"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, Your Highness," you declaim, and bow deeply. "Words cannot express the depth of our honor at your presence. Please allow me to humbly welcome you to the Odeon, where I trust that you will be astounded by our tale."
"Well, we hope so," Liathar says mildly, looking a bit like he suspects you're selling something.
"Really, we're just here to see the play," Falathar says.
Cenone frowns at Falathar, as if disapproving of modesty, and acknowledges your greeting with a dignified nod.
"If you'll please come with me, I'll show you to your seats," you say.
You lead them through the theater, creating a stir in the crowd. Well-dressed ladies and gentlemen attempt to be seen to good advantage. A few who nod at one of the heirs more casually might be actual friends. Less well-dressed ladies and gentlemen murmur and point. There are a few whistles and a ripple of applause from the cheap seats. You're not certain if that represents confidence in the city's rulers, or merely the feeling that getting to see them is part of the show.
Cenone takes his seat with dignity, and Liathar and Falathar seat themselves on either side.