He stood. She followed, and Sareem took her hand again.

The central square of the capital was a large area that could hold hundreds people. It had a mosaic of the sun and moon in their eternal dance sprawled beneath the feet of those gathering around a central stage. The crowd was beginning to thicken, and it was soon shoulder-to-shoulder.

Six people, men and women, took the stage. Vhalla was entranced. She had never seen Northerners before, she realized. Vhalla was certain she would have remembered a green person. Their skin was a deep forest viridian, with swirling dots and embellishments in silver. Combined with their masks carved from tree bark, they were like mystical creatures and completely mesmerized her.

A woman walked across the edge of the stage, then faced the crowd who had gathered on all sides. “Good people of the South.” Her accent was thick and muffled through the faceless mask she wore. “We have come under flags of peace to break bread with you. For your fine hospitality, we would like to provide some light entertainment in honor of your Mother Sun.”

They started juggling simple objects: sacks of beans and leather balls. The crowd began to ooh and aah as they added daggers and swords into the mix. The Northerners began moving and tossing the variety of objects to each other until all six were involved in a circular pattern of thrown objects. Vhalla was stunned by their control and deft hands. They made it look easy in their fearlessness.

When the show came to a close, a roar of applause rang out and the six took a bow. The same woman walked to the edge of the stage again.

“Good people, I hope you enjoyed today’s show. We hope you can make it for all of our shows leading up to our grand finale on the night of the Gala.” The woman held out her arms. “Tell all your friends!” She gave a wave with both hands and led her companions off the stage.

“I wonder what they’ll do for the finale...” Vhalla pondered aloud.

“We can find out, together. Come with me.” Sareem smiled and took her hand.

“You know I’m not one for the crowds on the last night of the festival,” she murmured a half-hearted excuse.

“Two isn’t a crowd.” Sareem began leading her away from the square in the slowly dissipating mass of people. “It would only be you and I.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Vhalla bit her lower lip, conflicted. Sareem hadn’t been doing a poor job, and the advice of the older ladies from the palace resonated back to her. Marry young and fulfill the natural role of a woman. Sareem clearly cared for her. She glanced up at him and was rewarded with a warm smile.

“All right,” Vhalla agreed softly. “I’ll meet you.”

“Meet me at The Golden Bun,” he pointed to the bakery as they passed down the road. “When the moon is one third in the sky. The finales normally happen at the moon’s apex so that’ll give us plenty of time. I know how girls like to get ready.”

Sareem laughed, and Vhalla tried to laugh along. She had no interest in getting ready for a second date with Sareem. Doubt was already tinting the edges of her decision, but he seemed so happy about it all that she had not the faintest inkling for how to back out of it now.

“Speaking of getting ready and fancy clothes and all...” Sareem looked up at the sky. “It’s almost time for the noon precession of Senators.”

As they climbed up the sloping, winding roads into the nicer area of town, the houses began to shift from white plaster to stone and solid wood construction. He led her in a direction she had never been before and the houses became even more opulent. Iron fences and tall hedges enclosed homes that actually had a rare small yard or garden. Almost every house had a noble seal upon it bearing a region of the Empire or a family crest, most Vhalla did not recognize nor have any interest in. Some houses had two flags; one that was the signet of the Empire, and another that was the signet of a country or region.

“The ones with two flags are senators’ homes. Those without are simply members of the Court,” Sareem pointed out. “It’s not a bad job, get a house and all with the position.” Vhalla stared in awe; some houses even had colored glass window designs like the library. “Of course, you have to be elected to the Senate, so I’m told it’s not an easy job to get.”

“Well worth it, I’d say.” Vhalla was still taking in the wonder about her.

“It’s annoying how well some live, isn’t it?” Sareem chuckled.

She nodded mutely, instantly thinking of Aldrik and the glimpses she had gained into his world. Vhalla did not know for certain, but she would guess that nothing in the houses they passed compared to the gold-guided, stained wood, and rich carpeted parlors of the prince’s home. In the back of her mind she wondered if he was there now, reading at a window. She wondered if there was anywhere else in the world she’d rather be.

Eventually, the houses gave way to a wide open expanse. The side road merged with a large marble street that matched the building at one end. It was a large circular structure with columns around the outside. Vhalla had never cared much for politics, and she didn’t recognize any of the names written on the plaques bolted to the pillars.

A good few others had lined up alongside the road. Vhalla looked about them curiously.

“When did politics become a spectator sport?” she inquired.

“Since always,” Sareem grinned. “I imagine some are here to lobby for a cause, others will likely scream dissent at the senators as they leave, while a few probably came for the same reason as us.” He shrugged. “The Senate is meant to keep the common folk happy by dealing with small things on behalf of the Empire, but that doesn’t mean they always do a good job.”

“Doesn’t it seem rather pointless?” Vhalla mused. The Emperor always had the final say.

“The Empire’s always been at war, maybe when the Emperor has time to focus on matters of state it will be,” Sareem joined in her musing. “But I think it’s nice to have some way that the common folk get a voice, otherwise it’d only be the Court, and it’s not as though the highborn really care for our plights.”

A bell rang out from over the top of the Senate Hall.

“Here they come,” Sareem whispered on the thirteenth ring.

It was indeed a spectacle. Men and women of all ages and shapes trickled out of the marble building by ones and twos. He told her there were thirteen in total so the show wouldn’t be over too quickly. Some made speedy departures through the crowd and off down side streets, presumably making a quick retreat home. Others took a more leisurely stroll. Just as Sareem had predicted, some people shouted while others shook hands with their elected officials.

But it wasn’t this that kept the smile upon Vhalla’s cheeks. It was their clothing. Clearly, drapery was the order of the day, a traditional Southern style that was quickly going out of fashion for the tailored looks of the West and practical sensibilities of the East. Every senator bore a golden medallion on a heavy chain, but the similarities ended there. The first was a man swathed in Eastern purple silk with a gold hem. He wore his whitening hair up in curls with peacock feathers sticking out at odd angles.

The next woman had a pinched face and a pointed nose, one that Sareem couldn’t help but comment on.

“She looks like she’s been forced to smell her own waste,” he whispered eagerly into her ear. Vhalla bit her knuckles to keep from laughing.