"So that's how it is." Ramon says as he finishes adjusting his tuxedo, "Southmarsh was granted to grandfather on the condition that we became a "proper" noble family."

"Entailment." I grunt, pulling the lever by the wall to activate that moving metal platform that connects the tower's floors to each other, "The royal family would not have allowed a former bandit to clean his hands so easily."

"Not so loud." Ramon shushes me as he glances about the deserted corridor, "Grandfather's, uh, former profession is a little sensitive. Anyway, Grandfather was given three generations to ennoble his family."

"That makes you and Richard the last generation." I click my tongue as both of us step on to the platform, "Someone has been leaving things to the last minute."

"Its not like we had a choice." Ramon sulks as I pull the lever to get the platform moving downward, "I don't know if you've noticed Mac, but the Dasars aren't the most prestigious of families."

"Surely not!" I laugh, not being able to hold back giggles, "What could the cause be? Random thugs strolling about the estate? An attempt to kidnap a bride for the youngest son?"

"Laugh it up." my friend harrumphs, "Its a real problem though. The demon wars are over, so we can't earn merit by dispatching soldiers. Southmarsh isn't wealthy enough to make big contributions to the royal court either. So that leaves -"

"Marrying into high nobility." I conclude, "Yeah, your family really had its work cut out for it. No good family would want to marry their daughters to this House. No offence."

"If I told you that I'm offended, would you stop needling me about this?" Ramon rolls his eyes in good natured frustration.

"No." I chuckle, "I'm not charging for my service. Entertaining me is the least you can do."

"There's room and board provided, Mac." Ramon flicks my forehead, "So don't make it sound like we're treating you like a pauper. How's the uniform by the way?"

I check the butler's outfit that the Dasars had provided me with. Its completely red, just like the clothes the battle maids sport. High quality too, the silk literally kisses my skin. I would have preferred my battle jacket out of sheer practicality, but Ramon immediately dismissed that suggestion. I was supposed to be escorting him to a formal ball, not heading into a warzone. Have to admit, the butler uniform looks pretty sharp and goes well with the borrowed dueling sword I have hanging off my hip. Again, I wanted a proper longsword, but Ramon overruled me, his sense of aesthetics protesting vehemently.

The room Ramon provided me with was also pretty good, he had the good grace of housing me on the same floor he was staying on and not with the other servants. As long as Ramon covered my upkeep, I was inclined to waive my professional fee for serving as his bodyguard. Especially after the madness he went through with me in Springvale, not to mention I was hiding from the Stabber here as well.

"The clothes aren't too bad." I click my heels together and pull my shoulders back, "Master."

"What are you doing now?" Ramon shakes his head ruefully.

"Getting into character." I nod sagaciously, "I did study etiquette at the Academy y'know. A magic knight has got to have breeding, he's not a common thug."

"Then at least pay attention to your master's instructions." Ramon smirks as he pulls platform's lever, "Forgot which floor the ballroom is on already?"

"There're just so many." I grumble as we disembark. I settle in behind Ramon, walking slightly to his left, my back ramrod straight and pace even. A swift motion straightens the white gloves I'm wearing, removing any creases.

"Wow." Ramon comments as he glances at me, "You weren't joking. Its like you're a completely different person now."

"Clothes and bearing make the man, master." I intone solemnly, "And I daresay you do look rather dashing yourself."

"I do, don't I?" Ramon grins as we approach the double doors of the ballroom, where a pair of ushers stand ready, "Let's get the party started."

The ushers swing the doors open and we are greeted by a large crowd of people milling about, chatting and drinking. Everyone's in evening wear and looking, or at least making the effort to look wealthy. Ramon's father had called over all the movers and shakers in Southmarsh for the celebration of the youngest son's return. The ballroom is a large rectangular space, with a second floor connected by staircase. And as I scan the surroundings, I see a lean elderly man standing on the second floor observing the proceedings silently while sipping a brandy.

"That your father?" I point with my chin in the old man's direction.

"Yep." Ramon confirms, "How did you guess? Family resemblance from my handsome face?"

"Not quite." I demur. Its true that both father and son share the same features and like Ramon, the old man has groomed his silver hair into a ponytail. But the clincher for me are the battle maids surrounding him. No one else other than the master of the manor would warrant so much security.

"Ay Lil Ramy's finally here!" a boisterous shout interrupts my musing as Richard pushes his way through the crowd, a trail of flashily dressed women trailing behind him. The fat man's ruddy face is already flushed, someone's started drinking early.

"Is it wise for Master's brother to showing his face here?" I delicately ask Ramon, "After the 'incident' in Deshawn City?"

"Its fine! Its fine!" Richard answers instead, his bulk straining against the seams of his expensive clothes, "I did nothing wrong in Deshawn City after all."

I shoot Ramon a dubious look and my friend thankfully takes up the thread.

"You see, Amanda ditched me by herself." Ramon says with an uncomfortable expression on his face, "Her parents had not actually cancelled the engagement yet."

"Ah." I nod, understanding beginning to dawn.

"And when can a woman go against the wishes of her family?" Richard sniggers unpleasantly, "I was just trying to get my lil bro's wife back, that's all."

"What if Amanda shows up here, in Southmarsh?" I ask, recalling the Sage's warning.

The Dasars had stirred up a hornet's nest and were still so cavalier about things. It was almost as if they did not mind being accomplices in their own downfall. The Sage said the Dasar family's story is known to him. So could everyone here be a reincarnation, playing the same roles, walking toward the same predestined outcome? Just like I was meant to be a reincarnation of the original Mac Nair?

"Let her!" Richard scoffs, "Its not like we're in the wrong here!"

"Her parents might cancel the engagement bro." Ramon points out despondently.

"Weren't you listening to what our old man said?" Richard sneers, the scent of alcohol drifting from his mouth, "Amanda's parents are broke. High born blood but no money behind it. That's why she's got to work as a royal magic knight in the first place. They're not going to break the engagement Ramy, not with the money the old man promised them on the line."

"Don't talk so loud!" Ramon shushes in embarrassment, "You're making it sound like the old man bought me a wife."

"Ah, come on!" Richard claps Ramon hard on the back, causing my friend to sputter, "You knew Amanda had no choice in the matter, so that's why you kept playing around. Be honest now!"

"Uh, maybe?" Ramon chokes out as he plays uncomfortably with his hair.

"I know what ails you, Lil Ramy." Richard frowns in an exaggerated fashion, "You actually miss Amanda."

Ramon sucks his lips, but remains silent. Richard takes this as his cue to continue with whatever he's saying.

"You miss a woman." Richard begins to lecture with faux seriousness, "Do you know what the cure to missing a woman is?"

Ramon shakes his head morosely, looking remarkably helpless. Is this the power of an older brother?

"Another woman!" Richard cheers and pushes one of the women following him into Ramon's arms. My friend reacts quickly, grabbing the floozy by the waist as she wriggles against him.

"Lil Ramy looks like he needs more medicine." Richard smiles and sends another woman over, "A double dose then little brother! For your early recovery!"

This time Ramon laughs uproariously, getting into the mood. He grins at me, waggling his eyebrows, all thoughts of Amanda forgotten.

"Did your etiquette classes teach you anything about this, Mac?" Ramon quips with high spirits.

"Its called a flower in each arm, master." I respond completely deadpan, "The first stance in the ménage a trois style."

"Ménage a what?" Ramon furrows his brow quizzically.

"He means screwing two women at once, Ramy." Richard explains with a leer.

"Oh that." Ramon purses his lips, "I thought that was spit roasting."

"Spit roasting is multiple men having sex with the same woman, master." I sigh. When I woke up this morning I never thought I would be explaining sex techniques to the client and his brother. Life certainly takes you to strange places.

"Ah, well. I've done both." Ramon shrugs easily, "Just didn't understand the fancy terms you used, Mac."

"Master, as I said earlier while we were getting dressed," I try to get my friend to focus on the real issue at hand, "the Sage has gotten into contact and -"

The sound of a piano playing cuts me off and is joined by the strings of a violin. Casting my third person view about, I spot a pair of servants playing the instruments, starting up a surprisingly upbeat duet.

"Dance!" Richard grins, leading his pair of women to the center of the ballroom, "C'mon Ramy!"

"Later." Ramon whispers to me as pulls his own floozies along, "You said we still have time to prepare, right?"

"Sure." I agree reluctantly. Not as if I can stop Ramon from doing what he wants anyway. I place my palm by my torso and perform a formal bow, seeing my employer and his brother off.

The party gets into full swing, with couples spinning about on the ballroom floor, their gowns making it look like a pack of peacocks thrashing against each other. At a lonely corner of the room, I see a family seated by one of the tables, presided over by a bewhiskered middle aged man. No one bothers drinking with the men or asking the women for a dance. There's an unspoken rule that no one in the ballroom is supposed to talk to this group.

And little wonder why. The Dasar patriarch's glare is burning a hole in the bewhiskered man's forehead. A trio of soldiers in blue uniforms and matching berets stand about the family, shifting uneasily. It doesn't take a genius to work out that this lot are the 'real' rulers of Southmarsh and the Dasars invited them to the ball as a show of power. The bewhiskered man's eyes abruptly grow hard, but he keeps staring forward at nothing in particular, unwilling to lock gazes with anyone. One of the soldiers bends over and whispers something into the man's ear. The bewhiskered man merely nods and the soldier begins to leave the ballroom.

Huh. Suspicious. And what's more, I recognize that soldier. He's Morgan, the guy Richard was happily abusing on our way into Southmarsh. The ballroom has plenty of security already, so Ramon wouldn't be in any danger if I wasn't around for a few moments. Making up my mind, I leave the ballroom as well, tailing Morgan as discreetly as I can.

And Morgan makes a turn down the corridor, entering the washroom. Guess he just wanted to take a piss.

Or maybe he wants to plant a trap in there? Damn, the Sage's warning is making me paranoid. If I don't check it out, I would never be at peace with myself. I crack the washroom door open to sneak a peek at what Morgan's doing.

The man's scratching himself something fierce and begins taking off his clothes. As the shirt comes off, I notice that Morgan's skin is raw from all the scratching and as I had assumed earlier, he's suffering from a very bad rash that covers the entire chest and part of his arms as well.

Poor guy, but its not anything I need to worry myself with.

Then my eyes notice something glinting in the places where Morgan's skin has been broken. Those aren't regular scratch wounds. There's something just underneath his skin.

"Damn." I exclaim before trying to muffle my voice.

Its scales. Morgan's not suffering from a rash. His skin is sloughing away.

Like a snake.