The chateau they now approached was beyond grand, as they crossed what was almost a park's worth of carefully manicured flower beds and cherry trees, pink blossoms caressing their forms as they crossed the lush green grasses for the truly palatial mansion before them, both of them eschewing the more circuitous route and what Jack now recognized was the gate proper, with a number of carriages and palanquins parked in a drive just a short distance away.

Drake dismissed the alarmed looks he received from servants and guards alike with a wave of his hand as they stepped through a servants entrance into the grand manor, Jack awed by the sheer size and scope of the plush carpeted hallway he soon found himself in, the walls painted a brilliant yellow and covered in portraits of majestic men and women dressed in what seemed the heights of fashion over the span of half a millenia, or a single night out, a bemused Jack halfway thought, impressed despite himself by the craftsmanship, care, and attention to detail that seemed to be the hallmark of this house, even this seemingly discrete corridor that opened into a truly grand ballroom with what seemed no less than a hundred lords and ladies in attendance wearing all manner of finery and regalia, the soft notes of woodwind instruments including lute and recorder, could be heard blending with the sonorous sounds of violins and similar string instruments, Jack catching sight of a few musicians with eyes averted playing in several discretely placed alcoves around the grand ballroom before his friend linked arms and all but dragged Jack across the black and white checkered tiles of what he took to be the dance floor.

Of course Drake's passage was anything but unremarked upon, yet whenever a lord or lady offered friendly greetings, clearly eager to strike a conversation, Drake would cut them off with an observation or quip that would earn a grin or rueful chuckle, with sweeping smiles and bows for the ladies, and brotherly pats on the arm and promises of chatting later for the lords such that he must have dodged half a dozen conversations in their walk across the ballroom and, from what a bemused Jack saw, managed to do so without offending a single guest.

He couldn't help but reflect upon how useful the skill of charming one's peers would be in any situation, from pacts of convenience to forging alliances that might blossom into genuine friendships, or romantic dalliances that might lead to unions between powerful Houses, and everything in between. Of course, his Mercantile, Negotiation, and Romantic Empathy skills certainly covered the basics, and perhaps his Deception and Intimidation skills had their place as well. Yet Jack was equally sure that there was an art to Jake's style that went far beyond any skill rank.

And for all that so much had come to Jack so quickly, even a ruthless savvy when necessary, the art of immediately putting others at ease and encouraging them to warm up to him, or forgive what he sensed might, in other cases, might be viewed as serious breeches of etiquette, was not something that he thought would ever come easily to him.

Whereas Jack suspected his friend's Charisma might be the springboard from which a true ruler might be forged, he thought for himself it served as a far more blunt instrument, encouraging others to care just a bit more for him than they otherwise might have.

It was one thing to enjoy haggling and sense a good deal, allowing him to make full use of his Mercantile and Negotiation skills, but that had nothing to do with enticing the warmth and adoration of a score of lords with a few well placed smiles and words. And Romantic Empathy was a godsend, but Jack already sensed that for him, all it meant was not utterly messing up a connection or playing the fool with a girl who actually cared for him. He might have a better idea of how to make his Stormy smile, and sense when he was really pissing her off, then he did before. And that was the extent of it, he thought. The same as any man learning to pay attention to his partner.

It certainly wouldn't allow him to charm or seduce girls who would normally have no interest in him at all. He smirked. Even his trade skill had come with a weird sense of intuiting perceived value, like a google value search function was now somewhere in his brain. But the other social skills he thought of mostly as placeholders for his own natural talents, or lack thereof. Still, he'd be beyond pleased if he actually managed to manifest any perks for that set of skills, though he'd be surprised as anything to see them blossom at the rate his arcane talents had.

Of course he took some solace at the quick glance he caught of himself within one of the full-length silvered mirrors strategically placed around the magnificently vaulted chamber, along with a number of exits, several giving glimpses of lush flowerbeds and what looked to be an actual rose bush hedge maze in the garden beyond. All of which gave added sense of scope and vastness to the ball, as well as showcasing the wonders beyond. Jack smirked self-consciously at his own reflection. At least he now had a healthy physique and a not terrible smile. But he still thought of himself more as the shy hero in the background of any tale. Of course he would step up when the chips were down, but hie doubted he would ever win people over with the grace and panache of his friend.

Of course, that was when Drake looked his way and gave an exasperated chuckle. "Come on, Jack. You can admire yourself in the mirror later. Father wants to see you, and my Uncle will be stopping by soon. So let's get going!"

Jack flushed, because of course his frowning at an unexpected pimple that he hoped wouldn't burden him for all eternity was the moment his friend chose to look back and smirk in his direction.

"Alright, I'm coming. And that wasn't what you think."

Drake smirked. "Of course it wasn't. Now come on, I've greeted the people who mattered..."

"Blazed right past them, more like, with a dozen Charisma checks," Jack smirked.

His friend laughed. "True. But either way, they're firmly in Father's court, for reasons that go far beyond my saying hello."

And that was when the crowded space seemed to open around them, and Jack was caught by surprise by a handful of smiling and very familiar faces.

"Drake! You actually came!" Jack's eyes lightened at the familiar voice, catching sight of none other than a laughing Sophia, crimson locks falling in a cascade of curls down her left shoulder, complimented wonderfully by the deep green gown she wore that truly set off the sparkle in her sapphire eyes. Her sleek waist was highlighted by the brilliant belt of silver she wore, from which Jack noted the discrete bulge of a wand case within.

She flashed a teasing grin. "For a moment, we all thought you were going to miss this mystery party we can only assume is being held in your honor, Drake." Her eyes widened with surprise when she got a good look at who her grinning friend was standing beside. "My, you do get around, don't you Jack? And you do clean up quite nicely. I hardly recognized you!" Sophia declared as none other than a white-gloved Felix decked in full Victorian ensemble made an appearance, with a plump Gillien by his side. The latter eschewing all excess fashion, kitted only in soft leather boots and a comfortable looking wizards robe of a fine stitch Jack was capable of on his best day, presently holding a silver plate full of miniature mea tpies and pastries.

"It's about time you made an appearance, Your Grace!" said Felix, Gillien also bowing his head with a "Your Grace," between heaping bites of food, Sophia mock smacking them both with her now unsheathed wand.

"You know he doesn't like it when you call him that! We're school chums. First names are fine, isn't that right, Drake?"

Drake grinned. "It is indeed, Sophia. Because I sure as hell am not going to start calling you viscountess any time soon."

Then Felix did a double take and a wide-eyed Gillien started coughing, when they caught sight of Jack by Drake's side.

"He's here! Sister, look! Jack's here!"

"I know that brother," said Sophia in the tone big sisters used everywhere, and Jack winced in sympathy for the boy's plight. "And you're hardly suited to greet your hero in your present attire, thinking you can get out of wearing your too-tight doublet and jacket, when Father and I told you that you needed to start attending fencing classes and morning calisthenics, by slipping into your Academy robes!"

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"But school uniforms are fine. Drake always insists!" the boy said in his own defense, though he was blushing, and bowing low to Jack. "Thank you again for, well..."

Finesse Check made!

And quicker than the boy could blink, Jack had steadied his plate of food before it could spill all over, earning a wince and an apologetic smile.

"Anyway, it's really good to see you, Jack. But how do you know Drake? Are you a prince yourself?"

Felix outright winced as Sophia smacked her brother so hard he actually yelped. "Don't be an idiot, and stop embarrassing me!" she hissed, before flowing into an apologetic curtsy before a nonplussed Jack.

"I do hope my brother hasn't offended you, my..."

"Jack," Jack quickly said with a wince as his friend broke out in peels of laughter. "Just Jack is fine."

Felix, the tallest among them by several inches, immediately gave a polite tip of his head that was almost a bow. "Well met once more, friend Jack. And thanks again for coming to our Gillien's timely rescue."

"Indeed," said Sophia, smiling warmly once more as she playfully crossed her arms and tapped a dainty foot. "Well? Are either of your handsome gentlemen going to tell us how you met the other?"

All three etherial mages, and not a few nearby lords, Jack noted, were now intently focused on their every word.

Jack felt his cheeks flush with sudden heat, realizing he had been a fool not to go over any cover story with his friend before now.

But Drake had already taken the lead. "Oh, that's easy!" he said, not hesitating to wrap his arm about Jacks' shoulders. "Jack may be salt-of-the-Earth, but he's got a hero's heart, and managed to both defend my honor and save my life in the span of a single day!"

The entire room seemed to freeze with those words, Sophia and Gillien both looking at Jack with something close to awe.

"Are you serious?" Gillien squeaked.

"Well of course he is!" said a gruff voice from somewhere deeper in the crowd. "Did none of you see the duel between Drake's champion and the infamous Aroust Craveat? Glorious match!"

Felix gave an oddly appraising nod of his head. "He does have the look of a warrior about him, though not any sort of a fencer," he said with an apologetic smile. "The way you carry your smallsword gives it away, I'm afraid."

Jack grinned, earning more than one gasp and whistle when his clenched fist abruptly burst into flame. "Good thing I have other talents at my disposal then, no?"

Sophia's eyes widened and she clapped at the sight. "It looks so real! Oh, please tell me you're joining us at the Academy next semester?"

Drake grinned. "Of course he is!" he then glared at Jack's now naked fist. "And you owe me a silk glove, Jack."

"Ah. sorry about that."

Sophia blinked. "Wait... that was real flame? I mean, your glorious rosebush was a marvel, but this? It's pure elemental magic!"

Felix nodded. "It almost has to be. Ethereal flame won't destroy one's attire like that."

"Low magic!" Jack heard at least a few people hiss.

Drake laughed. "It is indeed! And when it comes to facing living Nightmare, there's nothing I'd rather have at my back. Far better the raw power of the elements than the bitter memory of forgotten dreams that avail us nothing in the depths below!" Drakes cool grin widened as an entire ballroom's worth of guests gasped in sudden stillness.

"And now, surrounded by my closest friends, perhaps it's time I reveal the particulars of my sad little tale of treachery, spite, and twisted betrayal," he declared in a soft, intimate voice that still seemed to echo through the chamber entire, a bemused Jack noting that the young de Leone had gifts very much like his father's own, making it more clear than ever how he had gained access to his Adept class.

It was, quite literally, in his blood.

Just like Soul Weaver was in Jack's own.

"You will do no such thing. You will do no such thing!" Declared a panicked, rasping voice as an exceedingly short man burst through the throng of eager-looking lords and ladies flashing hungry smiles, like wolves about to devour a carcass of delicious gossip and rumor. Just the first step in hamstringing whatever influence the Hecklebarts still had here in the duchy's capital, Jack thought, as if the absurd duel the night before... or was it two nights before? Hadn't been enough.

Drake raised a bemused eyebrow at the intruder dressed in a ridiculous cross between a courtiers doublet and an ancient three piece suit complete with leather satchel burst into the small clearing occupied by Jack, Drake, and the other three youths, thronged as they were by nearly a score of nobles, the entire gala now seeming focused on the miniature play unfolding.

"And pray tell, who are you to dictate the conversational topics that I and my guests choose to pursue?" Mused the young Lord de Leone aloud.

The slender man stiffened and seemed to grow an inch, though he was still towered over by absolutely everyone else. "I am Barrister Polja, and I now personally represent Lord Hecklebert. Both Lord Hecklebart's mind you, and I will allow for no aspersions of my patrons' characters or honor! Particularly when the duel between you two has yet to be resolved!"

Snickers and outright laughter could be heard scattered throughout the crowd, but Drake carefully hid his smile, taking the supposed barrister's position very seriously. "I find it quite interesting that you declare the matter unresolved after Morlin fled like a terrified bitch and left his second to fight in his steed. A man who fought quite valiantly, by the way, for all that the virtue of my cause dictated his inevitable defeat before the prowess of my companion."

"Incorrect!" the barrister spluttered. "The esteemed and honorable Morlin Hecklebart was struck low by foul magics."

"Cowardice, more like!" snickered someone in the crowd.

"—and so retreated to safety, so he might heal in peace, free from the malice of folks like yourself!" the barrister roared in his nasally voice. "Rest assured, sirrah! When my master fully recovers, he will be more than eager to finish his duel with you, and put your unfounded aspersions of his character to rights! In the mean time, you are expressly forbidden from saying or implying anything that might impugn the honor of the Hecklebart clan, per the Council's own edicts!"

Jacks eyes widened at the sheer outrageousness of that declaration. He was surprised at just how much he wanted to wipe off the smarmy smirk the barrister was flashing all of them with, his wormy lips crawling into a particularly malevolent smile when the man looked Jack's way.

"And would you happen to be Jack Nameless, by any chance?"

And the way Jack's friends and acquaintances froze at those sibilant words sent alarm bells ringing in his head. As if countless legal dramas watched a lifetime ago hadn't been enough of a clue.

Without a word, he spun about on his foot and slipped through the crowd, Drake just a step behind him. "Wait up, Ernest!" Drake deliberately called.

"It's a trap!" Jack silently seethed to his friend.

"Of course it is. What the hell else could it be? That bloody conniving bastard! I'll bet you silver to gold that Morlin will be conveniently recuperating in his family chateau until the very day fall semester starts! Then he'll have a miraculous recovery, and our chance for justice will slip forever through our fingers."

Jack furrowed his brow at that. "What do you mean?" he thought, but Barrister Polja clearly wasn't done with them yet, hollering into the crowd as loud as he could.

"I present this writ of arrest for one Jack Nameless for dereliction of duty, absence without leave, and imperiling the life of an officer! You are hereby remanded into Lord Hecklebart's custody until such a time as you are sentenced by military tribunal!"

Jack's heart began to pound, the blood roaring in his ears even as he maintained his steady pace despite the sudden knot of anxiety in his guts, the cold shiver racing down his spine. But he he had no intention of looking back at the fiercely grinning jackal at his back he somehow just knew was holding a binding writ that would seal his fate if he dared to touch it. "Yeah, that's not happening."

He caught his friend's gaze. "If that bastard thinks for one moment he can manipulate me into becoming his drone slave... I'll set his whole damned villa ablaze." His mind flashed over countless images of betrayal and darkest revenge from every single tale he had ever read in his parent's library. Though now he was forced to wonder if they were tales at all.

Or so much more.

Drake actually blanched at whatever he saw in Jack's gaze, and in truth Jack was shocked by the intensity of his own thoughts, but all his friend did was flash Jack a reassuring smile. "Our turn isn't over yet, Shieldbrother. Come. To father's study. As fast as we can."