Legend of Ransera

Angevin did him the courtesy of rising as well, and seeing him out.

As good as his word, invitations arrived at the temporary embassy; invitations for meals with other government officials, an invitation to watch the low-key rugby match, an invitation to the Pfenning Theater where he saw some short, new works that were obviously the attempts of a proud people to make sense of recent losses, as well as a bel canto aria in Vallenor sung by a talented tenor. It was clear that while the shine had rubbed off the brass of the Brass City, there was substance there, and if he explored at all, he saw that they were rebuilding and trying to build back better than they had before. Perhaps, if Zaichaer survived for millennia, it might look akin to a city like Silfanore whose architecture spoke of uncountable artistic movements and historical events. There was, perhaps, more that they had in common with his people than anyone thought.

Or not.

There was also an invitation from Admiral Angevin and his wife to alight from the ground on the Black Swan and see the Greater Institute of Technology, which had been saved from destruction and brought aloft for protection. Within, there were great works of art and examples of technological advances side by side, and fine, parquet floors where one could imagine grand balls and masques. Mrs. Angevin was an erudite lady and seemed quite pleased for an excuse to escape what she called 'one hundred days of darkness' or those first three months or so where a newborn was a constant well of need.

She was generally considered delightful and her husband was certainly less businesslike in her presence.

All things told, Rhydian was treated much like a visiting blueblood from Kathiid or similar. There were worse ways to be treated in Zaichaer.