Thomas opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling and sat up, remembering that he was in the nobles' quarters. In his reflection in the large mirror above the wooden desk opposite to him, he saw himself with two large bags under his eyes. He yawned and threw his sheets off himself. He put on his new set of clothes that his father had given him right before he left, the soft shirt and pants sliding onto his tired body. He made his bed, readied his bag for the day, and walked to the door, but stopped. 'I might have to kill someone today.' He glanced back at the mirror. His bleak expression contrasted against the colorful room. 'Should I put on my armor yet?'

Five minutes later, he was fully decked out with his newest set of armor specially made by Kilot, a Dwarven blacksmith that had recently come out of retirement. The set that he wore was similar to Doevm's armor, chain mail with metal plates, a mix of leather and metal greaves and boots.

As he examined himself in the mirror, he knew he made the right choice to pick this light set instead of the thick metal set his father had chosen for him. If not for Jameson's intervention, Thomas wouldn't even be able to move his arms right now. He smiled. 'I wonder if they would be proud of me after today?' He rubbed his eyes and walked out of the room. Even though he had smiled for less than a second, his mouth already hurt.

The dining hall was just as full as the last time that he was there. Fresh pancakes were stacked up at the back of the room, except now there were servants swarming the station to deliver meals to the young nobles.

Dag and Eugene were bickering like usual. Dag waved his dagger around while Eugene pushed up his glasses. Jackal was shoving his face full of pancakes while Molly pouted for some reason. Thomas got his serving of pancakes and joined them. 'It's odd,' he thought as he took a seat. 'After one day, all those stares from the other nobles went away. I'm back to just another noble, one of them. I should be happy right now; that I'm fitting in and all that.'

"No bacon today?" Molly asked as she brought a steak out of her spatial ring. While it wasn't big, it was so tender that it nearly bounced when hitting the plate, making even Dag drool a little. "Looks like you were trying to show off after all." She smirked and called a servant to cut her food.

Thomas didn't let anyone cut his pancakes for him, content to just pick them with a fork. 'What would Doevm or Frey say? I wanted this, right?' After cutting his food up, he stabbed a piece and held it to his mouth. A small trail of steam left the delicious bite, waiting to be devoured. He set it down and grimaced at his lack of hunger. Molly just smirked and ate her steak, thinking Thomas realized how lowly he was.

"What's a matter?" Jackal asked in between bites of his stack of a dozen pancakes. "Eat up. You'll need your strength for today. You might get to kill someone, remember." He smiled and shoved an entire pancake into his mouth.

'That's right,' Thomas looked at the other nobles again. 'I thought they weren't staring at me like yesterday, but that's because they are trying to hide it.' As he thought this, the indifferent looks turned into unspoken challenges, the looks of enemies, the same looks as the thieves he had killed. They no longer looked at him with respect. Now, they were evaluating him. 'I wanted this. I have to keep going.' He stared at his pancake, but his hunger did not surface.

"Here, try this," Jackal took out a bottle full of a viscous dark liquid and poured some of it on Thomas's pancakes.

"What's this?" Thomas held up a piece of pancake. The liquid stuck to it, absorbing into the pancake and darkening it a bit. As he stabbed into it, a bit of it leaked.

Molly leaned forward and poked at it with her finger: "Ew," she wiped her finger off and sat back in her chair. "I know what this is."

Jackal, Dag, and Eugene stifled their laughs, or else their shins would feel her wrath. Thomas just raised an eyebrow. "It's called syrup," Jackal said, trying to keep his voice to a normal tone. "It's something that my father invented a couple years ago." Jackal took out another few bottles. "It was quite popular. I'm surprised that you didn't hear of it. Seriously, how isolated were you? Try it." Thomas sniffed the piece before taking a bite. "Pretty good right?" Jackal poured a bottle on his own pancakes and chowed down.

"So you guys usually eat this stuff?" Thomas asked, already finished with his meal. The rest nodded, except for Molly. "Jameson and Owen…I mean two of my father's servants usually control what I eat to bland stuff like plants and occasional pieces of meat. I didn't think there would be anything that would compete with bacon." He finished his meal and sat back with a round belly.

Molly took a bottle and poured a single drop on a piece of steak. Jackal, Dag, and Eugene tried not to laugh as she sheepishly took a bite and blanched. After, however, she punched everyone, even the innocent Thomas, and ate the rest of her meal with her usual scowl. They all left after the meal, heading for the Colosseum.

The last to get up was a girl. Unbeknownst to the groups of nobles, she sat in the corner table with only a few pancakes. She ate slowly, lifting the perfectly cut pieces of pancake with her calloused hands to her mouth and chewing. Her long, straight, jet-black hair stopped just before her shoulders, which were covered with a simple yet expensive fine cloth.

The tablecloth draped over her legs. She faced the room and was the closest to an exit. Throughout the meal, she never looked away from the people in the room. The old servant who collected the plates approached her. "Are you finished with that?" she asked.

"Yes. Thank you for asking." She handed the servant the plate, who bowed and went around the room to collect the rest of the leftovers. Elero headed towards the door but felt a tug at her leg. She looked back and cursed, "Not again." She pulled out a rapier from her spatial ring and cut at the tablecloth. She shambled away and made sure that none of the cloth had gotten stuck inside the metal braces around each of her swollen legs.

She sighed and shambled towards the door. With each step, her gears clicked against one another. The many poles around her legs went up and down to force her broken legs to step. The needles and nails sunk in and out of her legs' tendons and muscles. She pushed her dress down more, so that the skirt covered the contraption.

She stared at all the competitors leaving the building through the dinning hall's one window that wasn't covered by curtains. 'Today's the day,' she thought. 'I finally go talk to someone.' It took her a few minutes to make it over to the door and swing it open. The servant didn't help her as she struggled to maneuver out of the door, just as Elero had requester her not to on the first day.

Just as she stepped through the door, a man in a suit covered head to toe in sweat approached her. He leaned against the wall and caught his breath. The man tried to pull his gaze from her legs, but like the girl's family and everyone else, failed. "I'm so sorry miss Mech," He bowed and tore his gaze away, almost leaning forward to make explicit eye contact.

"You didn't do anything," Elero sneered before taking a breath. "I'm sorry, I just get that a lot and it's getting on my nerves. It's not your fault. What did you want to tell me?"

"Ah, yes," The servant reached into his pocket and fiddled around with the various papers in his pocket. After a few seconds, he held the note forward. It must have been too sudden because Elero chopped the letter away and backed up. "It's just a note." The man let out a nervous chuckle and left. "What a strange girl," he couldn't help but whisper before he left.

Elero sighed and facepalmed. "I did it again. Damn it." She set the matter aside and stared at the note on the floor. She reached for it, but the braces could only bend so far. 'Come on, just a foot away,' Her gears clicked against one another until they locked up, and she fell.

She immediately sat herself up and against the wall, her legs dragging behind her. She grabbed the note and opened it. "Another healer?" She looked at her legs. "I hope he's better than the rest." She folded it up and put it in her pocket, next to the dozens of other letters from healers from across the country. 'Now what?' She thought as she sat on the ground like a lost child, useless and pathetic.

'Now what?' She buried her face into her hands, hoping the servant wouldn't look at her wet face. She banged against the metal poles in her braces, only stopping when her hands were red and the gears unclicked. She pulled out her walking stick, wiped the tears from her face, propped herself back up, and headed for the Colosseum.