After she had said her piece, Princess Sumaki walked off. Even though her brother had followed her, he had apologized for his sister's rude behavior first. Right as the siblings disappeared around a corner, Sonco and Primus emerged from a hallway. A content grin on his face, his uncle pat Corco on the back.

"You handled yourself well there, but maybe it's time to go back now. You'll have to look steadfast in front of our people," Sonco said.

"I lost my temper." His head aimed at his feet, Corco still beat himself up over his mess of a confrontation with Pacha.

"These things happen. Unless someone were to seek fault, your reaction was entirely understandable. None of our allies will think less of you, and you managed to control yourself quite well in front of the furia just now."

Surprised, the prince looked back up.

"You were watching?"

"Hahaha, the kid tried to run out by himself as soon as we found you, but this old man thought it might be better to let you sort things out yourself. Either way, you'll have to stand on your own two feet someday. Can't have my axe helping you out all the time." Sonco laughed as he put his arm around the stiff shoulders of Primus.

"Well, I don't think I did that well,” Corco replied with a wry smile.

“At least you did better than I expected. I thought you'd explode again when that pompous Chutwa servant started to speak in foreign tongues.” When Corco thought back to the arrogant master Mazatl, realized that he could control himself because he had been more concerned with his sister than his own pride.

"Prince Corco, at least now we know that Prince Pacha will not be an opponent. No such simpleton will become emperor." While Primus tried his best to throw off Sonco's heavy arm, he ridiculed Pacha in an attempt to cheer up his teacher. In response, Corco went into lecture mode again.

"You really shouldn't underestimate Pacha, or anyone, for that matter. Who knows, maybe it's all an act. After all, a weak successor would attract all the strong lords who strive for more power."

"So Prince Pacha has tricked the other lords? Then your words at the end of your speech were meant to dissuade lords from joining him!" In principle, Primus didn't have a bad idea. Earlier, Corco had claimed any lord to support Pacha would only do so to exploit the imperial family. Just the claim by itself would damage the reputation of Prince Pacha's allies should they insist on their support. However, Corco didn't think it would help much.

"If it were that easy," he said as his hand ran through his hair. "No one ambitious enough to challenge the authority of the palace is gonna change their mind just because I exposed their plan. They can come up with any number of excuses. At least now, we'll know one thing: Everyone who still supports Pacha after tonight will be our enemy."

"Come on my boy, we really should go back," Sonco urged again.

"After you, uncle," Corco smiled back. Although he had left the banquet in distress, he was glad to have taken his little time out. Despite his meeting with Spuria, he felt a lot calmer already.

As the trio returned back into their camp's alcove, many of the lords greeted Corco with encouraging nods and smiles. It seemed the atmosphere was not as poor as he had thought.

"I told you, my boy. Most estates are quite happy to see someone stand up to that self-important peacock," Sonco said with a grin. It was nice that his uncle was optimistic, but Corco was sure that the lords in the other camps hadn't taken his outburst this well. On the plus side, Corco's description of his baby brother might stain him like blood on white robes, with how fond of gossip the lords were.

Once the evening was back on track, Corco resumed the work expected of him. As part of his duties, he would have to visit the tables of all his guests for a return visit. First, he went around his own alcove to give back small gifts in return for the ones he had received before. He could also use the chance to talk to all the lords in his camp and promise solutions to their varied troubles. As a bonus, he got to listen to their complaints about Prince Pacha's attitude. Maybe things weren't all bad.

After the sky had gone dark and the torches and coals had been lit, he had finished up his obligations within his own camp. For a while Corco sat back down to relax his shoulders, have a little drink and observe the happenings in the central court.

“The spring is coming by a many signs;

The trays are up, the hedges broken down,

That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines

Like some old antique fragment weathered brown.

And where suns peep, in every sheltered place,

The little early buttercups unfold

A glittering star or two--till many trace

The edges of the blackthorn clumps in gold.

And then a little lamb bolts up behind

The hill and wags his tail to meet the yoe,

And then another, sheltered from the wind,

Lies all his length as dead--and lets me go

Close bye and never stirs but baking lies,

With legs stretched out as though he could not rise.”

While Corco had made himself busy, the center of the yard had changed appearances. Since turning the center into a viewing gallery had backfired, Spuria had been forced to re-examine her plans for the evening. Instead of wasting the central space as a collective spy network, representatives would now stay within their chosen alcoves. Meanwhile, the central court would house various types of entertainment for them, a far more reasonable setup. At this point, various young lords and scholars took turns up on a stage in the center. Eager to try and impress the powerful figures of the empire with their sophistication, they recited poetry or played music. Corco had no interest in any of it. After all, there was still more work to be done. He had received congratulations from many houses throughout the evening, so he would have to pay a return visit to them all unless he wanted to be called uncultured.

"Let's get this over with."

Thus, Corco took Primus and his prepared gifts and went on an epic quest to the neighboring alcove.

Since the prince had been placed into the court's far left corner and thus only had one neighbor to choose from, which group to visit next turned into a trivial decision. Once they had reached the next nook over, they found it in a far less harmonious atmosphere than their own. Various lords were seated in small, isolated groups which talked among themselves in hushed voices, as they threw suspicious glances into their surroundings. Something like this was to be expected, since the groups represented here were all members of the so-called neutral faction. Some of the lords were undecided on which prince to support; some wanted to stay out of the succession altogether, but still needed to be involved in the events of the capital to stay relevant; some wanted to use the weakness of the royal family to strengthen their own powers; some were from the north, some from the south and some from the east. It was a mess.

"What an honored guest has graced us with his presence!" A booming voice from the center of the alcove announced Corco's arrival. To follow up on the voice, a tall, wild-looking man in his fifties with long, braided hair under a bald head came towards the prince and his attendant.

"Lord Villca. Prince Corco thanks you for your gifts and good wishes and has come to reply in kind. Please kindly accept this gift as a token of gratitude." As practiced in their home court, Corco reached behind and waited for Primus to put the prepared present into his hand. Of course, the gifts had all been hand-picked by the prince himself. As an experienced merchant, Corco would never miss a chance to promote his business.

"Oh, what is it?" the old warrior asked as he held up the strange objects.

"They are valuable treasures from the east. Soap, perfume and a feather quill. The perfume's smell will last much longer than ordinary flower waters. The soap is an excellent way to remove dirt and other impurities during the bath, while the quill is an extremely practical writing tool. They also come in high-quality crystal glass wares."

"Good, good. Come, Prince. Let this Lord show you around as you give out your trinkets. The men of the south should stick together after all."

Although Lord Villca seemed to care little for Corco's wares, he still helped him break the ice with the present lords. Though suspicious, the prince would accept any good will he could get. Some of the houses were still worked up about the earlier public display between the two princes and Villca could help smooth the waves.

Villca's own stance on the succession wasn't hard to guess. Of course he would favor an outcome which included an independent Sachay. Not only was he one of the richest southern lords right next to Sonco, his estate of Cashan was also placed right at the mouth of the narrow sea, the border between the northern and the southern isles. As the front line in wars between the two islands, geography gifted his estate with a political position of unique importance. Adding on Villca's own prowess in battle and his advocacy for more powerful local estates and it was no surprise that he had become the de-facto leader among the neutral lords. Thus, he was the one best suited to lead Corco around the alcove with its mixture of backgrounds and agendas.

With the southern lord's help, the visit went smoothly. As planned, the merchant prince gave out sample after sample of his products, but of course the fun couldn't last. Maybe Villca thought that things had been going too well up until now, but without warning, his mind moved in a strange direction.

"Prince Corco," he said with a look out into the central yard, "would you not be interested in showing your talents to the lords? It would be a splendid chance to show your acumen."

As he looked at the nameless young lord on stage recite another poem on the beauty of spring, Corco frowned.

"I don't like this style. It's affectatious nonsense. Right now, the empire is going through the greatest changes in a century. Its very existence is threatened. In comparison, what's the point of waxing... let's just say lyrically, about thawing snow and blooming flowers?"

"Prince's words are too harsh. Is the natural beauty of the Earth not worthy of admiration? What could ever be greater than that? However," his eyes narrowed, "It seems like prince has his own ideas on poetry. In that case, I would love to hear some of Prince Corco's own compositions. In fact, all the lords here would be delighted."

More with his eyes than his head, Corco looked back at Villca. Not for a second would he believe that the battle-crazy lord would ever be in the mood for poetry. Maybe Villca wanted to end Corco's visit with an awkward moment to make sure the balance between the princes was retained. Still, it would still be the fairest treatment he had received from anyone outside of his own camp so far. So Corco decided that he might as well give it a shot, eventually, maybe.

"'ll have to finish my obligations to the other lords first, but maybe once I'm done. Sure."

"This lord will anitcipate Prince's splendor," Villca said with a contented smile.

One look into the next alcove and Corco hoped for a nuclear winter. Of course Spuria had reserved the central alcove for herself, her brother and her favorite son. Inside the space, his youngest brother arm-wrestled some poor kid to show his might as the surrounding lords faked excitement. Looking at the boisterous scene inside was enough to drive the banquet's food back up his throat, so Corco made the wise decision to skip over his obligations in the central alcove. There was little reason to be polite with lords under firm control of House Ichilia and he wouldn't make any friends even if he went. Since the final, rightmost alcove had been left empty for the night, Corco had only one more hurdle to jump before he could bring the day to a peaceful close. Although he knew better, he hoped Amautu hadn't prepared any nasty surprises. Any attacks so far had only been warning shots, at best. Corco could feel that the worst was yet to come.

“Prince Corco, your dislike for Prince Pacha is understandable, but Prince Amautu has seemed quite reasonable so far, has he not? Could he not be a valuable ally?” Even though the voice of Primus had come from behind his back, the prince could almost see the curiosity on his new attendant's face.

“I don't like Amautu any more than I like Pacha. At least Pacha I can somewhat read. Greedy and needy, it only takes two words to describe him. Amautu seems more dangerous to me,” Corco answered without turning back.

“Dangerous? However, the scholars of Chutwa simply advocate an ordered society, do they not?”

The words were so egregious they made Corco stop in his tracks. Alarmed that his student might take the wrong path, he turned around and reprimanded Primus with a stern look. This was far too important for his ally to misunderstand, so he would have to take the time for an explanation.

“I've looked into the stuff the scholars preach, when I was younger, forced by my teachers. I reread some of it yesterday, just to make sure I got it right. It's not only trash, it's dangerous trash. Don't believe in their nonsense. The goal of the scholars is complete control of our society, nothing less. Anything else is a facade.”

“That's...” Primus looked hesitant. In order to convince the youngster, Corco would have to be more concrete.

“They order society, sure. In their writings, a stable society of peace is the ultimate goal. But to achieve that, they only ever put themselves on top, replacing the former ruling class. From what I can tell, it seems like the rest of their Way is so vague that they get to interpret whatever they want out of their scriptures. You'll probably see later. I doubt we'll get through the evening without any more conflict.”

His attendant warned, Corco turned back towards his goal and walked into Amautu's alcove. If his brother or any of his henchmen would try to spread their crazy cult among the Medala nobles, they would have to deal with him first.