The hall was a place of chaos, some milling about grandfather, Count Yse or even Viscount Dastan and Uncle Stegan and others heading to the dance floor or the tables to sit and chat or listen to the minstrels play. All the while footmen, holding trays of beverages or sometimes empty glasses, weaved through them quickly, unnoticed.

There were so many people in this hall, all ladies and lords, the elite of just one of the duchy of Farand. Of course, the maids and footmen added to the crowd, and there were possibly some other friends of Count Yse or Duke Feles from the capital, like the Elafoz who hosted the event, but it was still an impressive gauge of the power of a duke.

When we had just filed into the room, mother and the other ladies she was with all joined the small court surrounding Count Yse and his wife. The women with us were mainly ladies of the fiefs near our own in Lord Yse's Valeford county, so the congratulations and greetings with Count Yse and Lady Marian were friendly and smooth.

Mother then excused herself to take Brendal along to the back of the room, following a maid who guided her at her call. Many of the other children from the courtyard were also being led there, ushered into a separate room. It seemed that the Elafoz's servants were well prepared for all the children that would be here today, giving them another army of maids and footmen in simple apparel to serve them treats and break up fights between them.

Thankfully, I was spared all that. Many my age from simple fiefs were already working as pages. Some of them could even be seen in this very room, running messages or standing seriously beside their masters, so I was in that odd age group that was no longer considered a toddler and not yet a man.

That meant, I could essentially do as I wanted.

With mother's blessing, I left her as she went to find father at the tables. Instead, I found the ensconced staircase that took me up to the balcony. It was hard to escape the crowd of people anywhere, even on the balcony, but at least here it was less likely to be approached by unwanted attention.

I sat on the cold floor, leaning my back against one of the pillars between the railing overlooking the hall.

I still felt quite shaken.

I had smiled and bowed to all of mother's acquaintances, trying to pretend nothing at all had happened with Pricel and Clous before. The truth, however, was that the past hour, I had been imagining puppet strings and hidden meanings behind everyone's smiles and greetings.

Only now could I finally take a deep breath. It was calming here, seemingly floating over a cloud of noise from clinking glasses and the babbling of hundreds, light peeking over the balcony floor.

I was afraid of what this morning meant for father as well as for the fief. For decades, the remote village of Olwick in Farand's North-East was only under the steward there. Grandfather tacitly allowed father to flee to those lands when he left the capital with mother.

I never really paid it much mind. After all, father was loved by the villagers and we didn't bother other nobles, but that was only until today, when Sam planted a whisper in my mind. I couldn't depend on father for everything, I couldn't even trust him with everything that happened to me.

It reminded me of when I was younger, unable to share with him the troubles of my nightmares. Just now, I was unable to share the troubles of bullying.

It all seemed to get worse after Sir Barker died. There was still something I felt was very strange about what happened, how he and Viscount Phrans were both killed by bandits last summer when they had set out on the first leg of the journey with the trading company Viscount Phrans funded to go to Klistoss.

That lord of Ibbergreen had not returned to Olwick since father sorted out the problem with the peddler, but father had been forced to go there when we found out he and the new dues' collector had been stealing from Olwick's tribute.

Our hold was precarious in Olwick, particularly as Brendal and I grew older. Father was too high profile and it seemed one of grandfather's successors was already working hard to remove him from the fief.

It was this precisely this type of intrigue that I wanted to avoid or ignore.

I brought out my thirty-second, the reason I had come here to the balcony. Thirty-second just referred to the number of times the vellum was folded or cut, creating the tiny little book in my hands.

This particular volume was a kind of religious text. It had chants of the Church of the Sun, the main order in Farand. The monks were religious people, they lived outside of normal society, secluded to contemplate and purify themselves. Most of us in Gristol had little to do with religion or the monasteries, which suited the monasteries just fine, as they were almost little kingdoms themselves.

I had some interest in the Church ever since reading of the monk and the demon in the collection of fairy tales long ago.

There was a similar organisation in Lucia, from what Sam remembered, the acolytes of the land and the sky. They were once one of the most powerful organisation in Nura, the continent where Lucia was. But after the Treaty of Azar, the veils of mystery were removed from magic, showing that there was reason and method to the wonders we knew. Even the acolytes lost much of their fervour in preaching about morals and evils, calamities of the past and future.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Society was even a step further, espousing ideals of reason and experimentation instead of the superstitions of the past. Then, in Sam's lifetime, Dr. Istle's discovered the postulated mana sources in Zalaam. That was the final nail in the coffin for superstition in Lucia.

The Church of the Sun was similarly filled with superstitious nonsense. They spoke of the sun and the black sun, an eternal struggle between good and evil. The monk had intrigued me, a part of Farand that I knew nothing else about, but the reason I was only reading this thirty-second now was because I had never made the time before.

A cult that considered all magic evil and was warning kings to watch out for demons and ban all mages from practising rituals and spells seemed dangerous, an enemy perhaps, but not something I could learn much from.

Unfortunately, most books here were big and heavy things I placed on my davenport back home. This was my only thirty-second, small enough that mother allowed me to bring here.

However, as I opened the book and started reading their chants and psalms, I quickly lost track of the party and guests around me.

They were curious, almost hinting at meanings I felt were important. It wasn't that there was something particularly unique about the chant I started with. It had just been another plea to be pious, talking about how the taint was in each one of us. According to it, man had once lived in the light of the golden sun, until hubris and greed had opened our world to the black sun and his demons. Each of us now lives in a balance between the darkness and the light and we must not stray into temptation else the stigma and the demons will take over us.

I was suddenly startled, by the head of a reptile hovering by the column behind me.

"You ssit here and rea-id, insstead of joining the celebray-tionss," he said to me, glancing at the book over my shoulder. But then he recoiled and turned away with some disappointment after seeing the text I was reading, "oh, a devou-te, I shall not dissturb."

He had a round torso, making him look almost flabby, something he evidently was not, considering the strong muscles in his inhumanly short but large arms and legs. His powerful looking thighs jutted forward, making him seem to be squatting even before he lifted his leg to turn around.

"No, sir," I hurriedly said, getting up, "I am no worshipper. It is just that this prayer book was the only one small enough from my shelf that I could bring here easily with its small size."

I looked at him in awe. Hoping he would still talk to me.

This was the envoy from Klistoss that Pricel had spoken about. A Klisimian, one of the lizardmen that I had heard much about. He was very different from what I expected. Not only his body, but his eyes were black and small, almost faded into his dark brown scales and instead of a eusuchian snout, his was round and small, almost serpentine.

"You undersstand I don't approuve," he spoke slowly and kept on hissing every 's'. He also emphasized the last vowel in every phrase, pausing at the end of his sentences.

"No, sir. I'm afraid I don't know much about the church of the sun, nor the Klisimians either."

"Well. You are you-ng," He said, "Lissen. My ancesstoresz were from the ssouth, much like you Farandiansz. We yussdu have many great tribesz and templesz to the sspirits of our peoplesz in the warmer landsz."

It was a story I had come across before in one of the chronicles. The Klisimians were like lizards or snakes, cold-blooded. They were powerful and smart, but hampered by extreme temperatures, both cold and hot. If it weren't for Keiran's expansion right after the kingdom was established, the Klisimians would never have left the bogs and marshes they called home.

"The klisimiansz and the humansz were not enemiesz, and even today, we try and are grateful for the protection of your kin-ng. But they," he pointed at the book I was reading, "they claimed we were demonsz, a corruption of your humankind. They burned my ancesstoresz on stakesz, the same tribesz that had lived and traded with them until that tai-m."

"I didn't know..." I responded lamely.

I fidgeted as I realised just what reading that book must have meant to this man of a different race in front of me. Not only a Klisimian, but an ambassador of a country and peoples, but he graciously took the time to explain the divide between humans and klisimians instead of just spurning me and feeling offended that I would be reading the scriptures of those who were prejudiced against them.

I saluted, trying to show respect, but quickly put my hand down, realising that that was a stray habit from Sam's military training.

"I am Tilvrade Feles, a subject of Farand. Keiran is my enemy too. I will not tolerate violence either to our kingdom or yours and thank you for your warning about the Church of the Sun."

"Hsss"

I froze as I saw a forked tongue flicker out through his lips for a split second.

Was I too over the top? I wondered.

"Hsszsszss."

"He's just laughing, boy, no need to be so scared," a gruff voice of a man spoke out behind me. "Lord envoy, sorry for having you here on parade just to keep you waiting afterwards."

"No worriesz, prinsz." The Klisimian responded, "I even made a new frien-nd." He gestured towards me.

I felt my whole body stiffen and back straighten as the Elafoz put his hand on my shoulder. "Look at that, his excellency seems to like you."

The prince was not only a powerful man but also the centre of dissent with the king. With that power and reputation came attention, and with that attention came plots, politics and misunderstandings.

"Now, run along boy," the Elafoz told me, "there are things I need to discuss in private with my guest."

It was a bit late now, but I was still in front of royalty. If I didn't show proper ceremony, my mother would scold me terribly. I got down on one knee, "Tilvrade Feles greets Your Royal Highness."

"Hm? Feles?"

The Elafoz looked at me more closely.

Maybe I should have just hoped for his forgiveness on accounts of feigned ignorance.

"You are related to Bickley?" He spoke of my grandfather by his given name.

"My grandfather, Your Highness."

"Ah, you're that one, I see." It seems he had some impression of me. "Very well, you may leave us now."

I rose and bowed, but did not open my mouth again, fearing I would stumble once more.

I kept my eyes forward, not daring to look back or at the gazes that fell on me.

I hoped that this chance meeting would either be a boon or forgotten in the thick of the celebrations at this event. But it was a coin flipped that had not yet come down, and I feared I would lose that flip, and experience father's ire.