The last light had faded in the west, behind the barely visible shoreline of the Inland Sea.
Martisset walked down the path to the apartments of Martisset the Elder, her mother holding her left hand, and her father holding her right. The sky in the east was dark; somewhere up there was the faint obscurity of the Greater Moon, entirely in the shadow of Karis, but she could not make it out. The foliage stirred overhead in the night breeze, and the small lights marking the path woke to blue-white glow with the light they had stored from the sun.
The gate to the inner courtyard stood open, and they passed through it. Martisset’s father turned to close it behind him. The garden was fragrant with night-blooming flowers, and the scent of the ones that had just closed. Ahead, the lights of the gated house threw squares of warm light on the stone pathway.
Luckily, she no longer had the sword-knot and empty scabbard to worry about; the ceremonial knife hung in its scabbard, in the inner pocket of her full-length vest.
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