The morning sun burned across the private beach, softened by the transparent wall around it. The rainbow specks were very bright and beautiful, falling on the enclosed summit grounds. Guards lined the perimeter of the entrance, tails stiff, weapons at attention.
Sienna stood under an umbrella with Queen Serenya, both dressed in ceremonial robes that looked far too heavy for the seaside heat. Flanking them, and behind them were attendants who were protecting them and ensuring their comfort. Aunt Linera was among them, weapons strapped to her waist. She had painted a fierce scar on one side of her face, to look like some kind of mercenary for hire.
"Day one," Sienna muttered, fanning herself. "This feels like standing at an airport in the arrivals section." She recalled a moment when she was in high school, and her school hosted a foreign diplomat. They had stood outside for two hours, under the heat, holding flowers and doing too much bowing.
