After the rebellion was quelled, Prye City, the Royal Capital, finally welcomed true peace.
It was not the dead silence before a storm, but the serenity of sweet rain after a long drought. Shops that had once been tightly shuttered reopened one after another throughout the streets and alleys. The creaking of doors being removed became the trumpet call of the city's awakening. The fragrance of freshly baked wheat bread drifted from bakeries, fresh cuts of meat hung from butcher shops' hooks, and counters in cloth stores were once again piled with silks and woolens in every color. Vendors' cries rose and fell once more—vegetable sellers, fishmongers, candied hawthorn sellers—their varied accents intertwining into a market symphony brimming with the warmth of everyday life.
Teahouses and taverns were once more filled with customers. The subjects people discussed gradually shifted from their initial fear and unease to hopes and dreams for the life ahead. Some talked about the newly issued tax-reduction decree, calculating how many silver coins they would save this year. Others discussed Her Highness the Princess's speech in the church, praising her for being young yet poised in speech, with much of the Former King's bearing. Still others quietly exchanged details about last night's failed rebellion, both awed by and admiring of Lord Karl's thunderous methods. Occasionally, a few fools who had drunk too much would start complaining that the new policies were too harsh, only to be immediately stopped by those around them—"Do you have a death wish? Walls have ears!" The man would promptly fall silent, hunch his neck, and lower his head to drink.
Carnford patrols still performed their duties throughout the city every day, their blue uniforms especially striking under the sunlight. Yet their presence had transformed from an initial deterrent into a source of