"There is an army outside, dear. Do you think your people are finally revolting from under your tyrannical rule?"
"What?"
A bead of dread fixed in Qatrand's heart as the train eased to a stop. Her wife had not seemed serious, but tendrils of spirit had still gone out further than usual to check. Questing along the platform and reading the state of affairs outside of the building before her eyes could prove it. And before her ears had been hit by the wall of *sound* when a familiar adjutant waved and signaled someone to open the station doors.
Banked up against roped cordons along the road into the city were people, emitting the sort of roar that happened when many separate voices spoke, cheered, and laughed. The kind that a person felt in the cavity of their chest in a din of bass and against their temples in a migraine of treble. Qatrand gil Yecine had not needed the doors open to know what must have happened.
