Cass followed Alyx up the stairs to the palace. Telis had dressed them in robes of silken fabric, Cass in dark blue with long, wide sleeves and a short train that glided effortlessly behind her, Alyx in deep green thing of a more square or masculine cut—at least, to Cass’s eyes.

Alyx wore her hair in tight braids pinned to her head in a twisting design, the excess coming together in a short ponytail. A mask resembling a snarling wolf adorned the side of her head. It was made of an opaque green glass and shimmered beautifully atop her red hair.

As always, Alyx wore her swords on her hip, while Cass used her staff as a walking stick. Salos rode proudly on Cass’s shoulder.

They were far from alone. Around them, other well-to-dos ascended as well.

Most were human. Darker skin tones were as much the norm among the guests as they had been in the town before, as were hair colors Cass had never naturally seen on people before—lots of dark, almost-black purples and deep, forest greens.

Intermixed among the humans were a handful of elves—taller and slimmer than the humans, their pallet shifting more olive, their hair more pink—and dwarves—shorter and stouter by a wide margin, their features rougher around the edges and their hair braided in tight neat knots.

They were dressed similarly, some in the sharp square cut Alyx sported, others in flowing gowns and robes. Many wore masks like Alyx’s. Wolves were common. As were apes and cats.

All carried some sort of weapon. Swords were the most common by far, but there was no shortage of spears, hammers, daggers, and more. One man carried a whip on his belt—a belt that looked suspiciously like a second whip to Cass.

“I know you said that it was expected, but should we really be carrying weapons into the palace?” Cass asked again.

“Naturally,” Alyx said again.

That really didn’t explain anything to Cass. At all.

“How else are you going to defend yourself or your host?” Alyx asked, elaborating on her clipped answer for the first time.

“Why would I need to defend my host?”

Alyx laughed. “I know it seems unlikely in the middle of the city, doubly so in the middle of the palace, but imagine you were visiting a friend in the countryside? How embarrassed would you be to let that friend defend you from monsters? How embarrassed would you be if you could not defend their hall after they opened their hospitality to you?”

This was a hospitality thing? “But isn’t that backward?”

Alyx frowned.

Cass wasn’t an expert on Earth’s historical stance on this kind of thing, and the lack of monsters on Earth surely made a difference, but, “Isn’t it the host that should protect their guests?”

“Interesting,” Alyx muttered. “Extending a host’s duties beyond food and shelter to physical safety. But then what does the guest contribute? What makes the exchange equal?”

“Equal? I don’t think they are?”

“Why would anyone accept guests then?”

“I mean, they might be your friends.” But historically? She only knew about ancient Greek rules on hospitality. They cared for and protected travelers. There were probably a lot of reasons for that, but the only one Cass knew was, “I think there was a fear once upon a time that your guest was a god and you did not want to risk offending them.”

“Why would the gods want to stay as your guest?” Alyx asked.

Cass shrugged. “It was something that happened a lot in those kinds of stories. But, more importantly, this isn’t just some friend’s house in the countryside. This is the ducal—” Was that right? The most powerful person here wasn’t a queen, so it wasn’t ‘royal’ but they filled the same social role as a queen as far as Cass could tell—“palace. Where I’m from, you can’t bring weapons anywhere near important people like that.” Or into public gatherings. Or into events with any number of people. Or anywhere, really. You really weren’t supposed to have weapons anywhere in peaceful places on Earth.

Then again, could you really call this place peaceful?

“Why would a powerful leader restrict weapons near them?” Alyx asked.

“I think the worry is they’d be used against them.”

“Then how would they go about enforcing that? Either, they’re strong enough to force others to leave their weapons behind—in which case, why fear the weapons—or they aren’t—in which case announcing they don’t want weapons near them is simply announcing weakness.”

That made a certain amount of sense, Cass supposed. It wasn’t like royalty on Earth were one man walking armies like it sounded like they were here.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Besides, it’s not like disarming a person strictly makes them not a threat,” Alyx added. “Although most combat skills are tied up with a particular weapon or weapon class, there are plenty that can be used without a tool or are just as powerful with an improvised weapon. Just look at your skill set.”

That was true too, wasn’t it? Staff Mastery was far from her most deadly skill.

At the top of the stairs, a sprawling garden waited before them. A long fountain split the road into two from the stairs to the palace, rising at the far end. Lights danced over the water like fireflies. Carefully groomed topiaries lined the road. Tall trees hung over the road, framing the towering pagoda tower rising from the center of the palace.

The inside of the palace was no less impressive.

The entryway was enormous, all white stone and shimmering glass. Opposite the entry doors were a series of stained glass murals, each set into the stone and shining from within. There were seven, each depicting a figure in armor with a dragon at their side. Beneath each was a symbol reminiscent of a coat of arms.

All except the panel furthest to the left. A heavy cloth hung over it, the symbol beneath had unceremoniously been destroyed, cracked stone the only thing remaining.

“What are those?” Cass asked.

Alyx glanced at them, then looked away. “Portraits of the current Dragon Knights.”

“There are only six?”

Alyx nodded, though there was a displeasure in her eyes that Cass couldn’t explain.

“Is the covered one going to depict whoever is chosen this year?” Cass asked.

“No.” Alyx didn’t look back at Cass, her pace increasing. “That depicts the knight we don’t talk about.”

“You have a knight you don’t talk about?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a story there?”

Alyx stopped and shot a glare over her shoulder at Cass. “Which part of ‘we don’t talk about them’ is not being translated for you?”

Cass looked away sheepishly. “Sorry.”

It was a touchy subject then. She’d have to find some other way to satisfy her curiosity then.

Instead, Cass asked, “There are only six dragon knights? I thought there would be more.”

“Dragons have very long lives and they have children very infrequently. Those they do have are very weak until they are three years old. It is not unusual for an entire clutch to have died before then. This year is special because two made it to nine years old.

“There are only dragon bindings at this festival once every ten to fifteen years. The last one was well over twenty years ago,” Alyx said.

“That’s a long gap?” Cass said.

Alyx clicked her tongue. “Yes. Yes, it was.”

There was something more here. But pushing now could only end badly. Instead, Cass let Alyx lead her on into the banquet hall.

The hall was massive.

Bigger than any auditorium Cass had ever found herself in. Bigger than any cathedral. And ‘cathedral’ was the closest word Cass could think of to describe the room, if only for the glowing stained glass ceiling above.

The glass shimmered in a sweeping picture of a night sky, with swirling blues intermixed with the gold of the stars like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. And in this sea of stars, dragons coiled through the image, their image rendered in shimmering glass. The light cast through this impressive scene lit the hall in a blueish tone, casting the whole affair in an otherworldly air.

Cass stared at it as Alyx led them to a table near the front. It was one of dozens arranged on either side of a long aisle from the door to the head table. Most had a handful of people already and all were slowly filling in with more.

Identify flagged the vast majority of them as some kind of weapons expert. Swordsmen, spearmen, axemen, duelists, archers, the list went on. And all of them held their weapons nearby. Smaller weapons hung from belts or remained strapped to breasts. Larger weapons hung from the backs of chairs or leaned against the table beside them.

Cass recognized the two already seated at the table Alyx chose: the men who had tried to pressure her out of the guest room.

“What are you doing here?” Kohen—Alyx’s brother, dark-skinned with darker purple hair and onyx eyes—glared at Alyx across the table.

Alyx grinned. “What kind of question is that, young master? It’s the start of the Rising Dragon Festival. Everyone is invited. And, where else should I sit but with the house which hosts me? Isn’t that why young lord Ophir is sitting with us?”

She pulled out a chair and seated herself directly across from Kohen as she spoke. There were plenty of other tables still open, yet Alyx hadn’t so much as looked at any of them.

Cass sighed and sat beside Alyx, leaning her staff against the table beside her.

“I invited him. No one invited you,” he snapped.

“Where is Ahryn?” Alyx asked, completely ignoring his jab.

Kohen glared at her, perhaps debating if he was going to keep throwing jabs or if he was going to let her change the topic.

“Sick again’s what I heard,” Tiador Ophir—Kohen’s friend and supposed guest from afar—answered for Kohen.

“Then is ‘mother’ sitting tonight out too?” Alyx’s eyes swept the hall for the first time.

Much of the room had filled in already. Only the tables at the head of the room remained unseated. There were two of them, both standing on the raised dais at the end of the room. One was obviously the head table, long and imposing and constructed from all black wood. A throne sat behind it, evidently waiting for the duchy’s monarch to arrive. The other was a low-lying table, far smaller and set to the right and a little behind the head table. Perhaps a place for the night’s guests of honor?

“Yes,” Kohen said, evidently deciding joining Alyx’s conversation was less petulant than ignoring her entirely. “And father is sitting with our aunts.”

“Uncle Verdin’s still at large?” Alyx asked, her eyes focusing on one of the two tables just below the dais. Three people sat there, all impassively ignoring the others, two women and one man, all quite stern-looking. All with dark hair and darker eyes.

“Who knows where he’s gone this time,” Kohen answered dryly.

“I’m surprised Aunt Zaryn isn’t sitting with the Fangs.”

“Who knows what she’s thinking.” Kohen tossed his hands in the air. “But seriously, why are you here? I would’ve thought you would spend the Festival down in the lower city.”

“Why would I hide now?” Alyx asked with an easy confidence.

He frowned, but before he could ask further questions, a hum rose over the room. Music swelled. The hall doors swung open.