The staging area at the edge of the competition grounds held workers so busily preparing that it had attracted the attention of the night market attendees. Troupe members and extra hires alike worked on last-minute changes - carrying panels, adjusting costumes, and marking positions for props.
Fusand led the Talcres woman through the chaos slowly turning into shape, noting how different the energy looked from when he'd left them just hours ago. Elua er Goltbred's precise instructions, delivered through bird-mail, had accelerated what would normally take days of prep into a *very* compressed timeline.
'Getting things done must be easy if you throw enough money at it, huh?'
He quickly decided to stop thinking about it after considering he was also a 'project' where her riches were being 'invested' in. The teenager was learning a lot of bad lessons from the heiress and her family.
"Wait, is that-"
"Please don't ask me to explain anything, I really did make a promise."
