Turrets rise above the city. Spires and towers loom, casting shadows on the bustling streets below. The city never sleeps, but merely undergoes a change of atmosphere. The marketplace swarms with men and women alike shouting out their wares. Shoppers simply give the owners of the stalls small, doughnut-shaped coins. The most expensive thing costs three gold.

 Thieves roam the walled kingdom. They pickpocket the rich and spend the money in opium dens. At night, drunks stagger through the cobblestone roads, collapsing in gutters while the king sleeps, unaware, in his swan feather bed.

 It is cold tonight, the winter wind bringing a frosty chill to the city. The princes are out late again, probably treating themselves to opium. One princess remains, soon to be married to a prince of a distant kingdom, to create allies for war circumstances. She will never see her family again.

 The palace is glowing in the moonlight. he princes have returned and the sun is beginning to rise. The massive castle shines with the early morning. From outside the gated walls, it appears as a soft blue mountain, spires cutting into the green farmland stretching out into the distance.

 In the palace, frying pans start to sizzle. The king's head chef makes breakfast for the royal family. In the streets a woman opens her cupboard and sighs. There will be no breakfast today.

 The day passes slowly. The family in the castle rests and is waited on. In the common city, a man works all day to feed his family of 8 for a day. A woman is arrested for saying she wishes there was a nicer king to rule; she will be hanged at the public viewing Saturday.

 Life goes on.

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