There were no more servants running around the hall, safe for the few palace guards doing their job. Neither were there any guests loitering outside. "Shree, are you ready?"
I held out my hands, and he flew over. I tightened the ribbon on his leg one last time, just for measure. He cooed three times, nudged my palm with his beak, and cooed a fourth time before flying off my hand and over to the windowsill. I had already planted my rope there. All I needed to do now was descend, and that I did, with a cotton bag strapped around my body and Shree the pura following behind.
I was halfway down when the rope gave way, and to not fall and break something, I held onto the pillar I was climbing down from. The rope snapped, its sound louder in my ears than it probably was in reality.
It felt as if I were hugging the pillar, which, I later on realized, was exactly what I was doing. My hands grew sweaty, and I closed my eyes before I began slipping. Down, down, down, that's where I was going. In less than a minute, my feet came into contact with the ground. When I opened my eyes, I saw Shree looking at me, and I was almost certain that he was laughing because he began cooing.
"It must be quite the blessing to have the ability of flight," I muttered, the bird right behind me, still cooing away. I made my way around the palace perimeters through a route that proved to be empty. From there, I began my trek to the palace gates.
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The Poet, The Princess, and The Promise: A Short Story
ContoWhen two people who lead lives no different than the sun and moon love each other, how strong will their bond prove? And to what lengths would they go to protect it? ★ This short story is a gift for one of my dear friends - a dreamer, and, like me...