An account notebook.
A week had passed since Ziriel had started cultivating consistently for six to seven hours every day. She was quickly freed from her duties by Velryna, as at that moment, the ball was being prepared, and Velryna constantly went to her father trying to change his mind, but so far nothing had been decreed. At this moment, Ziriel was in a different place than usual.
The bar was lively, women danced joyfully while men drank their large mugs of golden liquor. Barley, perhaps? It was hard to tell without knowing anything about alcohol from the Empire. The bar was full and bustling, and the warm atmosphere of happiness made everything lighter. It was a pity that what was calling Ziriel to that place wasn't these little joys of life.
At the back of the bar, at a table, two hooded women were talking. One of them, of course, had white hair, and the other, green hair.