Esmera let out an exasperated breath, pretending that a smile didn't tease at her mouth, while the Prince and his pompous cat snickered.

She might've had a retort, but it disappeared as soon as they stepped out onto the streets of Parnakshi.

All around them were buildings with sharp corners and white walls interrupted by glossy black doors. The roofs curled out at the edges like inky, calligraphic swirls. They might have been black once, but the snow and other elements had battered the colour out of them, turning them grey.

Esmera's mouth fell open at the explosion of colours fluttering out of windows, the lines of little triangular flags waving where they hung across the fronts of buildings, the clothes flapping as children chased each other along the road. Esmera had thought she'd blend in better if she covered her bright parsi with a darker shawl, but that only made her stand out.

Even so, she pulled it tighter across her chest. She'd rather stand out as a mysterious, faceless figure than reveal her identity to anyone. These people were all strangers to her. Anyone could've killed her family. Anyone could've ordered their massacre. She shivered at the thought.

Whoever had sent Esmera away from Milatanur had probably meant to keep her safe from this world, not for her to find her way back to it, but a goddess's will had overwhelmed theirs.

There wasn't a hint of murder in any of the faces Esmera passed, even though the people they belonged to were all different shapes and colours. Some were taller and some shorter, some fairer like Esmera, some darker like Belaren. It was a barrage of sights, an assault of different voices and dialects and sounds.

Even their clothes varied slightly, their belts knotted differently around their waists, their parsis tucked in different styles, the fabrics and embroidery on their clothing speaking of different occupations and classes and maybe even towns for all Esmera knew.

This was Milatanur's beating heart. It thrummed within Esmera like nothing she had ever felt before, yet there was something unmistakably familiar about this atmosphere.

Perhaps she had come here as an infant on her mother's hip, too long ago for her to remember now. Perhaps they had strolled through the marketplace, her mother telling her about the spices and colours and trinkets. She tried to picture it, but the figures were faceless in the image her mind conjured up.

Esmera abandoned the daydream, trailing after Tauram and Lundas instead. She stayed close enough to them to avoid anyone noticing that she was the only human in sight without a snake slithering at her ankles or a butterfly fluttering about her head.

That would change, soon. Soon, Esmera would have a bird on her shoulder. Soon, she'd be as happy and whole and content as these laughing, smiling, chattering Milatanurans. She didn't have to worry about them noticing her otherness. They were oblivious to anything but their joy and the work that filled their days and their pockets.

Tauram strode, tall and commanding with Lundas slinking beside him. Eyes wandered to him then flitted away as quickly. No one dared to look his way for too long, but Esmera was sure they would've stared if they knew he was the Prince they hadn't seen or heard from in a decade.

"Esmera?" Tauram stopped and looked back. It was impossible to see his face under his hood, but his voice told her he was frowning. "Come here."

She stepped forward. He took hold of her shoulder. His hand was so strong and sure on her, and something hot flared somewhere inside her.

"I don't want to lose you." Tauram resumed walking, pulling Esmera along beside him.

That brought Esmera down to earth. That was why he held her so tightly, not because he liked it as much as she apparently and unfortunately did.

She rolled her eyes, equally at him and herself. "I'm not a child."

Esmera felt Tauram look at her, but he said nothing. Maybe he did see her as a child. Maybe he even saw her as the baby he was betrothed to over two decades ago.

The start of what should've become an arranged marriage was weird when Esmera thought of it like that, but now that she and Tauram were adults walking in step, the thought of them being engaged didn't seem as weird as it had when she first heard it.

Even so, Esmera banished it. She and Tauram might've been betrothed, but that meant nothing when he loved someone else and she had no love left to give. It could only mean trouble that would get in the way of her goal.

Esmera and Tauram strolled past a narrow, rectangular pond bordered with water lilies, brushing past the couple sitting at its edge with their hands folded into each other's and a stall where an old man with startlingly white teeth offered fruits and vegetables to passers-by. They were bigger and juicier than anything Esmera had ever seen nature bear before. Lundas stayed on her and Tauram's heels, brushing against their ankles as if to remind them that he was there. Esmera was by now familiar enough with his touch not to jump at it.

A building emerged in front of them, the tallest in sight. It was two or three storeys above the others, like a stack of jewellery boxes, each smaller than the one below. "Shelter for Unclaimed and Abandoned Familiars" read the hand-painted sign above the open doors. Glittering gold rimmed the dark green writing.

Esmera looked up. She expected to see birds fluttering out of the highest windows and giant paws swiping at the sills, but there was nothing. Either the familiars weren't housed here, or they were well-contained enough not to be seen by the outside world.

Esmera's heart ached to imagine them shoved into cramped cages, away from the air and light they needed to thrive. That was why she had never liked going to zoos or any place animals were kept captive, but she had no choice now. Her lark awaited her. It was only paperwork and a process she had to undertake that stood between them.

Tauram lead Esmera up the stone steps and through the weathered pillars forming the entrance to the hall. On either side of the queue was a rope spanning the distance between two column pedestals crowned by a porcelain vase filled with sighing, whispering blooms. The line was only eight people long, all smiling adults each with a baby bundled in blankets or a toddler babbling and glowing with excitement.

Esmera smiled wistfully. That would've been her had she not been robbed of her childhood in Milatanur. She should've come here with her parents, not a man she had met only yesterday.

Everything about Esmera's life was upside down, but it was some consolation that she was taking the first step to right it.

Tauram kept his hand on Esmera's shoulder even though there was no longer any risk of her getting swept away by the crowd flowing past. She stood obediently, indulging in his touch more than she knew she should. Even so, she kept a cool sliver of space between them.

She hadn't ever been able to depend on the man she was married to. She certainly couldn't lean on the one she was betrothed to, one who was little more than a stranger to her, no matter how easy he made it for her to do so.

Esmera snuck a glance at Tauram, but his eyes were on the wooden desk at the furthest end of the hall. It was so huge that it drowned the woman sitting behind it. All that could be seen of her was her round face, her hair pinned in a perfect bun at the top of her head, and her hands directing the people at the front of the queue down a passage so long Esmera couldn't see the end of it.

She gulped. Thank goodness she had Tauram with her. She could see herself getting lost inside this building if it wasn't for him. She might've never even made it here without him.

The receptionist nibbled at the queue until it was Tauram and Esmera's turn to step up.

"Good morning. How can I help you?" The woman smiled at Tauram and Esmera.

If the hoods covering their faces unsettled her, she gave no sign of that. Her brown, cotton parsi was embroidered in dark blue. It looked somehow like a uniform, in contrast to Esmera's, which had been made for a princess's wardrobe.

"We're here to claim my friend's familiar." Although Tauram was in disguise, his voice was his own—crisp, deep, regal.

Esmera blinked at his choice to refer to her as his friend. She supposed he wasn't wrong to do so. They couldn't really call themselves acquaintances anymore after the hours they had talked, but having a friend for the first time in years felt weird to Esmera. Weird in a good way.

The woman's smile faltered, and her eyes widened. "Now there's a voice I haven't heard in ten years," she murmured.

Esmera tensed, ready to scream, to strike, to run, whatever she needed to do when this woman called security on her and Tauram. She should've known he'd be recognised. She should've known they needed proper disguises.

Tauram went very still. His hand remained firm on Esmera's shoulder. Like her, he might have looked down at the woman's name badge. "Anjarah Bhanlor," it read.

There was a grin in Tauram's voice when he spoke. "You haven't changed a bit, Anjarah."

He pronounced the name like An-jaar-aa.

The tension dissipated from Esmera's legs. There was no need for her to flee if this was someone Tauram trusted, if this was a stroke of good fortune, not bad.

A deep flush rose into the receptionist's brown cheeks. "You charmer you." Her blue nails flashed as she waved her hand.

Esmera couldn't help but roll her eyes. It was just their luck to bump into another of Tauram's former flames.

He was a prince. He didn't need anything but his title to win a woman's heart. It was downright unfair that he could even do so with his charm, but Esmera had no problem with it if it could get her what she wanted.

Anjarah raised her voice. "This way, please, sir and ma'am."

The man behind Esmera and Tauram in the queue frowned as his infant wriggled in his arms, but Anjarah aimed a professional and polite smile at him that nobody could argue with. "My colleague will tend to you momentarily."

He bristled but said nothing as Anjarah squeezed her ample hips from behind the desk. The second most beautiful bird Esmera had ever seen pattered out after her.

Its body was bulky for its little feet. Feathers crested its head, reminding Esmera of a peacock, but its feathers were different. There were iridescent blues and greens but also gleaming purples and yellows and shimming reds and oranges. It was every colour of the rainbow. It couldn't be more different from the drably dressed woman it was bound to.

Lundas growled. The bird squawked, scuttling close to Anjarah's ankles, keeping as much distance between him and the clouded leopard as he could. As he should.

"Come now, Lundas. You must remember Samier. That's not how we greet our friends."

Lundas's indignant snarl suggested that he didn't consider the bird a friend, but Tauram merely gave him a firm look.

"Behave yourself."

Anjarah let out a soft chuckle as she led Tauram and Esmera into a small room bulging out of the long passage leading out of the entrance hall. Her familiar scurried in ahead of them, its talons clicking against the floor.

"I'm glad our reunion wasn't this bumpy." She closed the door, sealing them all in with piles of parchment and the sweet smell of burning incense.

Sketches of familiars lined the walls, some Esmera would've recognised even if their species weren't labelled. They caught her eye and held it there.

There was a horned lark like the one who had been visiting her and a clouded leopard like Lundas. There was even a representation of Anjarah's familiar, which the curly script at the bird's sketched feet proclaimed to be a Himalayan monal. There was also a snarling viper and a tiny spider that Esmera hoped she never met while she was in Milatanur, among other things.

The grumbling of the crowd growing restless in the entrance hall was blocked out by the door, so Tauram's voice was the only one Esmera could hear. "We might've been like Lundas and Samier if we were a cat and a bird who hadn't seen each other in a decade."

"Fair enough." Anjarah's cheeks dimpled as she smiled. Esmera hadn't noticed that before. "So, Your Highness, what brings you back to Parnakshi?"

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Hello! I appreciate you reading The Whispers of Petals!

Quick question: what are your thoughts on the pacing of this story so far?

I've been struggling with chapters becoming too long for one story part, resulting in me having to split it, which means that less happens in a chapter than I had planned. I'm concerned that this is causing the story to move too slowly.

What do you think? I'd really appreciate any feedback on this!