Before the crowd began to migrate as the procession started to disappear into North Clock town, Lynette was already hopping down from the crates and quickly dashing through the much less crowded East Clock town. She shot a backwards glance at Marcus, who’s head was on it’s familiar swivel as he frantically tried to locate her. In spite of the fact that she loathed Marcus and his never ending advances, she felt a little bad leaving him out to dry like that. He’d have to forgive her for the heart attack later, though. Lynnette didn’t want to be bothered to wait up for him, but she supposed the least she could do was put on her cloak… just to be safe. 

	Throwing the fabric over her shoulders and fastening it just beneath her neck as she ran, she mulled over what she thought the Prince might say. She’d glossed over a few of her own theories as to why Ikana might have closed its gates, but she’d never much bothered to research the matter-- not until she first caught word about the Prince’s arrival, anyway… and even then, all she did was ask a few of her fellow troupe members-- some of whom had opinions that were almost as eccentric as they were themselves. She’d heard everything from “the Mayor's long lost son was caught rolling in the hay with an Ikana princess” to "Twinmold's twin had risen from the canyon's depths”. 

There were plenty of theories, each more outrageous than the next, but she had yet to form any solid opinions. She didn’t much care for the “why” anyway. What Lynnette was most curious about was whether or not she’d be able to meet her grandparents. They were nothing but a colorless pictograph of sophistication and refinement in her mind… well… that and, according to her mother, "fun-sucking aristocrats" that hated smiles, rainbows, and happiness, but Lynnette was far past taking everything her mother said at face value (especially about her grandparents). Her mother wouldn’t know class if bit her on the nose….

Lynnette managed to find a decent spot somewhat near the front of the crowd as the knights poured into North East Clock Town in front of the makeshift stage where Mayor Dotour, Captain Viscen, and Eustace Gorman each stood expectantly. Lynnette felt her face flush a little as the Prince removed his helmet—and it certainly didn’t let up as he began his speech. It would soon, however, prove to be no such time for girlish fantasies. Getting into the depth of his speech, Lynnette joined the crowd in it’s shock. She even found herself among the few shouting out questions. 

“What about the traders?!” she called out. They wouldn’t have been made to fight, would they? Had the merchants and businessmen and their families been kept safe? She felt a sinking feeling, like a heavy stone, settle in the pit of her stomach when she thought of what might have come of her Uncle Quin and Uncle Sloan. She stared after the Prince as he disappeared into Mayor Dotour’s office, lost in thought.