“Oh, relax, everything is fine,” Abby said, her smile speaking to exactly how much fun she was having with my discomfort.

Sitting across from us in the mansion’s fancy carriage, Snowy smiled, unable to hide her humor at my expense. Tugging again at the single long sleeve and its attached glove, I tried to find a comfortable way to sit with Abby hanging off my bare arm. That Abby was wearing a dress with far more cleavage showing, and that she kept pressing herself against my arm, made it all the more uncomfortable. The tunic was a deep black overcoat, the right full-length sleeve the same rich darkness as the tunic with an attached dyed leather glove. The tunic cut down to my left side from the right shoulder and clearly showed the white, short-sleeved silk undershirt. I had been comfortable with the plain white undershirt, but Abby had insisted on the silk alternative, and Snowy agreed. My apprentice was draped in a white dress that accentuated her short stature and slight figure. Her dress’s small accents were light lines of yellow thread at the plunging neckline. Combined with her deep green eye shadow, it emphasized her overly large eyes and the patterned rings that proclaimed her bloodline.

Despite the young woman nearly pressing herself into my bare arm as a distraction, it was Snowy’s outfit that kept drawing my eye. Dark black tunic with the opposite sleeve pattern of my own with edged fur made all the more aggressive with a scarlet red undershirt. My clothing was cut to show off my lean muscles while Snowy’s blatantly outlined her feminine curves. Her top’s sharp lines curved into deep black pants that hugged her lower half while the ensemble emphasized her muscles. Without color or ink, her pale face was deeply contrasted with the darker coloring of her outfit. The only other spots of color she wore was the steel sword mounted on her side. It wasn’t her favorite weapon, but it was still a sword larger than was acceptable for a ball.

I was still uncomfortable with my outfit, but it was nothing compared to Snowy and her father’s plan. Their thinking was relatively straightforward. If the opposition wanted Snowy sad and off-balance, she would remain poised and controlled. It wasn’t so much a plan as a basic strategy, a baseline defense until the Baron was able to determine who was pulling strings behind the scene. This was one of the first gatherings of the season, reserved for the young nobles of the kingdom, so it was the perfect time to cause a problem without the Baron to defuse the situation. It was also the ideal time for their plan to start.

That’s why when Snowy exited the Wagon, she waited for me to follow, and then both women bracketed me and walked through the hall, one on each arm. Abby played her part, looking around at everything with wide blinking eyes, her mouth slightly opening in well-feigned awe. I managed to keep from snickering at her act, but only barely. On my other side, Snowy glanced around as we entered the ballroom, and we waited to be announced. Gently she placed her other hand on my arm possessively. Notably, she turned to glare at Abby as she did it. To really sell the act, I gently pulled my arm from Abby’s. I patted Alexis’s hand as it rested on my arm, though I continued to distractedly look to the room as I did so. It took every bit of [Acting] to ignore Snowy and turn back to my apprentice.

While our act would fool some, we were in a room full of nobles, and I was sure some would have their social Skills focused on our interaction. Still, it cost little to perform our little play.

Stepping to the landing when the party in front of us moved down, we waited for the announcer.

“Alexis Verstrom, heir-apparent by right of martial Skill to Baron Verstrom,” said the servant in the classically styled uniform, his voice coming out deep and with careful enunciation.

Alexis looked to the room, then stepped forward and away from us slightly. This was a signal from the announcer that we were a party but that Alexis was due special honors for herself as a noble and heir-apparent.

“Joshua Still, noble-of-honor, Master Skill Trainer and his Apprentice, Abigail of the late House, Valstanderson,” the announcer said to slight tittering, then questioning looks.

I had expected the humor at my expense. ‘Noble-of-honor’ was a euphemism that said everything that it wasn’t. It was someone with either money or a Skill, raised into the low-nobility by the decree of a higher noble. This was often done to ensure a high noble’s flunky wouldn’t be accosted by guards for minor criminal acts. What made it all the more insulting to the nobles was that I was raised by a Baron disfavored by the established nobility. Worse, the Baron was only raised due to his martial Skill and the whim of a disfavored King. At least, insulting to those of noble lines which extended for hundreds of generations.

The real question to those plotting against us had to be my apprentice. That she belonged to a fallen House was an exciting twist and would make them desperate to find out more. I was sure that her lineage had not been included when describing her worth. Her description had likely started with her appearance and ended with her unique Fount Skill, reduced to her looks and her financial value, and no more. She might be useful to lure out conspirators with her playing the part of overwhelmed air-head and bed warmer.

Stepping down the stairs, we rejoined Alexis and descended into the crowd of young men and women. The men were wearing more daring versions of the single sleeve outfit, some going so far as to go without undershirts or adding long tassels to the long sleeve. One bold young man was trimmed in gold and had silvery nails attached to the long-sleeved glove. The women were dressed in more modest dresses of lighter colors causing Alexis to stand out more than her height and muscles would alone. She was like a stalking tigress in a field of peacocks and pigeons. I played my part, staring at the bodices on display, all while ignoring my two companions. Stopping at the side of the room, we retrieved wine flutes from one of the well-appointed servants stationed to serve the delicacies on display.

Abby gave me a quick hug, her performance as a besotted apprentice flawless. Then she quickly strode away to approach a group of noblemen who had been eyeing her as we passed through the crowd. If I didn’t know my apprentice, I would have been worried about her. As it was, I worried more about the men. Her mother had been training her to control and manipulate men from a young age, and while she hadn’t been able to earn those Skills while young, she hadn’t ignored her lessons either. Abby had shown herself to be capable and willing to push through her training in a way that had deeply impressed me. I had initially agreed to be her master simply to spite the Baron, but she turned out to be a capable young woman.

Seeing Abby perform her social butterfly act, Alexis sniffed then grabbed my arm tighter. She wasn’t a natural actress but given a few prompts, she was a fair bit better than I expected.

None of this was likely to fool the nobles for long, and the strategy was weak at best. It would likely fall through within the first few get-togethers. But, it should throw off our enemies enough that we can at least find out who exactly our enemies were. There were far too many possibilities. They could be working together or on their own or even at cross purposes. We simply didn’t know.

Alexis pulled me across the room, gently shifting me through the crowd until we stood before a young man and his sycophants. We had quickly stopped being of interest to the gathered nobles as others had arrived. Still, this group had continued to watch us. They had been quietly talking, their eyes drifting our way as we approached, but then they went silent. Stopping in front of the men, I bowed, then stepped to the side and indicated Alexis.

“Let me introduce, Alexis Verstrom, and I am Joshua Still, who may I have the honor of addressing?” I asked, staring directly at our pre-selected target, using [Acting] to channel as much arrogance into my voice as possible.

To my surprise, the young man smiled at us, his voice coming out in a pleasant tenor.

“I am Vindel Mard,” he said, then chuckled, “disgraced third son of Baron Mard.”

I wasn’t sure where to go from there. Who proudly announces that he is a disgrace? We’d known who he was, of course. His father, Baron Mard, was the top suspect for all of our troubles after his attack on the Barony. Still, the northern tribesmen’s invitation showed that Baron Mard was unlikely to be the only enemy we had among the nobles. Vindel Mard was known as a chaser of women and was disliked by his family. Rumor had it that he had quarreled with his father and was sent to the capital with a small stipend, barely enough to survive as a noble. The young man had instead used it to make a modest fortune of his own through shrewd trade. The thought had been to let him live as a disgraced noble until he came crawling back to the family. However, his ability to manage money had left him at odds with his father while friendly with the Guilds.

Alexis ignored the strange introduction. Smiling at the young man’s jest, she looked over those in front of her before speaking.

“What do you know of your father’s treason?” she demanded, her words leaving a sudden shocked silence.

This was another small part of the plan for the evening. Alexis would pass through like a war hammer, driving through the gathered young nobles’ cultural armor, and we would see how they reacted. She had the reputation of being an ignorant barbarian brute, and she was playing it up, using that reputation like a weapon. That she could likely take any of the gathered men in a duel also helped play to this act. These noble fops had to spread their training to culture, history, art, dance, horsemanship, business, and yes, warfare. On the other hand, Alexis was dedicated to the art of war, and her inheritance depended on it. She could be as rude as she liked, and they would mostly eat the insult.

Personally, I would instead prefer to avoid a fight if I could, even if I felt that I could handle myself. Luckily, I had no such reputation to protect, so while I was a target for insult, I could refuse a duel as I wished. We would need to be far more circumspect during gatherings of the older nobility - men who had the right to demand a champion for duels.

While this wasn’t our typical battlefield, we had certain advantages as social outcasts that gave us an edge.

Despite the words, the man simply chuckled, his white teeth flashing through his tanned skin. His outfit was a deep blue of a more conservative cut, and I noticed that the surrounding men were of a like mind. It was interesting to see the different styles and how the gathered youths seemed to group themselves by type.

“Surely, you must know? My father dislikes me, and the feeling is mutual. I still carry his name, but only since it offers me access to high society. If I could reject it and remain, I would,” He said while smirking to his gathered friends, “If he has acted against the kingdom, then I wish you well proving his folly. If you kill enough of my kin, I might just inherit!”

This last response caused a strained chuckle from the men surrounding Vindel, except for one. The silent man shot a glare at both Alexis and Vindel, his teeth visibly grinding. The glaring young man was Vindel’s older brother, Brian, second in line to the Barony, in the capital to ensure his brother did not cause a scandal. I could well understand the group’s discomfort. It was one thing to be friends with the dashing rebel noble, another entirely to cause strife between his estranged House and your own. Shoulder-checking his brother, Brian stormed out, his passing leaving a wave of gossip in his wake.

I remained silent, watching the interactions, trying to see who looked to whom and who signaled for action. My job was mostly to be a different type of lure, which left me free to study the young nobles in their natural habitat. My part in tonight’s play would come later. Vindel seemed entirely uncaring about Alexis’s words. Still, the look he gave his brother, a look of contempt and anger, made it clear how he was enjoying his father’s name being dragged through the mud. There were a few more exchanges, but now that his brother was gone, Vindel seemed less interested in the conversation. Before we could further make a bother of ourselves, one of the servants at the front of the room struck a bell.

Stepping to the top of the landing was a man in an older style dinner jacket - the only elder noble here. Though, given that he looked to be roughly the same age as those around him, you could be forgiven thinking otherwise.

“I present to you, your host for the evening, Earl of Mirsdeget and Master Magician.”