The ballroom of the Weisslilien’s oozed of splendour. The most expensive imported curtains draped the windows. Along the walls hung priceless images produced by the best and brightest painters of the continent. An entire set of dark-grain wood furniture, one of the most expensive types of wood, grown only on imperial-chartered ground, had been placed along the upper balcony overlooking the main floor. The red carpets were rolled out, and a complex chandelier made from Andarit crystal lit kept the room lit by its countless reflective surfaces. As part of the western side of the mansion, arrivals were handled through the main mansion entrance.

“Attention good lords and ladies, now arrives: Count Frandel, accompanied by his son Himar, and Lady Frandel.” The announcer introduced the new arrivals and returned to his spot by the doorway.

About two dozen people had already arrived. Some were couples, accompanied by their first-born sons and an occasional daughter for the sake of appearance. Others were the higher lords and ladies whom mostly served as administrators and clerks and therefore did not waste time with feelings.

Serinell passionately hated every second of it all. She had immediately sought out a secluded spot above the main ballroom floor and had not moved an inch since. Tiumri stood beside her quietly. For the occasion, it was customary that even the slaves and servants were given clothes of some expense to highlight the fair and generous treatment they received. Tiumri’s otherwise worn and ragged servant’s dress had been replaced with a more expensive, and less ragged version.

“Can we leave now?” She asked Tiumri, whom very subtly shook her head.

“How about we go change clothes? Then you can pose as me, and I do not have to be here? You even know how to dance.”

The same response.

“Fine… But you will stay with me until it is over.”

“Yes young mistress, that is my duty.” Tiumri lowered her head in submission.

One of the other servants came up the stairs and whispered into Tiumri’s ear.

“Young mistress, your father has arrived… With your mother.” Tiumri announced with a deep sense of dread in her voice.

“Nooo… Like this could not get any worse!” Serinell groaned. She despised her mother, even more so than her father. Where her father would remind her through physical abuse of her insignificance, her mother always managed to get under her skin.

“And now.” The announcer began, shortly followed by a trumpet fanfare. “The hosts of this evening’s festivities, His noble grace, Lord Weisslilien, accompanied by Lady Weisslilien!” A round of applause resounded around the room as Serinell’s father and mother made their entry. Her father was wearing an embellished nobleman’s garb, and her mother followed suit in an equally opulent dress.

“Hear me!” Her father began. “Before we begin the festivities of dance, excellent food and idle chatter, my dear wife wishes to make an announcement!”

“Welcome friends, rivals and intrigue makers alike!” Her mother’s opening sentence drew a round of laughter from the listeners.

“I have many slaves.” She began. “Indeed, we all do! Through countless hours spent toiling ceaselessly for the benefit of the Empire and naturally, you my dear friends… I have come up with what I will call a manipulation collar!” She held aloft a circular object, that sparked menacingly, made from a metal Serinell could not recall having seen before.

“A great murmur erupted in the crowd.

“This collar will supress any, and I mean any rebellious thoughts your slaves may carry! May I perhaps have a test subject? Lord Garen, surely you will meet my request? I heard your slaves recently tried to orchestrate your downfall? Is it not why your arm is broken?”

The man named Garen nodded and roughly shoved forth a lean, bruised demon boy with his good arm.

“Aye! Go right ahead!”

A pair of guards stepped forth and roughly grabbed the terrified boy by his arms. Despite his struggle, his malnourished body could not shake itself loose from the guards’ iron grip. The whole room watched in silent anticipation as Serinell’s mother clapped the collar around his neck.

The boy let out a shrill cry of excruciating pain, and his struggle became more erratic. The collar began to glow strongly, and soon, the boy went limp.

“Is he dead?” Lord Garen asked. “Good riddance.”

“Not at all. Watch. Release the boy.”

The guards let go and the boy crashed to the floor. He soon stood upright while lazily swinging back and forth.

“Kneel.” Serinell’s mother said, and the boy immediately dropped to his knees, to resounding applause from the onlookers. “Strike me.” The next order was given, but the boy merely stood himself up.

“This collar is linked to the person who last held it and put it on its wearer. Therefore, only the owner may issue orders, and believe me, it can be anything. You may give a collar bound slave any order, and they will obey it without question.”

The loud applause mixed in with approving comments. Serinell’s mother removed the collar from the boy, and held it aloft.

“It is still in a testing stage, but if it is produced in quantity, we can all sleep soundly, without fear of our own servants turning on us!”

On the upper floor, Serinell was looking on with disgust plainly visible on her face. She had occasionally snuck a glance behind her and noticed that Tiumri was white as snow, and hard pressed to maintain her composure.

“Hi sis.” Serinell heard a familiar voice and turned around to find her second older brother standing idly next to Tiumri. Her brother too was dressed for the occasion, and appeared equally uncomfortable.

“Big brother… When did you get here?” She asked, as her brother slumped down in the chair next to her.

“Just earlier… I guess you’ve heard the news?”

She nodded in response.

“Listen… I shouldn’t even be talking to you… But things are happening, and you are part of them. Do you see that guy down there? That bearded one who’s admiring the Duchess of Ela’s bum? That’s your future husband.”

Serinell had to bite her lip hard in order not to scream. While her apparent husband appeared a typically average man in height, he was easily twenty years her senior and wore the most disgusting of snooty expressions.

“How do you know?” She asked.

“That’s not important… What’s important is that later in the evening, you two will be publicly wedded… Right here in this hall…”

Her stomach turned upside down, and the spreading feeling of disgust flipped over twice and became acidic as it churned around.

“You have to escape.” Her brother whispered. “I, haven’t been there for you, but this one time, I’ll do what I should as your brother, and tell you to leave… My arranged marriage has been nothing but a political play chip.” He sighed and revealed his hand empty, without the gold ring that would usually sit upon his finger.

“But it is too late… I cannot escape anymore.”

“Her brother stood up abruptly and left in a hurry. She watched him leave and noticed a small slip of paper drop to the floor behind him. She immediately picked it up and read its contents:

‘Head over to the second-floor, eastern corridor. A rope is hidden behind the curtains, use it to climb down. Avoid the perimeter guards and make your way to the small clearing where we used to play when we were younger. A horse will be waiting there for you… Good luck little sister. I left you some coins and a couple of letters of introduction to the biggest guilds. Leave the empire soon. And maybe someday we’ll meet again under happier circumstances. Your brother. Daristan.’

Serinell put the slip to a nearby candle and burned it. She then stood up and motioned for Tiumri to follow her. They left through the door, but the guards outside stopped them.

“My apologies Lady Serinell, but we have clear instructions that you may not leave.” The guard brusquely placed himself in front of her.

“I am feeling sick… I must have eaten some bad food…” She clutched her stomach, and the guard’s resolve faltered.

“Even so, you must…”

“No good, I must vomit…” She interrupted, and blocked her mouth with her hand while making some convincing gulping sounds as the guards’ faces visibly paled.

“Let us pass, the young mistress is clearly not feeling well! It would ruin the family reputation for her to vomit in public!” Tiumri joined in with a forceful plea, and the guard finally relented and let them pass. They hurried down the corridor as quickly as they could.

Following the directions, they soon arrived on the second floor of the east wing. The ongoing ball meant that almost all the staff and guards were busy maintaining watch on the event. A few scattered guards maintained the patrol outside, their bright torches highlighting them against the dark forest background.

They began searching the nearby curtains and soon found a coil of taut rope.

“I wish this was the first floor…” Serinell mumbled while seizing the chance as the closest guard rounded the mansion corner.

“We would have been spotted on our way here… This is better, but certainly riskier.”

“How can you be so calm? My heart is pounding like it is the end.”

“Sorry young mistress… It’s just that I am alert… The heart-pounding usually comes later.” Tiumri took hold of her dress and forcefully tore a deep gash into the centre, and instructed Serinell to do the same.

“It will help you move Serinell… We should also get rid of our pumps once we are clear.”

Serinell nodded while watching as Tiumri was first out of the window, and climbed down with relative ease. She then followed her down. The risk of falling kept her thoughts focused on holding onto the rope, and with great care, she managed to lower herself down to the ground.

They quickly pulled off their pumps and began running for the forest edge. The well-trimmed grass between their toes soon gave way to the typical pine clad, stinging feeling of the wild forest.

“Wait, we’re going that way.” Serinell pointed down along the edge of the forest.

They headed a little deeper into the dark forest, soon after, they could hear some muffled shouts and the clattering of armoured boots running. Soon the sounds of alarm were drowned out by the thickly grown trees as they followed a small path leading deeper into the forest.

“Down there… It has really been a long time. Me and my brother used to escape out here whenever mother or father would have a fight. We could feel safe here and have fun… We used to bring food and other things out here, and bathe in the river in that direction…” Serinell smiled, remembering the happy memory. As they entered the clearing, they spotted the saddled horse bound to a tree. Serinell mounted up while Tiumri freed the horse and then joined her in the saddle.

“Sorry boy… But you’ll have to carry two people… Will that be okay?” She patted the horse, whom neighed with some disdain.

They continued along the small forest path in relative silence. Tiumri kept looking over her shoulder with worry.

“We’ll be alright, if my brother is good for anything, it’s confusion… In two days, we’ll get to the border.”

“I know Serinell, but I’m worried. I don’t even know what to do with my freedom.”

“Find someone special, settle down and get a new name, I think that would suit you well.”

“Really? But that’s impossible.”

“No, some nations around the empire turn a blind eye to demons settling in… You may have to prove yourself a lot, and maybe forever, but you’ll be safe, and you can build a life for yourself.” She then listed some of the more open-minded countries and states, from a book she had read long ago.

Tiumri fell silent while imagining the possibilities. “I’ll change my name to Kalisina.”

“I’ll just go with Serin. It’ll be a little bit spiteful to my family, and because you used it when I was a child.”

“I admit, I had trouble pronouncing your name back then…”

“Eh, you’ve still not got it quite right.”

“What?”

The two rode on through the night, sharing their hopes and wishes for the future. Through the silence of the forest, the half-moon hanging high above, leading them forward.