Radeon had written the invitation with a deliberate time stamped into it, the highest noon.
The reason was simple. He wanted the Summit Emperors and the thirty nine remaining City Lords to see the terraces already breathing, already chewing through coin and bodies and intent.
A grand unveiling was easy to dismiss as theater. A working machine was harder to sneer at. It also looked inclusive.
No one could say Radeon Terraces had opened its doors only for the desperate and the greedy.
He even loosened the leash in a way that looked generous. Each Summit Emperor could invite twenty five people besides themselves.
Each City Lord could bring ten. Each township leader could bring five. Enough to swell the crowd with witnesses.
As the sun climbed and the heat began to prickle skin, the mortal town owners started making their way up the routes, breath heavy, hands clutching sleeves as if they could keep dignity from spilling out.
