The carriage slowed as it passed through the gates and onto the broad road leading into Paris.
Elisabeth leaned forward slightly and looked out the window.
They arrived at Paris.
The streets were wide. Deliberately so. Two carriages could pass without slowing. Sidewalks stretched along both sides, raised and clean, separated from the road by neat stone curbs. Rows of trees lined the avenues, giving it a scenic vibe.
Most importantly, there was no stench.
No stagnant water. No refuse piled at corners. No open gutters running along the street. Drainage grates sat flush with the stone, spaced at regular intervals.
The carriage rolled deeper into the city. Buildings stood uniform in height, stone façades aligned in clean lines. Balconies matched. Windows matched. Even the spacing between doorways followed a pattern.
On the sidewalks, people moved with purpose.
