Trumpets blare and crowds cheer. There is a lot of excitement in the air, electric in a way that cannot compare to the horse races. Compared to watching horses run, the people long for spectacle, pomp, and conflict. Even the formerly despondent Augustus has a dash of boyish anticipation for what is to come.
3 days of revelry and drunken antics while watching rising and setting Houses fight for a semblance of glory.
This is one of the unique occasions, outside of religious holidays, where the imperial family and the commonfolk can attend the same event. There hasn't been an official joust hosted by the Crown since before the Sarsavalian War and while I was in the palace by during that time, I was far too deep in the early trenches of transmigration to pay any attention to an event amounts to the equivalent of UFC on horseback.
"Are you nervous?" Augustus suddenly asks as we draw closer.
