One week passed in the blink of an eye and the city lord's banquet kicked off.
First came the arrivals. Young men and women from the prominent forces across the area made their way to the central city, carriages rolling through the manor gates one after another through the morning and into the afternoon. Each one presented their badge at the entrance, was checked against the list, and was led through to the main hall.
Bird Cage.
Wind Devil Sect.
Long Clan.
Even the Black Dog Underworld had sent people.
The main hall was already filling by the time the last carriages arrived, voices and the clink of glasses building into a steady ambient hum beneath the high ceilings. Tables arranged across the floor, lit well, decorated without being excessive. The kind of space that communicated wealth through proportion and material rather than loud display.
