Sage is quiet by my side as I and a procession of attendants walk towards the venue Augustus' coming of age ceremony will be held.
"Still mad?" I ask, my hands clasped behind my back as I march ahead.
"Sage is very mad!" she whined, dipping into the third person like the lovable idiot she tries to be.
"You ought to know better than to come in without knocking, Sage," I say, not giving in as quickly as I usually do.
"I'm very sorry, your highness! I will never do it again,"
"I know you won't." "What do you think of my dress?"
"It's very pretty, your highness! You look like a fairy!
"Oh?" This simple word works like a magic charm. Every time I utter it, people tend to chatter even more.
"That fabric is very fashionable these days. I heard that only the well-connected madams at the Ladies' Court wear it," Sage gushes with a not-so-innocent name drop.
