"Semiramis walked down the hall, her fluffy gray tail erect and waving gently. She stopped at the closed door of the Crème Rouge room and sat down, looking far above her to the transom, which was fully open to allow as much air into the room as possible. She blinked her huge golden eyes, then hunkered down a bit, her forelegs flat to the floor, her butt in the air. Semiramis made plenty of jumps as high as the one she was about to make. After all, the transom was only seven feet from the floor. She sprang, her front claws catching the wooden edge of the transom. Semiramis scrambled with her strong little back legs and her strong back claws, stubbornly got a purchase on the edge of the transom and she pulled herself upright. Standing, she balanced on all four feet for a moment on the very narrow edge of the transom, whiskers forward. Then, with her lovely long fur waving in the air momentarily like a gray chiffon scarf, she dropped to the room’s floor, landing gracefully and silently. Of course, her delicate mauve-gray paw pads made no sound on the polished teak floor as she walked across it and across the big Turkey carpet, to sit down, looking up at the bed. She didn’t recognize the woman who was sleeping in it. But, that was alright. Semiramis jumped effortlessly onto the foot of the bed. She pressed her nose to the comforter. She inhaled, deeply. Ah, yes, plenty of Alexandre’s scent! It made Semiramis feel secure. She dearly loved Alexandre. He was one of her favorite humans and for years she’d missed his presence. She was very glad he’d returned. Semiramis kneaded the comforter thoroughly but briefly, then curled into a soft furry ball to rest, napping until she decided to leave to the room, by the transom, as usual. …She was a queen, and a good queen always appreciates her subjects. Semiramis was a very, very good queen." --- Copyright 2026, by Antoinette Beard.
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