The servants have begun their day’s work and he calls Maria over to himself, grateful he was allowed to sleep in the main room. “Whatever comes,” he thinks, “only one thing matters – nothing must be allowed to harm these people.” He turns to the woman, her own eyes still heavy with the remnants of sleep, and says, “Should there be a well protected room in this place, I suggest that you and the others go there with haste.” He turns abruptly from the surprised woman as another person dashes into the room. Recognizing her as the puzzling woman whose gaze he met the previous night, he turns back to Maria. "Tell me, before you go, what is the best way to get to the roof."
__________________
One does not control the Wind.
One enters it, feels its freedom. And moves.
|