old woman, but guilt and shame still wrapped around his heart, perhaps it was natural inclination of this body forcing him to feel this way. The only relief to the unwelcome discomfort was listening to Vetna's pain.

Vetna's a cries echoed throughout the palace, not disturbing Kasim at all as he carefully tied back up Grandmother's dress. At some point she had stopped trembling, she just lay still on her side staring at an empty corner again.

The noise attracted Einar to the scene. By the time he arrived, Kasim was sitting cross legged on the floor, with Grandmother's head in his lap. Suriya leaned against the wall, the duster tucked under her armpit and her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the beating she gave the cleaner had thoroughly exhausted her, with bloodshot eyes she stared at the empty space in front of her - lost in thought. Vetna was unconscious on the floor, her face covered in dust, blood was seeping through the back of her clothes.

The corners of Einar's mouth twitched.