The morning air felt thick with anticipation. Or maybe that was just the smell of vendors setting up food stalls for tomorrow's festival.
Melisa walked through the palace corridors, noting how even the servants moved with nervous energy. Whispered conversations stopped when she passed. Some nim nodded respectfully. Others looked away.
[Great. Nothing says "unity" like people acting weird around you.]
She found Sirah first, standing alone on a balcony overlooking the city. The darian's massive frame hunched against the railing, her one hand gripping the stone.
Melisa left her to her brooding.
Elsewhere, the sounds hit her before she even rounded the corner. Wet noises. Moaning. A rhythmic thumping against a wall.
[Of course.]
