A Cold and Harrowing Night [Shiho and Grinberet]

[Shiho]

People of our shared and glorious land! May I have your undivided attention?"​

The man at the podium bellows out his voice, echoing through the small crowd at the castle, as scattered eyes gather towards the center to begin. He's a man dressed in lavish white robes, made of fine silk crafted in the royal churches of the capital itself. A lit candle hangs from every wall, their flames whispering with the faint wisps of the wind. Half-hour to eleven on the night of August 13th, 1632. The debates have finally begun.

...Damned bastards, the lot of them. Can't keep their hands to their bloody selves and can't stop bickering over the littlest things. No better than the peasant and beggars on the streets, they are.

"Now," he turns his head to me. "Daughter of the Holannis-- Beatrice, was it? Please rise."

I stand up and walk towards the stand. A scarlet dress, hair like strands of gold and eyes like a deepest ocean, and with a pair of breasts and hips I've come to realize give me more attention than I'd prefer.