Downhill

The town seemed livelier down the hill, and so Xalendra proceeded onward through the crowd, marveling at how the firelight brought out the varicolored flags and shining metals against the dark night. As she walked she wound up approaching a large building standing red among the gray and brown, pausing a moment to gaze up at the crest above its simple doorway.

What she noticed to be an upside-down heart shape, engraved with whorling detail, was positioned below a tall stained-glass window that had a slight flare at the top end, above which the white-edged roof curled outward. If she didn't expect any better, she might find the implication of the display to be a little bit... vulgar. The princess could not say she was especially familiar with the shape it brought to mind, but if she could notice it, surely whoever designed the building knew what they were doing...

As Xalendra stood in the street regarding the facade, she became aware of a hooded figure whose attention turned her way from beside the building. She realized how she was staring open-mouthed at it, and felt herself blushing as she averted her gaze.

The figure moved in her direction, arms held behind their back as they gracefully approached. Beneath their hood a chiseled jaw lifted at her acknowledgment, grinning warmly. With a whirl of his cloak's tail, he came to a stop before the princess.

“Greetings, and a merry Midsummer's night to you, Sister.” His voice was smooth and silvery, the buoyant mood illuminating his shadowed eyes. Up close, he appeared handsomely composed, electing to lean in at the waist in an informal bow.

Xalendra had to refrain from her impulsive royal response, wishing for a veil of anonymity. She simply returned the nod, clearing her throat lightly. “A good night to you, sir.”

His grin shone the brighter as he stood straight, hands still clasped behind him under his black satin cloak. “Were you looking for reprieve in our Sanctuary?” His shining eyes flicked over to the red building. “It is open to all, I assure you. The festivities have yet to die down completely. I'd be delighted to welcome you inside, if you so desire.”

He pulled a hand out of his cloak to hold it out toward the simple door. The princess realized it must be a house like one of her Father's church sects, however she didn't recognize it—surely any holy place would not intentionally design its facade with potential vulgarity. Still, the man's manners were quite priestly, she thought. Such a place might be host to more subdued festivities than the outdoor Midsummer Festivals, which appealed to her in that she didn't want to be overwhelmed.

She glanced down the street again, considering the more jubilant crowds, before looking back to the cloaked man. He regarded her expectantly, his smile soft and warm. She didn't want to risk offending a priest, but she never did find church all that exciting.