On the eve of the meeting, the Frost Dragon Territory was brightly illuminated, the snow reflecting the candlelight and flames, warm as day.
Astha's manor was decorated lavishly, with gold thread tapestries hanging on the walls and ruby chandeliers casting a cold light.
The Northern Lords stood in the hall, holding goblets, praising each other's fiefs and bloodlines, the air filled with the scent of spices and false laughter.
All this was to welcome Louis's Red Tide fireworks.
At the banquet the day before yesterday, Louis casually suggested, "The fireworks from the Red Tide are a new craft. Perhaps they could add some color to the Northern nights; you might see them at the banquet."
These Northern Lords, except for the few from the Southeast's Red Tide faction, had never seen the so-called "fireworks."
As idle talk, the suggestion had everyone perked up because who wouldn't want to try something new?
"Fireworks? What's that?"
