Mai, Ishad, and Broken had all been given rooms inside the Palace, all next to each other, down some corridor on the third floor. While here too, the halls were dark and foreboding, the guest chambers were lush and inviting, themed of course, in white, the Asan Paril color.

The rooms were arranged next to each other, with Mai’s being first left to right, followed by Ishad’s followed by Broken’s.

Ishad was in his room when Mai was escorted to the area, and so was Broken, and so she sat in her room. Soon, however, a servant entered, and told her that it would soon be time for the dinner feast. She was provided with noble clothes, for the first time in months, and Mai eagerly bathed in a private bathroom, and changed into a sparkling white dress. Jewels were provided, and she eagerly put on a necklace, and earrings, as well.

Mai then left her room, for the hall, where Broken stood. He wore provided clothing as well, but it was in his normal color, black, in sharp contrast to Mai’s white.

“Ishad will be served in his room tonight,” said Broken. “He’s not coming downstairs, and he’s very tired.”

Mai looked at the closed door to Ishad’s room in concern. “Did you see him?” she asked Broken. “Is he all right?”

“I saw him briefly,” said Broken, “but servants chased me out. Ishad looked tired, but otherwise fine.”

Mai shoot him a look, to remind him whose fault it was.

Broken did not respond with any sort of retort. Instead, he said, “You look beautiful, Mai.”

The compliment took her completely by surprise. It was the last thing she had expected from Broken, Broken, who, only a few days ago, had told her that she was, more or less, worthless, and not pretty enough to matter.

“Thank you,” said Mai, carefully. “You look rather handsome, yourself.”

And Broken did, indeed. He wore traditional noble clothing, and his hair had been combed, and his face had been washed. And what was underneath did not take much encouragement to take out. As Broken was blessed with so many other positive physical attributes, it was no surprise to Mai that he looked good. His thick, dark hair, freshly cut, traveled down to the back of his neck, and his gray eyes added mystery. For a moment, as she truly looked, the sight took Mai’s breath away.

And this was despite everything she knew of Broken.

“You look good too,” she told him.

Broken looked at her carefully for a moment, then flashed her a charming smile, in a way that almost seemed ironic.

“What are we waiting for?” she asked, looking around the hallway. Everyone else seemed to have their own business.

“Attendants are going to come to escort us to one of the dining halls,” said Broken. “For now, we wait.”

And they did not have to wait long after that announcement. Mai spotted a pair of official looking attendants heading to them.

“Why were you so rude to Lord Ashat?” she asked.

“I’ll answer when there is more time,” said Broken. “Shush.”

And then the attendants were there. One was male, and one was female, but they both wore similar, mostly white uniforms.

“We are here to take you to the First Dining Hall,” said the male.

And so, the attendants began their duties, and began to escort Mai and Broken through the halls. They proceeded across the causeway to the grand staircase, then down a flight. Mai did not go anywhere near the edge as they passed over the second causeway.

The second hall floors were framed with a lighter stain of wood than the third, and that added to the atmosphere. The halls here were also more crowded.

The attendants led them through a set of open double doors, and then, suddenly, they were inside the First Dining Hall.

To proceed from the entryway to the room down to the tables, there was a grand, sweeping staircase. Broken and Mai were lead down.

In the first Dining Hall, there were three tables placed vertically parallel. At the head of the center one, at the far end, was Tur is Ashat.

Mai and Broken were seated midway though the middle table, next to each other.

And then the attendants walked away.

Mai looked around. There were nobles here. Real nobles, a class she had not seen much off in some time.

Discreetly looking around, Mai saw that all the lords and ladies in their immediate vicinity were ones she did not know. Further up the table, however, she saw Hiro, very noticeably without Selri on his arm. Near him, though, she thought she saw Savel, and looked away.

All around servants began to serve the first course, bowls of elegantly steamed and flavored rice.

When the platters were served, Tur is Ashat, at the head of the table, took the first bite, and then, there was the peculiar sound of around three hundred mouths quietly eating.

Mai joined in, and a beat later, so did Broken. During the meal, Mai managed to avoid any real conversation. Broken eagerly spoke, but managed to talk about nothing important.

The meal continued on for a second course, and then desserts, and then, as those were being finished, it seemed the entertainment would start.

And so it did. A bard hopped up onto the center table, and moved to the middle, right by where Mai was seated.

The bard was dressed gaudily, and he carried a stringed instrument, which he began to strum deep notes with.

“My name is Aren Faled,” said the bard. “I come here, from the lands of House Dunesis, to tell you the ballad of the calm after the storm.”

There were murmurings, and, from some of the ladies, extra long glances. Mai was not among them.

“You see,” said the bard, “while Asan Paril remains a bastion of stability, other lands of the Empire, other cities, they do not have things quite as good. There is death, there is destruction, and there is desolation.”

There was more murmuring, and Mai found herself nodding to the bard’s words.

“But I do not come here to tell of horrors,” said the bard. “I come here to tell of a legend. The Legend of the Chosen One. The Legend of the Anointed.” He continued to strum. “Whenever an emperor dies under mysterious circumstances, a dynasty falls,” said Aren Faled. “But what rises to take that dynasty’s place? Another, of course. The dynastic cycle has gone on for thousands and thousands of years. But there is a legend, most of you already know, about how a new dynasty rises up after an old one dies. There is a legend, that states that a Chosen One will be Anointed by the snakes, the Nari.” Here there was an appreciative laugh from most, as they thought they were too old for bedtime stories. But the bard did not appear dissuaded.

“The Anointed One, it is said,” he spoke, “can be anyone, from anywhere. He can be a commoner. But he is chosen because of his wisdom, because of his strength. It is said no man can best him.”

Somehow, Mai found herself looking at Broken. However, the bard’s next statement took away the possibility of Mai’s foolish idea being true.

“He must be younger than twenty.”

Broken was older then that, it was quite clear. Case closed.

The bard continued. “This man is chosen, nay, this man is destined to begin a new dynasty. But what he must do to reach that goal is what I sing of, tonight.”

There was clapping, and when the clapping died off, Aren Faled began.

The Chosen can be a farmer, a writer a poet nay

He can be a soldier or a dancer, or even this bard you see today

The Chosen has a path set out before his wake

There are tasks that he must do before the throne he can take

I say that he is someone; I say that he is real

I say that, he is Anointed, and to no king does he kneel

He’s destined to end the darkness; he’s destined to take his throne

But the path, the path he travels, he must travel all alone

No one understands what he is, nor what he must do

No one understands that he fights to keep us all too

The Chosen wishes none to meet the end of time, of life

He wants the world to be happy, without chaos or strife

But there are some that do not wish him to bring unity to the land

There are villains, dark stalkers, demons, false kings and-

All these want him to stumble; all these want him not to be real

But the truth is, that he exists now, tangible to touch and feel

I say that he is someone; I say that he is real

I say that, he is Anointed, and to no king does he kneel

He’s destined to end the darkness; he’s destined to take his throne

But the path, the path he travels, he must travel all alone

The world before him’s broken; it’s a world that he must mend

Before he can get his work done, many to his cause he must bend

For they all think that he is no one, they all think he is fake

A charlatan they will say, for their loved ones into battle, into battle he will take

There will be, there will be some setbacks, down his dusty bumpy road

For the Chosen, the Anointed, he carries a heavy load

The villains wish to stop him, they use lies and deceit

To, to defeat them is not an easy feat

I say that he is someone; I say that he is real

I say that he is Anointed, and to no king does he kneel

He’s destined to end the darkness; he’s destined to take his throne

But the path, the path he travels, he must travel all alone

However, all is not hopeless, indeed, all is good

The Chosen, puts the darkness, in a chest and slams the hood

For he is, he is Anointed, and no one can bring him down

He is destined to find a lover, and put her in a gem-laced gown

And then when all is said, all is said and done

The Chosen will take his throne, the Empire he will run

But there is, there is a caveat, a caveat to this tale

One day his descendants won’t rule wisely, and the end they’ll fail

I say that he is someone; I say that he is real

I say that he is Anointed, and to no king does he kneel

He’s destined to end the darkness; he’s destined to take his throne

But the path, the path he travels, he must travel all alone

I say that he is someone; I say that he is real

I say that he is Anointed, and to no king does he kneel

He’s destined to end the darkness; he’s destined to take his throne

But the path, the path he travels, he must travel all alone

For the last stanza, the ballad had been trailing off, and then suddenly, it was over. There was an emptiness in the room.

Mai looked over to Broken. He looked quite sad, quite mournful. Broken was not the only one in the room who looked that way; many of the ladies were dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs, and many of the men looked shaken.

Indeed, Mai noticed that she was one of the few who was unaffected. It seemed odd to her, indeed, that Broken was more emotional at the moment than she was.

A round of clapping began, and it seemed to Mai as if Broken had begun it.

Aren Faled bowed, and bowed again, careful in his elaborate gestures to avoid knocking over any of the plates on the table.

“Thank you, kind lords and ladies,” he spoke. “Your appreciation brings joy to my heart. The last time my story occurred was eleven hundred years ago. Now, perhaps, the story will occur again.” That last sentence was completely sober, not jovial.

Before anyone could respond, the bard hopped off the table, and disappeared out a side door.

There was another round of clapping, and then, as servants began to clear off the tables, a troupe of acrobats came into view, and began to somersault over the tables, and juggle.

Mai saw people at the tables begin to leave, and it felt rather late, so Mai assumed the policy was that dinner goers could just leave when they felt like it.

As the First Dining Hall began to empty, Mai got up, and walked over to where Tur is Ashat sat, at the head of the center table.

Broken got up, and silently trailed her, but Mai let that be.

At the head of the table, Tur is Ashat was flanked by two guards, and was talking to a group of nobles, including one who Mai thought might be Savel.

However, as soon as Tur is Ashat saw Mai coming over, he waved the group of nobles away. When Mai came into speaking distance, Tur gestured for her to sit in the closest chair at the table, now unoccupied. Mai did so.

Broken was also offered a chair, but he silently refused by shaking his head, instead standing in the background.

“I noticed you did not see fit to announce me as a guest,” said Mai.

“I thought it was wise not to,” said Tur. “There is no reason to hide your identity as princess, but I thought it best if such information circulated gradually.”

“As opposed to being shouted out by an announcer,” said Mai. “You are wise, Lord Ashat.”

“Am I now?” said Tur. As she and Tur is Ashat descended into light conversation, Mai noticed that Broken had attracted attention of his own.

A pair of moderately attractive noblewomen were engaging him in conversation, and from the smiles of their faces, and the sound of an occasional laugh, it seemed as if Broken was managing to make both comfortable at the same time.

Mai also noticed another fact. Even as Broken spoke to the noblewomen, he maintained his close distance to Mai, and every few moments, gave her a discrete glance, which the noblewomen failed to notice.

As Mai’s conversation with Lord Ashat began to wind down, Broken shed his female companions, quite quickly, and had them walking away, still smiling. Broken then came over to where Mai and Tur is Ashat sat.

Immediately, Tur is Ashat made the statement Mai had been about to. “It seems you got your new friends rather quickly,” he said.

“I merely told them what they wanted to hear,” said Broken.

“That rarely works, my friend,” said Tur is Ashat. “How did you do it?”

“I didn’t tell them what they thought the wanted to hear,” said Broken. “I told them what they really wanted to hear. They both have due cause to believe they will have a chance to speak with me again.”

“Ah,” said Tur. His voice darkened. “Any particular reason you hovered over myself and the Princess here?”

“Of course,” said Broken. “You have bodyguards.”

“Of course,” said Tur is Ashat.

“I am hers.”

“Who do you think is going to attack her here?” asked Tur. “The Palace is heavily guarded, and as you said, I have a pair of bodyguards with me now. They would protect her.”

“I was only being prepared,” said Broken.

“Prepared for what?”

Mai didn’t like the way the conversation was going. Tur was not an aggressive man, but Broken was slowly dragging out every inch Tur possessed of that trait. Mai could imagine several scenarios with what had happened up to now as a jumping off point, and none of them were pleasant. Most involved some sort of brawl between Broken and Tur.

“Please,” said Mai, as she saw both men staring hard at each other. “It’s getting late. Don’t do something you would regret later.” She spoke to both of them. Then, directly to Broken, she said, “Let’s go back to our apartments.”

Interestingly, Broken backed down quite readily. “As you wish, my lady,” he said. “Come, then.”

Together, they left the First Dining Hall. There were no attendants to guide them now, and on her own, Mai might have gotten lost, but Broken knew the way. When they were back at that lonely third floor corridor, with its three adjacent rooms, Broken beckoned her to come inside his own.

Mai did so.

The room inside was more or less a direct analogue of hers, with a gold framed bed with white sheets, elegant polished floors, and off to the side, a bathing area, with a tub. There was also a large window, that looked down upon the Palace courtyard. Broken lit a lantern, and then walked over to the window.

As Broken opened the window, he spoke, without turning back to look at Mai. “I suppose you wonder why I was so rude to our gracious host, twice now,” he said.

“Indeed,” Mai responded.

Broken turned back from the now opened window, to look at her. “In a place like this, Mai, it is very easy to turn from the protected, to the entrapped. You do not know Tur is Ashat as well as you would like to think you do.” It was not a question.

“He would never…” said Mai.

“But he might,” said Broken. “I merely wish to remind him that you are not helpless before him. You have me, a man he does not understand.”

It was remarkable how well Broken had summed up what Tur is Ashat had said about him, when Tur had talked to Mai.

“He would never…” said Mai, again. “When you were gone, he confided in me.”

“So, maybe he thinks of you as a friend,” said Broken. “But those more powerful than he could offer him very lucrative deals for you being given into their tender care. I merely wish for him to think of me, and what I might do, before he makes any such deal. There is a fact I think you know, Mai,” said Broken. “A fact that you know, but do not want to accept. Friends change.”

The open window let in the cold, and Mai shivered.