Max had felt like a talpo underground in a bunker with Emporer Valeborn and his extended family for a month.

His eyes were sensitive, and he wore sunglasses while sitting on a pier off Lake Grandioza.

Lake Grandioza was a massive undertaking, man-made, and on the eastern seaboard of Mu. In the center was Uragano. Uragano was a small city owned by close relatives of House Valeborn, House Ĉieldomo. It was a beautiful escape from the dirty sounds and filth of the city. All the Nobli loved to come there and pretend they could survive in the wilderness every time they vacationed in Uragano.

Weavers hated Uragano.

Uragano was made near what they believed was The Gates To Elysium, and to them, trying to make anything near it was blasphemous. The Aria Empire did not care what they thought since the Dynasty of House Tero ended, so their opinion was moot.

Max was on Uragano, a paradise for the Nobli, working to protect the Emporer, and started to think that Eric might be right. He kicked his feet in the water while watching the Empress playing with her son nearby. He was sad, wanting to swim in the lake, but his work entailed watching other people enjoy their lives.

"How are you holding up?"

He turned to look at the voice from behind and it was Tiffany. She wore a striped red and white two-piece, with a white, large hat to block out the sun. There wasn't much left to block out with the slow fading of its light, and the government was now considering instituting false daylight after the construction of the Dyson Sphere.

"I'm sad," Max admitted. "Bored too."

"I have a solution," Tiffany said.

She hugged him from behind and Max tried not to smile from feeling her soft everything pressing up behind him. She told him that she was worried about his anger lately, that she wanted nothing more than for him to be happy, and that soon, very soon, they could go back to something close to normal.

"Tonight we can have fun. You can escort me to the party," she said. "Get Sir Nash to take care of Emporer Valeborn."

"You're allowed to go?"

"Misstresses go all the time and men never acknowledge them," Tiffany laughed. "It's such a fun way to tease them."

"It sounds like you've done this before..."

"Oh, I have. And I will again."

Max wanted her to flirt with him like that. He liked the chase even though most men hated it. Tiffany knew when to stop was why it worked between them when they used to flirt that way.

"Duke Blythe said he'll cut off my dick and stuff it in my mouth if I'm ever alone with you again," Max said.

"We'll be in a room of a hundred-plus people," she replied.

"Why is he like this?"

"I think he knows. Knows that we used to be together. That's why he's getting me a place soon."

"Wow! You're a self-made woman!"

Tiffany playfully slapped his shoulder, let go of him, and sat next to him on the pier. She didn't want to leave the Duke because she was starting to care for him but because it interfered with their plans.

"If I'm not with him frequently, how can I know what they're up to! Think, Max!"

"Oh. Huh. We can get someone else. Free house."

"And then what," Tiffany asked.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Max shrugged.

"Quit," he said. "Be happy."

"I want you to be happy too. Apologize to Eric."

He lied and said he'd think about it.

----------------------------------------

Max wore a white suit to the ball held that night.

His blue gem was inside his pocket and he was going to leave it at the main house until he received a strange call an hour before the ball was set to begin.

A concerned voice on the other end of the line said someone was attempting to kill the Emporer that night. That wasn't very surprising at all, but what was, was that the person knew who it was, what they looked like, who they would be arriving with, and other details. He knew some of the information about the terrorist attack at the Emporer's speech a few months ago and feared that another attack would soon happen at a major city.

His only plea was to spare the partner the assassin had brought to the ball that night.

Max promised to 'try his best to protect the Emporer and his subjects', and ended the call.

Max wasn't stupid and told security.

He arrived at the ball at 9 PM, with a giant smile and Tiffany on his arm. She wore a matching white, sparkling white dress that trailed on the floor, with her back showing, and people stared at the audacity of it all. Duke Blythe's eyes never left them until his wife got his attention, asking him very specific, angry questions.

The Nobli congregated in the foyer, standing in front of the grand staircase waiting for Emporer Valeborn to appear. The marble floor was patterned brown, gold, and white, and columns were decorated with golden and black paser carved into them. A hanging garden was above them, and sporadically a petal or leaf would fall to the ground, delighting or annoying the guests, depending on their mood.

Max was eating mushy cheese from a charcuterie plate that an android was walking around with when Tiffany started tapping his shoulder.

"Is that them," she asked.

Everyone was on high alert, looking for the assassin. A body double would be used tonight to lure him out. Max looked over to where she was pointing, but no, he did not fit the description.

"Dis guy is fat," Max said through chews. "Nope."

"What if the hint was a false lead?"

"Then why warn us of the assassin coming at all?"

"Didn't the caller say he can change his face," Tiffany replied.

Max gasped.

"We've been looking for the wrong person this entire time. We need to look for the person he came with."

They split up, walking on opposite sides of the room, trying to keep a smile on their face, not to scare the guests and let the killer get away. He briskly walked near the walls, scanning the room, and finally found the assassin's partner. Max was amazed that he didn't notice him earlier because he was so loud.

He was a young blonde man, wearing a black suit, and gold-rimmed glasses with long chains to keep them falling off. He was talking to Duke Blythe and his wife, and they were making jokes while eating pastelakvo. Max slowed his pace, took a drink from a nearby waiter, and put on a charismatic smile.

He was going to get him alone, torture information out of him, and possibly kill him.

Duke Blythe's smile faded when Max said hello, but his wife was delighted to see him.

"It's the Phantom Knight himself," Duchess Valeria said. "I've heard so much about you!"

"What have you heard, My Lady," Max asked.

"That you saved some people escaping! So amazing! If only the other...degenerates..were like you. You're one of the good ones."

She patted his arm, and Max forced another friendly smile and tried to take the backhanded yet well-meaning compliment in stride.

"Who is this," Max asked.

"Oh this man right here," Valeria replied. "Guess what his name is?"

"What is it...?"

"My name is Ĉiel," he proudly announced.

"Your mother named you after a slang phrase? For every which way? That's impossible."

"Don't be jealous," Ĉiel replied.

"I'm not."

Max sipped his drink and Duke Blythe was amused with his poorly concealed disdain for the guest.

"Why do they call you the Phantom Knight? Sounds kind of overblown," Ĉiel asked.

Duke Blythe liked him even more.

"I can talk to the dead. They like me a lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they're telling me right now you don't have very long left, you should probably leave."

Duchess Valeria went pale and looked around, fearful, but her husband rolled his eyes, not believing the peko fairytales.

"Don't worry," Max assured them. "I'm the Phantom Knight. I can save you. Come with me."

Ĉiel did not want to go with someone he just met. He was hesitant, but the Duchess made him go. She was very superstitious and believed every word Max said.

"Go with him, dear Ĉiel. You're too young to die. It's a sign," she said. "There have been so many attempts on the Nobli lives lately."

"Yes, M'Lady," he said begrudgingly.

Max kept his friendly demeanor while escorting the man out of the foyer. He started to feel sympathy for him.

Maybe he was coerced into coming in with the assassin and tried to compromise. He could bring him to another room instead of taking him out of the building to get a confession. It would make him more compliant.

It worked, and Ĉiel started to relax a little when taken to a study room on the second floor. Max chose it because it had no windows, only one door, and he didn't think there were many objects in the room that could be used as weapons.

"Sit," Max commanded.

Ĉiel sat on the hovering couch, the study weirdly modern, like the rest of the rooms compared to the bottom floor. He sat on the farthest end of the couch from Max while Max leaned on the door, crossed his arms, and the interrogation began.