"Do you plan on sinning this night, Your Grace?" Arkaelus grinned. "I would hope so, the funds the state puts into this festival could fund a small army for a year. Fountains of wine a tons upon tons of food line the city streets. Meisters using spells to amplify the sound level of the music played. And at the end of the festival, at the stroke of midnight, thousands of fireworks are launched over the harbor. I'd imagine I could find something to do." He told her.
"I wouldn't mind a little sin myself." She said and smiled. He blushed remembering what he did in the last festival. "As long as you don't do what I did last year. I woke up with only a blanket on and covered in vodka and powder and atop of the roof of a cathedral. Nearly froze to death." Arkaelus said, chuckling as he remembered how he got in that situation. "The last thing I remember before that was me. Dorian, and a veteran strelet who served under my brother were enjoying ourselves at the old town square. Then they urged me to try something the natives of the colonies called Brown-brown. Then the rest is a blur." He paused and then smiled.