In the vast halls of Gildya Magna, gold marble columns stretched up like arms of giants and reached toward the barrel vault above. Polished floor tiles formed geometric shapes, but with all the people around, Cahala couldn’t tell if there was anything more to the pattern. The corner of her mouth twitched when another person almost ran into her and scurried off with no more than a murmured apology. Back in her land, such behavior would justify a death sentence if she felt the incident spoiled her benevolent mood.
“We should have come with the full entourage.” Phuran stayed behind her. “Maybe then those commoners would show appropriate respect.”
“We’d waste our time in official meetings.” Cahala hid her frustration. Even without an army of dames and servants, they should have seen her fair
