Jiu clapped her hands.
The sound was light, but it traveled cleanly through the street.
The young attendants aligned themselves along both sides of the stone steps leading to the tavern. In their hands were shallow trays filled with orange petals, each tray carved from pale wood and lacquered carefully at the edges.
They bowed deeply.
Two attendants stepped forward first. Their movements were fluid, almost rehearsed, their sleeves sweeping the air as they ascended halfway and turned, gesturing inward with synchronized grace.
An invitation.
Petals began to scatter across the steps.
From above and below.
Soft orange against grey stone.
Behind Kiaria and his companions, the street did not celebrate.
Whispers hardened.
A fruit vendor muttered under his breath. A child was pulled away by his mother. A pair of merchants exchanged glances that carried quiet resentment.
The tavern welcomed them with flowers.
Rushway Street welcomed them with jealousy.
Kiaria walked forward.
