The bell's third note faded through the palace, but nothing followed it. No guards rushed into the hall. No weapons were drawn. The featureless giants did not surround Ludwig's group or reach for the people who had entered without invitation. Even the white cube that had once been a man was carried away with the quiet efficiency of a servant removing an empty plate from a table.
The inhabitants simply returned to what they had been doing, which was almost nothing.
The beautiful woman at the table lowered her eyes toward the food before her. Her hand rested beside the untouched bread, neither reaching for it nor pulling away. The people who had watched the resistance turned their heads back toward windows, fountains, and laden tables. Their peaceful expressions settled into place as though a man had not just screamed, fought for his freedom, and been compressed into part of the palace floor before their eyes.
