Billy

Skirts billowing in the wind, Billy passed through an archway and into a busy courtyard, bristling with traders. She pulled her cloak over hear head, as tears streamed from her eyes, a December wind biting at her cheeks. Beating a frustrated route through the crowds, she passed along a bridge that crossed a river and, panting, came upon the bazar. His Majesty was accompanied by the King’s courtiers, amassed rabble-like at the base of the river by the fountains. It was late, the setting sun placing much of the surrounding space in darkening shadow, and the first of the winter stars making themselves known; but there was much still left to happen this day.