When others held funerals, it went as it should. When Ajab attended one, this had to happen—not that he would know any different. Still, if such things were part of funerals, who would ever wish to have one?
Morriba exhaled slowly as she steadied herself. Events had veered, if only slightly, into the unexpected—but their purpose remained unchanged, and everything else could be dealt with later. She turned to the King, whose steady gaze unsettled her for a brief moment. Then he nodded. Taking that as command enough, she returned his nod with a bow, rang the bells anew, swung the leaf, and resumed her deliberate, dance.
Though the incident subsided, its effects lingered briefly. Then, one by one, those strewn across the floor began to rise, slow and tentative, like young sprouts bending instinctively toward the sun.
