As I walked through the halls, the uneasiness in my stomach only grew stronger. Through the veil I wore, I could see guests talking amongst themselves, enjoying the assortment of dishes and music played by the melakaar. If this event was being hosted under different circumstances, perhaps I would have enjoyed myself too.
The light jewelry I dressed in clinked with one another. I easily recognized some people here, relatives and friends. I just hoped that they couldn't recognize me. To prevent such from happening, I pulled at my veil, making it hang well below my chin.
My luck stayed, but only for a fleeting moment, for I felt a hand on my shoulder and whipped around in surprise. Aadhira was standing there, staring at me. "Miss, have you come with the dancers?" I felt my tongue in my throat. I suppose I was a little under dressed with how light the fabric I wore was. However, there was no way that I could answer her. I continued to stare at her as if she spoke in a foreign language.
"Miss?" It seemed as if I could not breathe, for my breath hitched. But before she could question me further, or possibly even ask me to lift my veil, someone called her over to help replenish the laddus. She glanced at me, looking me up and down. Then she left, and I did too, finding another place where hopefully I wouldn't run into her.
YOU ARE READING
The Poet, The Princess, and The Promise: A Short Story
Short StoryWhen 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...
