I turned in the voice's direction, whispering to Nana D, “What's she doing here?”
Madam Zenya promenaded across the courtyard in a flowing gold and black gown, the ribbon tails of her dress trailing like comets across a great big blue sky. Covered from head to toe in shiny satin, her triumphant entrance exceeded all expectations of grandeur. A robust headdress gallantly rested on broad shoulders, ensuring we saw nothing of her actual face or body—just the extravagant costume. The woman was as much of a spectacle as they'd warned me about, igniting my curiosity beyond belief.
“I apologize for interrupting the most solemn of ceremonies,” she announced in a hearty and guttural greeting, waving one hand high above her shoulder swinging it through the air. When finished, it landed directly in
