It was a special day, for me and my whole family. Dare I say it was a special day for everyone who was anyone in the Duchy of Efeles? Perhaps even beyond.

It was Count Verbon Yse's 23rd birthday.

Yes, he was count now. his father had passed away in a most tragic hunting accident 2 years ago. It was oddly just two months after Count Bairv, his bitter rival and the father of Nistan, my kidnapper, had passed away, ending one cycle of feuds between the neighbouring countiess, and ushering in a cycle anew.

Verbon Yse's 23rd birthday, of course, has nothing to do with why it was an important day.

Grandfather's 50th anniversary as the Duke got Efeles, incidentally, also happened to fall on this day, the third Monday of the 9th month.

I'm half convinced my grandfather decided to wed my half-aunt off to this Count Verbon Yse just so that he could throw himself his own party today. It couldn't possibly be a coincidence.

I sighed as we got out of the elegant carriage, which father had ordered specifically for today. Even our family crest was painted on it in gaudy reds and purples. As the first son of the duke, his family couldn't just show up in its usual vulgar country style.

I would really rather just stay at the manor and read.

There was so much I still wanted to look into, and this was going to be a day of pomp, new enemies and almost certain humiliation, if grandfather could have his say.

The palace I saw from the glass windows of the carriage was not the one I had lived in as a baby, but the palace of the Elafoz.

It was magnificent by the standards of buildings that I have seen in this life, which is to say it was slightly more opulent than grandfather's palace. I hadn't seen many manors except of lord across the years.

In the courtyard alone, there was a fountain of 8 fish spewing water from their mouths over a ring of burnished metal sickle moons. Behind it, was a colonnade of trees, a symbol, perhaps of the Elafoz's honour of protecting the grove north of the city. Although most of the view of the mansion behind it was blocked, I could see a copper or bronze dome rising on top of the trees. The money spent just to plate that would have been enough to feed a fief for a month, or maybe put a portcullis on one of the Leslie duchy's southern border castles.

And all around the cobblestones and trees was immaculate, short-cut grass.

There were people spread out on the lawns and under the trees. The men were dressed in one or two bright colours, checkered or alternating between coat and waist jacket. The women lifted voluminous dresses just like mother's as she accepted father's hand to help her down from the carriage in front of me.

However, I quickly noticed the whispers as I came out from behind my parents. Some pointed fingers and murmured words behind elegant fans at the women dressed similarly to mother.

The women who gossiped were dressed simpler, without a ruff, nor the same width of dress. They looked slimmer and more elegant to me, perhaps appealing to my memories of Sam's military balls in Lucia.

The two groups seemed to part into clean divisions, factions within factions perhaps. I was fortunately spared from these politics so far.

"Brother, sister. Thank you for being here. It is nice to see faces of real family in this big crowd father put together."

Lady Marian who came to greet us was dressed in the simple style.

"And my two nephews. You both look very smart in those long coats."

I blushed as she leaned down to let me kiss her cheek.

I had met Aunt Marian once before, just shortly after she was wed to Count Yse. I swear she was not even Ivian's age and Ivian was only 25 this year. Her high cheek bones and her kind smile somehow reminded me of lieutenant Izabeth. Though my good impressions were somewhat shattered by the heavy perfume she wore.

Lady Marian then placed her baby blue gloved hand on mother's arm.

"Cianna, I should have told you about the Elafoz's wife. I'm afraid she is quite keen on this new style of dress from her home in Keiran. But no matter, you are far from alone in your look and among family."

Mother looked flustered, but it was just a dress.

I noticed father walk off towards a group of other men and hesitated whether I should follow him or Aunt Marian who was leading mother and Brendal somewhere as well.

A third option soon presented itself not far away. I saw Pricel with his younger sister, Delthimay. The older boy waved and my decision was made.

"Good evening Lord Pricel, Miss Delthimay," I greeted them with a prim bow and a familial smile, careful to use the right honourifics.

Both of them bowed too, but only the bare minimum for decorum as there were no other adults around.

“You lost a tooth!” Dilthimay shouted. My smile had revealed my not so handsome feature left by the apple this morning. “Look, I lost one too.”

Dilthimay, quite unladylike, opened her mouth to show me her own tooth-gap.

I laughed as Pricel put a hand over her face in exasperation.

"Little cousin, I was just telling my sister about the envoy. Have you heard?"

Although he was trying to cover up the little incident, it seemed like Pricel was genuinely excited about this envoy too.

I chided myself for even bothering to keep formality. I should have addressed Pricel as cousin, as well, not lord. It was both proper for this family gathering and less stiff for our age.

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I felt I could kind of relate to Pricel. He was very different from the boy he was at my age. He was tall now, and his face would have been handsome if not for the speckling of freckles and pimples on his nose and cheeks. But that would pass in time.

We also went through a lot together, once upon a time.

"What envoy? You mean here?"

There shouldn't really be an envoy at the duke's party, much less the cond's. Despite the fact that each of the dukes was arguably as powerful as the king, or perhaps because of it, there were certain sensitivities when a foreign kingdom sent an envoy. If not careful, either the duchy's or the envoy's kingdom could have a diplomatic crisis on their hands.

"The envoy from Klisstoss. He is just as they describe them."

"From Klisstoss? Here? Really?" Klisstoss was close with the Duke of Hartun and the King, there is no way they would send an envoy to a celebration being held at the Elafoz's palace for the duke of Efeles.

At least, it seemed very unlikely to me. But I had no reason to think Pricel was lying, he would know that too.

I was curious. I had read much of the Klisimians but never seen them before.

"He was all warty and had teeth like knives," Delthimay whispered, speaking for the first time.

As well as not being nobles by virtue of their lineage, girls were also very rarely seen outside until their debuts. The same could be said of boys, if they were from the upper nobility, but there was less fuss about a boy's appearance.

Delthimay was likely only here today since this was, at least in name, a household celebration of a birthday.

By all rights I should have found all this very new. And, to a certain extent I did, still wondering at the uncomfortable clothes of everyone around us. But Sam had been to parties and cocktails before, with much more fun and happy people at that. I just wanted to avoid the land mines tonight though I was somewhat intrigued by this Klisimian.

"Come, let me show you," Pricel said and waved at us to follow.

Just as he turned around, he bumped into another boy.

"Look, if it isn't Pricel Phrans," the boy he ran into said smilingly, putting his hand on Pricel's shoulder.

I didn't recognise him. He was taller than Pricel, though perhaps the same age.

It was clear at a glance, however, that Pricel was not glad to see him. Something about his smile also gave me an impression of petty hostility.

"Geran," Pricel bit his lips after he greeted him.

But Pricel's greeting evidently wasn't satisfactory to the other boy, as his smile turned to a scowl, "Lord Clous to you, merchant."

I knew of the name Clous. He must be the son of Viscount Clous. Perhaps I shouldn't be too surprised. Clous had been one of those nobles who had been first to turn tail and drop father when they heard grandfather was mad at him 15 years ago.

Then the Geran's face transformed into the picture of brotherly concern.

"Oh goodness, is that a stain on your little sister's dress," his attentions turned to Delthimay, who had been looking anxiously at her brother's treatment. I stepped in front of him, brow pulled into a frown. It was one thing to accost Pricel, quite another to paw at his sister in the middle of a gathering of peers.

"And who is this, yet another Phrans?"

"You'll have to excuse us, Lord Clous," I said cordially, emphasizing his title. I didn't deign to give him my name. "we were just going to see-

"You are speaking to Lord Tilvrade Efeles," Pricel interrupted me somewhat vehemently, emphasizing my grandfather's family name with a certain satisfaction.

"How cute, a Phrans family get together. Even the loser's son is here!"

I felt my chest clench, both from a sudden flare of anger at Pricel and chill from Geran's insult.

I almost reached out and slapped him right there, but Geran Clous turned towards Pricel and I took a step back to reevaluate what was going on.

"Don't talk to me like that again, are we clear?"

Pricel was on the tips of his toes as Geran tugged on his collar. There was a small clatter as the broach of a three petalled teal flower snapped off Pricel's coat and to the ground.

I looked around, somewhat shocked that this mere viscount's son could get away with such an attitude. Calling Pricel's nobility into question was one thing, but calling my father, son of the duke holding this party was a loser was a breach of any normal propriety.

If I could just catch someone's eye, they would notice Geran was physically abusing an viscount's son and stop this nonsense.

I looked around the courtyard where men and women were making their way from group to group to greet each other with ceremonious bows and hidden smiles.

Only a handful of them even glanced towards us, and never long enough for me to catch their attention.

Something was very wrong.

I couldn't see familiar faces anywhere. Why had Pricel and his sister been here?

I bent down to pick up the broach, but before I could give it back to Pricel his sister, Delthimay was speaking tremulously to the bully.

"Put my brother down."

"Eh? What was that?" Clous said, leering at the 11 year old girl. "You want to take your brother's place in my arms?"

It was like that night so many years ago.

Nistan strapped a gag over Pricel's tongue in the forest and all Pricel could do was whine piteously.

He had shouted, hoping that a maid or a baby would do something to help him.

Now it was his sister instead, put right under Geran's attentions because of his weakness.

"Do it Geran!"

The only ones who did seem to pay attention to us were three other boys, two of them dressed in colourful short coats split into tails behind them and one who looked a bit older, in black. One of them had shouted to goad Clous while another smirked at me as he saw me looking around the crowd.

It was as if these children were playing out the dramas between their elitist parents on their behalf.

That's what it was, I suddenly realised. From each of those boys, Geran included, there was an invisible string that seemed to stretch into the faceless ring of nobles who watched from around us without looking.

It wasn't Geran caressing Delthimay's turned chin that I was facing. There was a deeper game, my real opponent only showing his pawns.

I suddenly felt very glad Geran turned away before I lashed out at him a moment ago. He was not attacking me directly, but might if I gave him the opening... Sure, these nobles around us were on his side, but there were too many for them to be a solid clique and support him without an excuse.

"Don't you dare touch my sister. Geran, don't."

Pricel struggled pitifully, not realising his fear and indignation just encouraged Geran.

I changed my mind about Pricel. I couldn't relate to him at all.

We had gone through the same helpless trauma so many years ago. How could he be so vulnerable even now?

Every other day, it seemed, I still remembered my powerlessness, only saved by sheer luck as one of our kidnappers transformed into a monster.

But Pricel just cowered and feared, hoping others would face his demons for him.

If I was right, and this was a play acted vicariously by older nobles through their children, then Geran would respect certain boundaries. There would be no bloodshed, nothing that couldn't be denied later to grandfather and Viscount Phrans.

I looked around the nearby faces again. One woman in a puffy dress flinched as my eyes travelled past her. They definitely weren't all comfortable with Geran's aggression.

If only I could push him a bit further, beyond the line. But I'm sure Geran knew the rules.

My thumbs and knuckles rubbed against each other in front of my chest, a nervous twitch of Sam's.

There was only so much I could do.

I took Delthimay's hand and looked up at Pricel.

"Cousin, it seems you and Lord Clous have much to talk about, I am afraid Delthimay and I will excuse ourselves as we have not yet greeted the Cond."

A flash of panic went through Pricel's eyes, to my further disappointment. Shouldn't he be relieved that I was saving his sister from any more of this?

"Lord Clous," I bowed to the boy still holding him by the collar.

Geran squinted at me, then licked his upper lip slowly as his eyes shifted to the side.

He didn't do anything, so I turned away, dragging Pricel's sobbing sister behind me.

I kept walking, trying not to go too fast.

My heard rate sped up, and I just hoped he wouldn't dash all my assumptions.

Then the three boys appeared in front of me. I had seen them just a moment ago. What were they going to do?