"Rumble, rumble!"
"Stop making so much noise..."
"Rumble, rumble!"
"Could you quiet down?"
"Rumble, rumble!"
"I finally get a chance to sleep in, so why do they have to keep shaking everything from morning to noon?!"
With her sweet dreams interrupted, Geya could no longer contain her irritation.
She threw back her silk bedding, planted her bare pink feet on the wooden floor, and, amid its creaking, slammed the window shut with a bang.
The roaring in her ears grew quieter, but the tremors did not diminish at all. They jostled her so much that even her breasts bounced—
She liked the feel of silk against her skin and did not wear pajamas to bed.
Her morning grumpiness drove Geya into hysterics:
"I hate [Founding Day]!"
The vibrations coming through her soles mingled with the sounds lingering in her ears, resonating through her blood and giving her the illusion that she was inside the [Taren Royal Theater]—
The theater stood in the very center of [Lingering City], the Tyron Empire's capital, Sotoma.
In Tyron Eloquence, "Sotoma" actually meant "melted gold."
It referred to what remained after adamantine had been extracted from gold.
The commoners of the imperial capital did not consider themselves any nobler than people living along the borders.
They made up ninety percent of the city's population and kept its most basic functions running.
They earned higher wages but faced correspondingly higher expenses.
And they certainly could not hold their heads high before the noble lords who comprised the remaining ten percent—
So much so that they often questioned the point of lingering in this city, unwilling to leave.
Thus, although the nobles of the Tyron Empire still called this land Sotoma, commoners and travelers had inevitably come to define it as [Lingering City].
The entire Royal Theater