"Dinner is served!"

Chammielle sat with her sisters to her left, and Maestro to her right. She felt like she hadn't spoken with them in ages, but felt put upon to make niceties with her new covert combat instructor. It was as if with her he was on his best behavior, but she was the only one who knew his darker side. It was like having a pet tiger on a golden leash. Simply because the leash was there everyone would assume he was simply a house cat. The fangs and claws remained hidden so long as the gleaming chain was so dazzling. She longed to simply be back home in the garden reading, away from all this.

Silver cloched platters were set before them, and the steaming dishes were uncovered.

Individual stuffed quail, with asparagus and nasturtium blossoms. It smelled divine and a general sound of delight could be heard around the table. It seemed the soup course was being skipped for some reason this evening. Her majesty speared a tiny morsel and popped it into her mouth with relish. The rest of the company followed suit.

"Sir Rochester, I must say it is such good news to have you here longer. How are you enjoying the Pink Palace?"

He seemed light, jolly, and famished with a touch of pandering. So very different from when they'd been alone in the piano room and a chill had gone down her spine. Chammielle almost lost her unease watching him.

"Your majesty, it is an absolute honor and demonstrably a well worthwhile occasion to be here. This week being the eve of discovering the Crown Prince's bride. And more than that, a discovery of such raw talent. She is an amusing and remarkable thing, is she not?"

Chammielle felt like she must be blushing, and tried to smile politely. He did know how to flatter.

"She truly is. Have you had the occasion to meet with her sisters beside her? They are all darling girls of Kuchen House. And they have said from the beginning how bright their eldest sister is."

"Oh, bright indeed. Such playing without the teachings of a master until now, brilliance incomparable."

Lady Rosenblum and Lady Clarendine were sat far apart, but Chammielle couldn't help but notice the disgruntled expression on Petulia's face as she stabbed the poor deceased bird on her plate as she eyed Gladys. To her credit, the master musician seemed at ease despite nibbling on her own lip and avoiding eye contact with everyone. It seemed Lady Rosenblum felt ill at ease here.

"Yes...I am sorry we will not be hearing you play, Sir Rochester."

He glanced about the table, a bit of redness entering his face at the falsified loss of work.

"Truly, so am I... Who carries about a pitcher of wine like that anyway? Who ordered such an indulgent beverage right before tea with her majesty at the concert? It's unfathomable!"

Everyone else hushed their own conversations if they'd been speaking. The topic of the table had officially changed. The air felt severe and Chammielle did her best to breathe calmly.

"True... Who was the maid carrying such a dark beverage through the hallway like that?"

The Dowager Queen looked about the room as if the culprit were present. Chammielle didn't dare look up to prove her right. It would be like saying off with their head at this point. No one need die for the sake of a few blank pages.

"Lady Kuchen, did you recognize the person or persons who destroyed the book?"

It took everything in her not to appear startled at his question as she met his eyes. They seemed innocent enough but she could feel his intent. He actually wanted her to name names. Here. In front of the Royal family at dinner. Did he even know what that could mean?

Yes. Of course he did. He was testing her. Seeing whether or not she had it in her to out someone and potentially have them banished or worse for their behavior in the palace. He knew who it was, but he wanted her to say it.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"No, I'm afraid not. I was far too focused on the wine and ink running off the pages. I'd still thought they were mine then, so I was very distraught and unthinking."

The Queen tsked at this and she saw it in his eyes as all others turned to her majesty, he had hoped to see her condemn someone. But that was not her nature. She corrected and admonished privately. She would never be the reason for someone's execution. Not that nobility would actually be punished so severely for destroying a book.

"I will have to ask the guards to make a formal investigation into this."

"Of course, your majesty!"

Gladys looked like she would faint at their words, and Chammielle weighed her options.

If she tried to stop this now it would look like she actually did know who it was and was trying to protect them. But if she said nothing and allowed for an investigation to go forth at this time both Lady Rosenblum and Lady Clarendine would be discovered. Then again, there were other ways to circumvent their demise...

Sir Rochester or whatever his name really was glanced at her as if waiting to see if she would say something. She merely nodded and let things continue. For now.

His eyes held a glint and she felt that chill like cold water being poured down her back once again. He smirked and turned away from her, surveying the table. What was he up to?

"My dear lady, haven't we met before?"

Lady Aconia looked to his outstretched hand towards her and pinched her brows together, thinking.

"I don't believe so, Sir Rochester."

"No? Not even in Spraguenleist? About last year, in the autumn. I do believe I saw you there."

The name of the small city seemed to set Ammorettallia on edge, and she shook her head in a short no.

"I can't say I've ever been there. You must have me mistaken for someone else."

"A lady from the Aconia family...no, I do not believe so. Unless you have a sister as memorable as yourself?"

They knew each other. Somehow. And he was letting her know it.

"Ah, well if you don't recall that is fine... Your majesty, I'm afraid your guard have already been sent on a mission to find the culprit."

He had turned to the Queen and she seemed only mildly surprised. Did she know who he truly was? Or at least suspect?

"Truly, Sir Rochester?"

She held her breath. Gladys and Petulia looked quietly mortified. They hadn't been discovered yet to her knowledge. Why would he ask her outright if he was just going to reveal them himself?

Unless...

"You may bring her in."

Two royal guards escorted a woman, possibly in her mid thirties, with chains about her hands. She looked distressed, and Chammielle nearly stood. A hand went to her arm and she shivered at his grip. She had a part to play.

"This is the maid who destroyed your works, Sir Rochester? Are you sure?"

He smiled coolly and patted her arm even as he held it. Chammielle felt sick. He'd materialized a scapegoat. A mere maid would surely be punished far more severely than a nobleman's daughter.

"I was going to ask you that, Lady Kuchen. Do you recognize her?"

She turned and felt a light pinch through her glove. It was obvious she needed to say yes. But how could she? How could she sentence someone innocent of the crime being presented? She couldn't. She couldn't trust this man.

As she turned back to him, unsure of what to do, she caught sight of those dark silver blue eyes.

William was watching her.

His hands were steepled and he was looking over them. He knew what was going on. He wouldn't allow an innocent person to be condemned. She could trust him. And since the false Sir Rochester was here as his guest, she could trust the situation she found herself in would play out as it needed to.

She had to trust this despicable man.

"I...well, now that I see her I do recognize her..."

It was a lie. She'd never seen this maid before. She glanced back towards Belladonna who stood by the door and saw the slightest smirk pick up the side of her lip. Chammielle turned once more and caught William's eye. He nodded, agreeing with her choice. She'd made the right decision.

But she felt horrid.

The woman began to sob and beg. It felt like a knife to her breast. The Queen let her hand flit through the air to dismiss them.

"Guards, take her to the dungeons. We shall look into this matter later. Let us not spoil this excellent dinner with bad company."

The woman's screams could be heard outside of the closed doors, and Chammielle could hardly look away from them. She'd done this. She'd sentenced this woman to her fate. And what had she done? She didn't know her crimes. How could she judge someone without knowing their offense? She'd lied.

Belladonna grabbed her eye with a cough and she saw it in her look.

She needed to be done with this. This guilt was not for her. Right now she needed to be in the presence of the Queen with her head held high. A woman might very well lose all her livelihood or worse at her words, but she needed to seem impartial.

Chammielle took a breath.

Then turned back to the meal. She inclined her head to her majesty, and didn't dare put a smile on her face. And even though her stomach churned with a feeling of nausea, she cut her meat and set it to her lips. They wouldn't see her anguish. She wouldn't show them any weakness.

...

The dinner was over and her sisters had had a little too much wine. Fortunately they simply became sleepy and were escorted back to their rooms by their maids and two knights due to the nature of the evening. Protection was necessary it seemed. A knight was stationed with each of the ladies as they went to their rooms. Except for her. It seemed Belladonna was all she ever needed.

In the silence of the hall, she whispered to her.

"Belladonna, who was that?"

"Have no fear, my lady. I know her to be a spy. What else they discover of her will be revealed in due time."

She sucked in a breath. The feeling of guilt she'd kept at bay during dinner contorting within her.

"Will she die?"

"Nonsense. She's far too valuable to be killed."

A small sigh escaped her and she felt the maid's motherly hand at her shoulder.

"Is that what worried you, my lady? Don't fret. You haven't sentenced anyone to death."

"Then why..."

She heard footsteps and fell silent. Belladonna came close to her and whispered even more quietly.

"Pretend like you know everything."

There wasn't time to ask questions.

"All this time, how could I have missed it?"

Ammorettallia was approaching them. She was alone. Not even her maid was with her. Her voice rang out in the silence but they were far away from anyone else. Chammielle didn't think she would dirty her own hands and attack her, but if she did she felt at least confident enough in her own two hands Alfrina had taught to knock someone unconscious.

"Missed what, dear Ammorettallia?"

"You dare even speak my name with those infernal lips! You devious bastard! All this time, you've been the one stopping my plans."

She smiled at her. She didn't feel like smiling, but she needed to. Let her think she'd discovered her true colors. Let her believe she was some sort of mastermind. She let a slight hint of benevolence into her voice.

"Took you long enough. I was growing tired of those false smiles you give everyone. All the while you were scheming and interrupting the pleasantries. Tut tut, such shamelessness."

She glanced to Belladonna behind her and Chammielle could only guess she was weighing how much to say in front of a maid. Considering they were together, she wondered why she even bothered.

"She is my right hand, don't mince your words now to spare her."

Ammorettallia glared at her.

"Petulant fools. If the Prince had merely shown who he was fondest of from the beginning I could have simply made them look bad. But now you've forced my hand. I will win the prince's choice. It's all about perception. Do you really think he'd choose any of your sisters when someone connected to them so blatantly plays the victim before the Queen? You're pathetic!"

She waved her off. Lady Aconia was exuding a certain level of dark intent, but she couldn't show she was affected. It was time to bluff.

"Play? From the moment you noticed me you've had your eye to see to my ruin. Don't think I couldn't see through your ruse with Lady Clarendine. A victim I am...to them. You really weren't expecting Gladys to be so excellent though, were you?"

Her face cooled to placidity from her previous outrage, and Chammielle could see it. She'd been right. It was a stretch, but she'd guessed correctly. Ammorettallia was manipulating Petulia. And Petulia was bullying Gladys to do things for her. The joke really was on them.

"Yes, but she'll be taken care of."

She narrowed her own eyes at the hateful thing before her. Whatever surprise she'd felt at first hearing Ammorettallia had been connected with a kidnapping was long gone. She was no lady.

"Oh, I'm afraid not."

Sir Rochester came dancing in behind Belladonna, tapping on his toes as he bounced from foot to foot. It seemed jolly, but his playfulness had a sinister quality to it. Lady Aconia put a hand to her breast and took a half step back.

"My my, Lady Aconia... I really can't believe you didn't recognize me? So embarrassing. Especially after all that lovely work I did for you, only to be tossed to the royal guard after."

"It is you..."

He held Chammielle's hand and lay a reverent kiss atop her glove. She wanted to cringe but smiled instead. There was a flair for the theater in her after all. He patted her hand, looking proud.

"Your spy is in our grasp now. Lady Rosenblum is safe and sound in her bed. Honestly, poison again? You really must think more originally, or did I teach you nothing?"

Lady Aconia looked afraid. She really did know the Maestro. Better than Chammielle, and yet she couldn't show she was afraid of him. She hid a false smile behind her free hand.

"How did you get out..."

"Child's play, dear. Merely child's play. Clearly you can see I am not my own master any longer. Finally I have a patroness worthy of me."

His smile was ominous and Chammielle tried not to show she felt like crumbling to the floor. This murderer was referring to her. Worthy of him? She felt sick.

"You can't kill. They'll catch you again. It won't be like Leians here. You can't touch me!"

The town sounded familiar. Chammielle couldn't remember where she'd heard it before.

Maestro gritted his teeth, like he was restraining himself. A sneer painted his face morbidly.

"Oh, dear child, I won't kill you. No, nor anyone so long as my patroness bids me not to. Let us say I have been lead to a certain enlightenment by Lady Kuchen, hmm? Bathing the Pink Palace in your blood would be such a waste. No, rest assured, no one you have your eye on will die so long as I am around. Not one secret you have had buried will remain hidden. I will have my revenge on you, Ammorettallia. You will fall before me, and the future Queen of Garten."

Lady Aconia stumbled backwards.

The lesson he'd wanted to teach her. It was all too clear now.

Chammielle looked to him, hiding her surprise with a smile the likes a card game had never seen. Her face was painted in the most regal way she could make it. She thought of all the times her stepmother had told her to think of a cat surveying it's kingdom with a keen eye and seeming disinterest. Her shoulders eased back, her eyes narrowed, and her smile smoothed into a notion of her enemy's demise. She's never thought to do this before. It had never been her place. Only when she was teaching small children to behave had she used something even similar to this. But with the Maestro at her side, she could feel the bloody energy she could convey.

Leians suddenly rang the bells loud and clear in her mind. He wasn't just anybody. He'd massacred an entire town and gotten away with it.

It was a bluff unlike any she'd ever considered. Herself a Queen. No longer a target, but a beacon. And with a watchman at her side to keep the archers at bay.

Aster would be safe now.

Lady Aconia looked horrified. Her lip quivered, and her hands and shoulders shook noticeably. Perhaps it was the notion of her dirty blood being added to the royal line. Perhaps it was the ridiculous notion she was using a mass murderer to attain this goal. Whatever it was, she ran from the place. Her steps echoing down the hall.

"My my, you are a quick study. You understood my little lesson before I even got here."

She turned to him, her face placid. She didn't want to show the fear she felt. Belladonna was there. He was here for a reason. And Alfrina would never do anything to hurt her.

"Intimidation is the key to this game. If you can make your enemy fear you, their next move will be sloppy."

He smiled, and it looked fatherly for once. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

"And here I thought you'd say it was enough to scare her away entirely. But you can see it. She won't give up. Especially not now that she thinks you're some evil mastermind and she'd be saving his poor highness. Tell me, what do you think she will do?"

"She will try to assassinate me."

He tapped his chin, an amused smile on his lips.

"Hmm, perhaps. That would be the direct route. But she's never been so bold before. What makes you think she'll try now?"

She took her hand back and gathered her skirts. They turned all together back towards the direction of her quarters. Maestro held his hands clasped behind his back and whistled quietly.

It didn't matter that she feared him. It didn't matter that he had murdered and lied his way to where he was now. She had his attention. So long as she could keep it he'd behave. She'd use him, like Alfrina needed to use him. For the sake of her family.

"She's desperate. Unless she can take me down, she can't beat you. She knows it's too late for her, but if she can create a mutually assured destruction she'll feel she has the upper hand. You've made me the lynchpin."

He chuckled lightly and it went ahead of them.

"And indeed, you are."