Mirella took a deep breath and smoothed down her skirt. Carefully, she made her way back to the arched doors leading back into the Gallery hall, pausing to hear snippets of conversation along the way.

            “Can you believe that savage was sent to announce the birth of an Earth Child?” The masculine voice tried to cover his surprise. “ And in the presence of Elymas, no less. The Gibbor has been too long in the hills. Elymas has been the Earth Skyll for well over three hundred years.”

            “There is the prophecy,” said his companion, pausing to take a drink, “Though I forget the exact words.”

            “It’s a street rhyme, Capeheart,” A third voice entered the conversation. “The words change daily. And please don’t repeat that old wives’ tale or you’ll be laughed to scorn.”

            Then, they both proceeded to do so.

            Mirella passed by a group of aristocratic young ladies who broke off their conversation she passed. With a roll of her eyes, a raven-haired beauty said, “No wonder the skinny chit remembered him. Did you notice his codpiece?”

            “A rather large leather,” remarked a shorter blonde. 

            “It wasn’t leather,” quipped a third. 

            Their laughter was explosive.