Georgiana had come to St. Rumbold's Cathedral by almost exactly the same route as yesterday. Medieval cities were nearly all like this: the town hall, cathedral, market, and other facilities were all located in the city center. The cloth merchants' guildhall even stood beside the town hall.
After getting out of the carriage, she first saw a tall bell tower. It was also the highest point in Mechelen, with no fewer than twenty bells inside. They were the source of that pleasant music.
Every city had a landmark. Florence's landmark, the Loggia dei Lanzi, stood beside the Piazza della Signoria. It had originally been meant for members of the Medici family to watch performances from. From 1376 to 1382, German mercenaries had been stationed there, hence the name Loggia dei Lanzi.
In other words, while guild craftsmen from every region stood beneath the blazing sun in the courtyard of the government hall, awaiting the outcome of the discussions inside, those German mercenaries had lounged in the shade beneath the loggia and watched plays. By the sixteenth century, Florence had reached its zenith, and the Loggia dei Lanzi had become increasingly magnificent. Not only had many sculptures been added, but it had also become the place where Florence's magistrates took their oaths of office.
Mechelen's bell tower had been left unfinished halfway through construction due to lack of funds, its roof hastily capped.
Her gaze quickly shifted from the bell tower to the cathedral entrance. At the head of the welcoming party stood a tall, thin old man. Dressed in full bishop's robes, he stood ramrod straight and looked remarkably vigorous, not at all like an eighty-year-old. Behind him stood the entire clergy, but... she did not see Bonaparte.
"I knew it," she muttered, then gathered her skirts and stepped down