Today is already May 25th. This constitutional convention has been ongoing for three weeks, and with the arrival of the first summer rain, it is finally approaching its end.
The rain patters incessantly on the eaves of the Central Palace, and occasionally a few strands of rain slip through the crevices of the windows into the interior.
The brass chandelier sways with dim candlelight, white wax tears drip from the candlesticks onto the table, leaving scorching marks.
The representatives of the three seats sit solemnly, their gaze fixed on the main podium. Whether noble or commoner, their eyes are filled with excitement and gravity.
Standing amidst the fishy smell of rain, Horn grips the main podium, reading aloud the recently passed Article Five of the Holy Charter.
