Brinn watched the servant's entrance into the palace with an eagle's eye. If she were sneaking into a palace, this is where she would come. There were many unfamiliar faces and unknown names. One more would not be suspicious.
Gandr was watching all the nobility at the front of the palace, and the red-headed elf had happily let him take that post. "If there is one thing worse than evil gnomes, it is self-important nobility," Brinn had said.
Gandr tilted his head quizzically, "Aren't you a princess back home?"
The spymaster narrowed her gaze. "So I should know!" She turned her nose up in the air, very glad that only a few knew her secret.
After that they had parted ways, and now Brinn was pretending to be distracted by a roasted bird while monitoring those entering next to the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a band of rough looking entertainers enter rowdily asking for scraps of food. The elf was instantly on alert.
"Can't a man get a little dinner around here before he has to perform?" One of the men asked. Even his accent was crude. He claimed to be some sort of acrobat, but he was wearing a tight-fitting patchwork outfit and looked more like a jester.
The cook tried to ignore the group, but one of them pinched her on the rear. She swatted at them and moved to continue her business. This only made the entertainers more forceful. "Hey! What does a fellow have to do to get fed?" A second man asked. His appearance was even more ridiculous than the first. His hair was long and knotted, and was tied around a tall hat so that it resembled snakes. He reached out and took hold of the cook's arm.
Seeing the cook be assaulted, Brinn could not stand idly by. "Leave the cook alone!" She said firmly.
"Stay out of this, little girl," the acrobat pushed Brinn. It was then that the elf remembered that she had shapeshifted to look like a member of the kitchen staff. Revealing herself would cause confusion and create other problems. She thought quickly on her feet.
"If you mess with the cook, she may spit in your food. Do you boys have brains at all?" The elf smiled sweetly. Her words caught the men off guard.
"It makes sense," a third performer said. This one had a broad nose and a tattoo of a dragon running the length of his bare chest. "Could we have a bite to eat please?"
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"We could just steal it," the first one muttered, but Brinn could hear it clearly. It was not uncommon for entertainment to take a little extra with them when they left. Some of them had very sticky fingers.
Rather than risk a crime, Brinn decided to back the crude group. "Come on, Cook. They said please."
Cook sighed. "I have too much to do to be messing with you lot. Go grab some stew from the servants' pot. Mind you, I will be counting all the spoons and bowls afterwards, so they better not grow legs and walk away."
The men were satisfied and walked off, but not before the man in the tall had gave a mocking bow. "Thank you, ladies," he added sarcastically. Brinn moved to avoid his hat, but the man's hair brushed against her nose.
It smelled of seaweed.
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Gandr was having a grand time schmoozing the elite of the Valiant Empire. He had disguised himself as a duke, and so everyone wanted to be in his good graces. Since the world was so large, no one knew every duke, and this made it easy to pretend to be one. The halfling enjoyed watching all the styles and entourages as they appeared.
The family closest in relation to the Empress, Lord Androlius (elder brother of the late Lord Turpilius) and his children exited their carriage. They made a spectacle of their entrance, even releasing doves into the air as he mounted the steps. Even Gandr could not help applauding with the rest of them.
"Humans know how to throw parties," he said to himself. Gnomes probably would have enjoyed a good party, but they were all too greedy to host one and have to share their wealth. It was a shame that so many pretty things were squirreled away underground by the hoarders. A gnome party would possibly be a grander than even this. Not that the halfling would be invited to such a party if it were to happen.
Men in handsome robes and ladies covered in jewels came one after the other to enter the palace. Gandr struggled not to stare at the precious gems, as they were often draped across ladies' cleavage. He did receive a nasty look when he spent too long admiring an exquisite blue sapphire. Gandr barely escaped a punch from the lady's escort, but later found a lacey handkerchief tucked in his belt. He never figured out how the cloth arrived at that position.
"Quite a lot a pomp, isn't it?" A voice behind him asked. Gandr turned to see a thin man with a dark mustache smiling at him. The man continued, "I have seen you eyeing each person who arrives. It is quite excessive."
The halfling felt foolish for not noticing the man earlier. But the man was human, so Gandr hadn't really been looking for him. "I like the look of fine things. A little pomp never hurt anyone." Gandr shrugged.
The man pulled at his chin. "Oh, I just assumed you were part of the palace's security. My mistake."
Gandr's eyes bulged out of his head. Recovering himself, he chuckled. "No harm done. I am Lord Mirage. And you are?"
"I am Lord Picaroon," the man said with a bow.
"I have not heard of you," Gandr said suspiciously.
"There are so many lords and ladies these days. I don't know half of them myself," Lord Picaroon said mildly.
"If you don't mind me asking, how did you come by such an exotic name?"
Picaroon chuckled, "I live along the coast and my parents thought that they were being clever."
"I see." Gandr could not argue. The man's accent did sound like others he had met from one of the costal regions.
"You know, I do not recall having heard your name before either, Lord Mirage." Picaroon smiled blandly.
The gnome looked at him evenly. "As you said, there are so many lords and ladies…" Gandr turned the words back on the thin man.
"And how did you come about your unique name?"
"My parents always hoped I would be something I am not." Gandr said only half-lying.
Picaroon laughed, "That sounds like every parent! Cannot please them, can we? Now shall we go in to join the festivities?" He patted the gnome on the shoulder gently.
Looking around, Gandr realized that the arrivals had stopped and everyone had cleared the area. Not wanting to blow his cover, he decided to agree. "Lead the way," he said jovially.
And like two friends, they entered the palace each hoping that the other had not seen through his disguise.