In the bustling chaos of the Grand Plaza, the festive roar had reached a fever pitch. Fire-dancers spun in dizzying circles, leaving trails of orange sparks that danced like fireflies against the dark stone of the surrounding buildings. Brielle clutched her small paper bag of honey cakes as if it were a lifeline. She turned in a slow circle, her heart starting to thump against her ribs.
One moment, she had been walking a respectful two paces behind Lord Elric's broad shoulders. The next, a troupe of wandering musicians had marched between them, and the dark-haired couple had simply… vanished.
"My Lady? Lord Elric?" Brielle's voice was a small, fragile thing, easily crushed by the sound of a nearby drum.
