Fine-Grained Details

Budweis City's train station had become a realm of clamor and dust as soon as it was built. The brand-new stone platform bore witness to goods and merchants traveling north and south. The air mingled the damp heat of steam, the aroma of food from the snack carts, and the sweat and perfume of the passengers.

The newspapers said that the parliament of the Duchy of Weissen was recently discussing a new law to ban passengers who hadn't bathed, smelled bad, or worn perfume from riding the train. After standing on the platform for a while, Holáček decided it was a very good idea.

The train departed that day, and the platform fell quiet for a moment before growing busy again.

Several workers were carefully unrolling a heavy carpet across the platform.

Naturally, the carpet wasn't expensive Oriental silk or the velvet favored by nobles. They didn't have that kind of money. It was just ordinary linen, recently dyed. Yet, stretched from the platform all the way to the exit, it still created an air of solemnity and warmth.

"A little farther to the left. Yes, there. Smooth out that wrinkle!"

The stationmaster stood in the middle of the platform, hands clasped behind his back as he carefully inspected every detail.

On Jory's advice, they were laying out the red carpet as a trial run, both to confirm the route and to make sure there was enough room.

The approach had indeed proved useful. When Holáček came to inspect, he realized that according to his original plan, there would be too many people standing on either side of the red carpet, forcing the band to play from much farther away.

Meanwhile, faint strains of brass and strings mingled in rehearsal from the theater beside the station square.

It was the