Liliandra Questions Everything..

.. and tonight she has snuck away from the family gala to explore the lower city.

The stink and press of the crowds is overwhelming, at first, but she quickly begins to see the charms of it all.

Brawlers spilling out of a seedy saloon, the thunks and slaps of their meaty fists, raucous laughter from the gathered proles, soused from their cheap grain beer, foam on their lips as they guffaw.

The street performers juggling and balancing on a ball, crude puppets depicting aristocratic folk such as herself, dueling and betrayal in the halls of power, represented by crudely painted backboards. She stands at the back of the crowds and smiles.

Everyone down here is filthy and bedraggled and free. Before long, her mother's sentries, in their gleaming mail and house livery, spot her and bull through the throngs to her side, politely demanding she returned to the safety and comfort of the compound.

With a sigh she acquiesces, but makes her plans for a more permanent exodus.