Trafalgar packed in his room while Aurevane toasted itself outside.
The city had settled on its preferred version of the day already. Arlen di Marest had claimed first place, Orven von Halbrecht had somehow transformed into the stern mentor of a young inventor, and the Grand Alchemical Conclave would be remembered by most guests as another varnished event swathed in applause, banners, and expensive wine. The audience had been spared all of it - the homunculus on the stage, the words Void-born material, the sight of Esmond shackled like a rotten secret given human shape.
