Time passed slowly, like steam rising from the hotpots below. The scent of roasted duck and spirit herbs lingered in the air as the kitchen fires crackled downstairs, the chef humming an off-key tune, unaware of the storm that had just passed in the room above.
The city outside continued to run without stopping for anyone—bustling streets, distant laughter, bells ringing from a passing merchant cart. And then, a shadow whistled through the bright sky.
A sleek, dark-feathered bird, no larger than a grown man's arm, shot through the air from the direction of the royal palace. The bird had its wings spread wide and its eyes closed, basking in the freedom with something akin to pride flashing through its face.
The bird twisted and turned through the gaps between the wires of the bridge. Its crimson beak glinted in the sunlight as it somersaulted through the city and barged through opened doors, violating the privacies of the people with no shame.
