It turned out that dancing was harder in public, with strangers, than it was in private with a few people you knew well, but Lucas managed. That wasn’t because he did well, of course, but because by this point in the night, there were more than a few people who were getting close to sloppy drunk.

On another night, Lucas might have joined them, but this evening, he’d been much too busy making cash hand over fist to be anything more than a social drinker. At least here on the dance floor, he wasn’t being pestered by anyone else looking for a fix.

Who was going to notice Lucas’s missteps or his imprecise hand gestures when old Baronette Ruthrin had to leave the floor to vomit, or the Lady of Classton moved a bit too quickly, and her loosened corset didn’t quite follow, leading to an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction for the poor widow.

These things were apparently not uncommon at this stage of these parties, though, because everyone seemed to take them in stride. Even the Prince of Lordanin laughed as he moved by Lucas on the dance floor. The heir to the kingdom didn’t even look twice at Lucas as he glided past. He was much too busy checking out the eligible young ladies.

That’s my nemesis? Lucas thought after his brief chance to finally study the man. He seemed like a pompous, venal fuckboy, which he almost certainly was.

That put things into better perspective for Lucas. Clearly, the Prince wasn’t the threat that he’d thought he was. Which meant what? Did he have a canny captain of the guard? Maybe a particularly cutthroat adviser?

It certainly wasn’t the King himself. Everyone knew that the old man was just clinging to life and being made comfortable. In a land of magic and healing potions, Lucas imagined that the rich could be made to keep breathing for a good long time, but as far as he was concerned, that was no way to live.

Through all the strutting and stomping and clapping as the band played on, Lucas kept an eye out around the edges of the gathering looking for candidates that might be the real power behind the throne, but he saw none. Despite that, the only time he took a break from that activity was when he was paired with a particularly pretty woman.

Danaria certainly qualified in that department. There were a few other women that caught his eye, but every time her smiling face and her tight body circled around him he was instantly distracted enough to miss a step or too. Those moments were always followed by the inner reminder that she was definitely off limits, but there were a few other women he wouldn’t mind getting lost in the hedge mazes with for an hour or two.

Besides the pretty Miss Parin in pink, the woman that most caught his eye was a dark-haired beauty in a red dress. She was at least a decade older than Danaria, but that did nothing to rob her of her imperious beauty.

Lucas wasn’t the only one to think so, obviously, but given the amount of attention she was receiving from the other men, he was fairly sure there was more to her than her busty figure. She had to be rich, or powerful, or both. He wasn’t sure, but he would believe either. The one time he ran into her on the dance floor toward the end as partners swapped and twirled around each other, she simply looked right through him and smirked.

It was like she instantly knew he was a pretender, which made him even more interested because, so far, no one else had even hinted he might not belong. Not the guys he’d been dealing with, not the other women he’d been dancing with, and not even the Prince had given him a hint that they might know who he was.

It was enough to pique his interest in more than just her bust, but there was no way to approach her once the song finally finished. Not only was she hobnobbing amongst the Dukes and the Prince, but no sooner did the music end than a red-faced Danaria sought him out and clutched at his arm.

“Wasn’t that fun?” she asked, tearing him away from any attempt he might have made to get the mystery woman’s attention.

“Fun isn’t exactly what I would call it,” Lucas said with a shrug, “But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“As bad as you thought it would be!” she laughed. “Lucas, this is a grand time. We really must get you out more. Someday, when our manor is restored, we’ll be expected to host a party of our own, and you must be able to play the consummate host by then!”

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Lucas dreaded that idea, but then she was probably right. If they wanted to burnish the Parin name and continue to attract wealth and power, not to mention make connections and recruit underlings, that’s exactly what they’d have to do.

Maybe if I’m to host, I won’t have to dance, he thought optimistically. I can just stand at the gate, and great people then adjourn to a smoke-filled back room to do the real work while people like her and Adin make friends.

She led him to one of the refreshment tables, where each of them had another glass of champagne, and then began to quiz him, pointing out different members of the crowd and asking who they were and why they were important.

Lucas probably only got two in ten right, but it did an excellent job of underlining her point. If he was expected to move among these people and spread his very profitable poison, he would have to work harder on getting to know them.

That’s how they spent the remainder of the evening. They stood there for another half an hour as Lucas watched people slowly slip away from the party while those that remained got drunker and drunker. During all that time he learned that the pretty woman in red was the Lady Skylara, and though Danaria wasn’t quite sure why she was important, she was fairly sure that she was related to the royal family in some way.

“Not in the line of succession, though,” she corrected hastily. “Ssshe’sss like an aunt or a cousssin or sssomething. I hardly ever hear any drama about her.”

Danaria was getting drunk, too, and after one too many slurs, he decided it was time to get her back to her house before she turned into a pumpkin. So, the two of them said their goodbyes, and thanked the hosts, and eventually returned to their carriage.

Lucas was pleased to see the carriage was still there when he arrived, and even more pleased to see that their driver was still breathing and hadn’t run off with his cash. Paying the man a golden dragon was more than worth it given that he’d been guarding so many others.

“What’s your name,” Lucas asked him after he finished poring Danaira into the carriage.

“Mort, sir,” the man said.

He wasn’t much. He was a little younger than Lucas, maybe, but there was nothing special about him. Physically, at least, he did seem to have a rare combination of loyalty and balls, though, and Lucas could use a few more like him.

“Well, Mort, how’d you like to do some more work for me on a regular basis, I mean?” Lucas asked.

“Aren’t I already doing that?” Mort asked as he handed Lucas back his dagger.

“Yeah, I guess you are, aren’t you,” Lucas agreed. “but I mean like deliveries too. You stepped up tonight, and I appreciate that.”

“Of course, whatever you need…” the man nodded. His words trailed off as he looked at the dagger that Lucas was putting back on his belt. “Well, maybe almost anything…”

“Relax, Mort,” Lucas smiled. “I don’t want you killing people. I mean, you need to know how to fight, but there's a big difference between a cold-blooded killer and a capable driver.”

The man nodded at that, and then Lucas got into the carriage, and sat there with Danaria on the way home. She spent the first half of the ride alternating between gently haranguing him for leaving her all alone and telling him how much fun she had.

She only asked about why one of the cushions was so lumpy once, but Lucas played it off, and the view of the city at night distracted her instead.

“It’s so pretty at night, don’t you think?” She said, leaning just a little closer than necessary as she reached past him to point at the nighttime lights of Lordanin as they road not so far from the walls back toward the east.

Lucas turned and looked. He agreed with her, but really, the view was lost on him. After you’d seen a modern city lit up by electricity, the dim glow stones and lanterns of a place like this barely rated to him.

When he turned back around, she was right there, and he could have definitely kissed her if he wanted, but he pretended not to notice and let the moment pass as he leaned back in his seat. Kissing a business partner’s sister was a terrible idea, but doing it when she was drunk was orders of magnitude worse.

She seemed not to notice and settled for laying her head on his shoulder after another moment or two. She was out like a light after that, and when they finally arrived home, a little before two, Lucas carried her upstairs and handed her off to her maidservants, who looked like they’d just woken up to take care of their mistress’s homecoming.

After that, he took his pillow full of gold and walked back to the cider house to get some shut-eye before he told everyone how great things had gone.

On his walk, he noticed just how shabby the Parin Estate looked compared to the place he’d just been. Even the main house was barely as nice as the VanDavin’s servant’s quarters. The fence, too, was neither decorative nor defensive. If they were going to get serious, they had a lot to get serious about, and Lucas decided that he’d talk to Adin and Kar’gandin in the morning.

He went to bed fully dressed and lay there thinking about the piles of gold they were going to make. He couldn’t believe how wrong they’d been going about all of this. They’d been fishing for pennies in the gutter when they should have been shooting for the stars.