But as they rode out of Rifthold, that city that had been her home and her hell...

But as they rode out of Rifthold, that city that had been her home and her hell and her salvation, as she memorized each street and building and face and shop, each smell and the coolness of the river breeze, she didn't see one slave. Didn't hear one whip.
And as they passed by the domed Royal Theater, there was music - beautiful, exquisite music - playing within.