The courtyard pulsed with joy.
Children perched on shoulders, waving crimson-and-gold flags, their faces painted in streaks of flame.
Elders clapped and laughed, gripping each other's hands as though the day's warmth could banish every cold memory of hardship.
The smell of roasted meats, sweet pastries, and spiced wine mingled with the fragrant petals that floated lazily in the air.
A man in a baker's apron laughed heartily, shaking his head as he spoke. "King Reganath ruled like a warrior, that's for sure. But Queen Zahara... she'll rule like fire itself. Warm when needed, destructive when necessary."
"She's already better than him," another chuckled. "Not that Reganath was bad. God knows he kept the empire from invading. But the girl... she listens. I remember when she stopped by my shop to ask about grain prices. She was ten!"
