“Psst. Psst.”
“What?” Kriag whispered back to me. Walking through the flower court he neared toward me. I signaled to come to me with my hand. It’s one of the few hours in the day when no one visits the flower garden. Most of the time someone is here, either the gardener watering the plants. Or servants gathering for some photo time.
He walked to me. I glanced around for anyone who could see us. I clutched his hands very immediately after seeing no possibility of being caught.
“Is this, Okay?” He asked me. I nodded and treasured his hand in mine. Surpassing the dark thoughts from yesterday’s dinner I tried to see the brighter in everything. Nothing is permanent. Nor will this feeling be.
“Whom are you wearing?” I queried as we walked at a slow pace. A comforting dance of steps.
