"Do I wish to know why you have a change of clothes?" Tarvakian asked. There was humor in his eyes as if he had known something would be amiss. He knew people well.

"Aye, Master," Kelton said. "Though I wish not to tell you."

"Will the guards come to retrieve you?"

"Nay, Master."

"Then I will leave the reason to you," Tarvakian said. "I am to move to the ballroom. Return to our wagon retrieve the King's gift. Dornic here can show you the property's path." He indicated a young boy wearing the copper who smiled at Kelton.

"Aye, Master," Kelton said, happy that Tarvakian decided to remain naive about the stroll through the sewer. Dornic led the way to the wagon, first through the prep kitchens, then two back halls before a door opened to the outer stables. It was much quicker than his previous tour of the palace.

"You are Kelton?" Dornic asked as Kelton climbed onto the wagon to retrieve the cloth wrapped package. As flat as it was, Kelton was sure it was a picture. Like Alliette's dress, he hadn't seen it yet. The night held many secrets.

"Aye," Kelton replied.

"The one who slew a ship of pirates and killed a hundred viners?"

"Nay," Kelton said. He sat on the edge of the wagon. "I fought some sailors and scared off some viners. And I had help."

"It is not what I heard," Dornic said as if Kelton were mistaken about his past. "Are you not a picture mind."

"I am that, though it hasn't helped me much," Kelton said, tugging at his collar.

"Did you not make the Kuzzle?"

"Aye, and I had help in that as well." Kelton smiled at the boy. "Stories have a way of growing when people desire them to."

"And you have created the cure for the vine," the boy stated emphatically.

"Nay," Kelton said with a chuckle. "I found some people who knew the cure, nothing more."

"You are wrong," Dornic said and reached for the gift. Kelton handed it to him. "There is word that you have taken down two great houses." The boy's voice lowered to a whisper. "Houses where the beasts were treated better than coppers."

"It is true that two houses have fallen," Kelton said as he jumped off the wagon. He retrieved the gift from Dornic. "It was the Prince, in the name of the King, who toppled them. I had little to do with it."

"It is not said that way." Dornic shook his head in disagreement. "Why is hair weaved? Is it not to mark you as Kelton?"

"Nay," Kelton said and gestured for the Dornic to begin leading them back. "It is done by the one I share a room with. It is a normal practice for her people. It makes her happy to do it, so I let it be done." Kelton shrugged. "It keeps the hair out of my eyes."

"How did you get the scar?" Dornic asked as they entered the palace. "I heard it was earned in a battle against demons."

"My own demons, mayhap," Kelton replied cryptically. "Are there many talking of such things?"

"Aye, many."

"Do I look like I can battle demons and topple houses?"

"Aye," the boy said with certainty and didn't elaborate as he led Kelton through the kitchen. Not the answer Kelton was expecting. It was no wonder the King wished him to slow down. The stories were outpacing the truth, even for those who had the truth standing before them.

"But I wear the copper the same as you."

"Aye," Dornic agreed as if the collar didn't matter, then he pointed to a long table set with food. "It is our banquet. You may eat off it when your owner allows or when your tasks carry you through." A silver walked by and lifted an apple of the table and nodded as he passed. The table was heaped with fruit, bread, cheeses, and cooked meat. Much of it cut to facilitate quick bites.

"For us?" Kelton verified. There was so much of it.

"Aye, and drink is over there," Dornic said, indicating a smaller table that held bowls with ladles and many mugs piled on top of each other. "Water and some juices." He scrunched up his face. "No wine as they will have out there."

Kelton took an orange off the table and stuffed it in his pocket.

"We are supposed to eat on this side of the door," Dornic warned.

"Aye," Kelton said, guessing that was the case. "It is a gift for another." He winked at Dornic, who smiled back.

"Your master lies beyond," Dornic said, pointing at a set of doors that presumably opened to the ballroom.

"I thank you for your help, Dornic," Kelton said.

"Better than being led about in circles?" Dornic asked, another smile forming.

"Aye," Kelton nodded, surprised at the boy's knowledge of the Princess's trap. "Do many know?"

"Aye." Dornic laughed as he left on a path that differed from Kelton's.

The ballroom was the largest room Kelton had ever seen. It rivaled the cloth-covered slave auction in size. The floor marbled in white with smoky black tendrils that displayed no seams as if it were fashioned from one monstrous sheet. The walls also sheeted in marbled, though all white. It was the lack of pillars that surprised him the most. He looked up to see an arched ceiling at least twenty men high. Built of massive exposed timbers of a rich brown. They added warmth to the cold marble room.

Stone benches lined three of the walls. Upon which sat every silver and copper who were not on a task. Long tables laden with all manner of food and drink mirrored the bench's shoehorn layout and surrounded the empty floor in the center of the room. Owners and other such dignitaries sat eating and talking. The large chairs at the head of the shoehorn were empty. Seats for the royal family, Kelton assumed.

An adorned entryway rose in front of the open section of tables. Large doors covered in elaborate metallic designs, bordered on each side by two soldiers in magnificent dress unfit for soldiering. Many layers of sashes and tassels crossed their chests, and the swords they wore at their sides looked too fancy to be of much use in battle.

Kelton walked along the outside until he spotted his Master, who sat near where the tables began their turn toward the head. Tarvakian was leaning over an empty chair, having a conversation with another equal to his station. A humorous discussion by the look of the laughter on Tarvakians lips. Kelton held up the gift to catch his eye. Tarvakian waved him forward.

"I thank you, Kelton," Tarvakian said as he relieved Kelton of the package.

"Kelton?" the man Tarvakian was speaking too said. "The picture mind, Kelton?"

"Aye," Tarvakian said. "He serves me this day at the request of the Princess." Kelton bowed his head to the man. The man, who sat a head taller than most at the table smiled at him.

"I speak with the King's Gladfee now and again, gathering law when necessary," the man said. "He has spoken of you and your remarkable mind. Is it true you have the King's Truth in there."

"Aye, Sir," Kelton replied. "It has not faded as of yet."

"A lucky day to be judge," the man said to Tarvakian. "I served not a month ago and recognized no minds beyond the norm." Kelton began to drift away towards the benches when he sensed he was no longer the topic. "Bidding was sparse," the man continued. "The shipmasters were grumbling of low profits and..."

Kelton found a seat between two silvers and sat back to watch the kingdom's power mingle with itself. The high women wore fabulous dresses that billowed out and hid all from waist to toe. When they walked, it looked as if they floated on air. He wondered if they practiced not changing their height with each stride to present themselves more fluid. All colors and patterns were present, some subdued, others flamboyant and designed to attract attention. More than a few had their assets pushed high on their chests, creating a cavern between their breasts. Kelton found it difficult not to view.

Protocol must have demanded compliments, for each woman was told she was beautiful and choice of dress divine. Kelton had no trouble picking out his favorite dresses and the ones he found distasteful. Not all were divine, verifying that the compliments were a formality of greeting at such events. The men weren't so complimented, though some wore trousers and vests as flashy as the women. The Queen was mistaken in her comment about Zello's vest. It fit nicely among the many styles worn. It was even subtle in the presence of the flowery patterns of some.

"That is the signal," the silver woman next Kelton said. He followed her eyes and saw the soldiers unsheath their swords and hold the pommels in front of their faces. The well dressed moved quickly to the back of their seats, Tarvakian rising to stand behind his. All the silvers and the few coppers ran to the benches and took a knee on the marble floor. Most had a small pillow to ease the pain from the marble. Being Kelton's first time, he endured the cold rock.

The doors opened, and a crier wearing the silver entered. He had a gold chain about his robe to hold it closed, jewelry to denote position within the palace no doubt. He moved off to the side of the door and in a booming voice announced the arrival of the Princess.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Alliette Victalica, escorted by Zello Tarvakian of house Tarvakian." There was no doubt why the man had been chosen to be a crier. His voice was clear and commanding. There wasn't a soul within the entire room who hadn't heard. Kelton was sure the echo carried past the kitchens and out into the stables.

Zello and Alliette appeared in the doorway and stifled gasps floated in the room. Her dress was scandalous when compared to what Kelton had seen. Yet - it was not. The beauty of it was undeniable. Half the forest green skirt was cutaway from her right hip, its angle exposing the entire side and all of the bottom of her leg which was covered in blood-red trousers that bonded to her like a second skin. The angle of the cut matched the angles of Zello's vest. His trim, matching her legs. The end of the dress was off the floor, exposing the tips of gloss-red boots. Undoubtedly Sonnerian for the Princess could have entered battle without the hindrance of billowing skirts.

The older women covered their mouths as they bowed, the younger had envy painting their eyes. The men strained to keep their eyes on her as they bent at the waist. Kelton smiled, for he saw Yanda in the design. Feminine yet deadly, he suspected there were compartments for blades sewn within.

The top of Alliette's dress was conservative, clinging tight to her curves, and fully covering the mounds many other women squashed to present openly. Around her neck lay a delicate chain of golden circlets. Her hair done so it hung to one side, mirroring the flow of the dress, and laced with small red flowers. Roused lips and something red dusted her eyelids. Zello was beaming, and Kelton knew it was not for his privileged entrance. It was for the beauty whose hand laid atop his.

"She stirs the pot again," the silvered woman next to Kelton whispered to another on the other side of her. She said it with a smile. "A handsome fellow at her side this time."

"A fine dress," the other sighed. "My young mistress will have me chasing down the maker by the morrow."

"House Tarvakian," Kelton whispered. They both glanced at him. "The maker is house Tarvakian."

"I thank you," the woman said, and they all returned to watching Zello lead Alliette to the head table.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Sandatic Victalica escorting the Lady Barthenian of house Barthenian," the crier announced.

The Prince entered as a warrior and seemingly uninterested in the Lady at his side. She was dressed like the other women in an overflowing gown of blue that allowed her to float along. The Lady Barthenian was all smiles and enjoyed her entrance on the arm of the Prince. Many of the younger women looked on with disdain. Being escorted by the Prince must be in high demand and drew out competition from those who desired it.

"Their Majesties, King Yalin Victalica and the Queen Saverry Filcome Victalica."

The King entered with a confident smile as if he owned the world. The Queen was more stoic, her face rigid, nose in the air and eyes never drifting from forward. Still, she floated along with her King to the head of the table.

"Rise," the King announced. The bows ended, and property stood. The King saw the Queen to her seat then signaled for all to sit as well, though he remained standing. Kelton sat along with all the other property. The silver next to him smiled, then her eyes narrowed as she examined his face. Her attention moved to the King, who began speaking as soon as all were seated.

"The Queen and I thank you for attending," the King said, then looked at his Queen. "And I must thank my Queen for her tireless efforts in preparing this event." It was the first time Kelton saw the Queen smile. "There seems no barrier she cannot break through to perfect an evening for us."

The guests started knocking their fists on the tables, and property stomped their feet. The Queen's smile increased, and she rose briefly to nod for the recognition. The King waited patiently for the ovation to quiet.

"Before we lose ourselves in wine and song, I feel I must clarify the happenings of the past month." The King smiled. "Before rumor clarifies it for me." Laughter filled the room. He raised his hands to secure attention again.

"As you are aware, the houses Mortique and Barrenkee have fallen." Silence filled the room. "The owners of each no longer walk among the living. It was not an action taken lightly, nor one the crown wishes to repeat." A stifled cough was the only other sound in the room. "The two houses conspired to feed the land dreamvine and plotted an attempt on the throne. They meant to disassemble my house by inserting vine through the kitchens, rendering all who I love slaves to the dreams." Audible gasps mixed with whispered calls of disgust for the disgraced houses.

The King raised his hands to gather attention again. "The coup may have succeeded if not for the loyalty of house Tarvakian." He signaled for Tarvakian to rise. Kelton watched as his surprised Master stumbled to his feet. The accolades were loud. The pounding echoed from the tables and doubled with the stomping of feet. Tarvakian, face reddened, nodding to the crowd he began to sit but was stalled by a gesture from his King.

"There are many types of men in this world. We all seek many things; profit, power, justice, ...love." The King looked down at his Queen, and they shared a quick smile. It did not seem sincere. "It is how we order these things that tell the world who we are. Mortique and Barrenkee sought power above all else." The King paused then smiled. "They met the hard hand of justice on the way." Chuckles filled the room.

"Heralic Tarvakian orders things differently." The King indicated Tarvakian seemed uncomfortable with the attention. "He is pleased with the power he holds and seeks profits like the rest of us. But not at the expense of justice." A short pause. "When first I heard of the treachery and its method of discovery, I offered to reward this man by purchasing one of his property, the one who initially identified the threat." The King sighed with a weak smile. "I offered him 10,000 gold." More gasps and wide eyes.

"Heralic Tarvakian refused the offer, and it wasn't a ploy of negotiation. When I asked why he informed me of a vow to that property and his intention to keep it." The King's smile grew, and he looked a Tarvakian directly. "That is the integrity I struggle to obtain in my own life. Heralic did not waste a moment in consideration. His vow to property was worth more to him than profits or pleasing his King." Tarvakian looked like he wanted to hide as the fists once again found table.

"He would not allow me to reward him with profits, so I must curse him," the King continued when it quieted again. Kelton's eyebrows rose. "The fall of house Mortique has left open a hereditary seat on the King's Counsel, and it requires one of integrity. Heralic Tarvakian, I grant you that seat, and curse your family for all time with the responsibilities the chair requires."

Tarvakian placed his hand on the back of his chair to steady himself. The room was awash with pounding and stomping, all in agreement with the King. Tarvakian looked at his son, a silent plea for help but only received Zello's resounding applause against the table. The King was laughing when he walked behind the tables to embrace Tarvakian. It took a long time for all to quiet, and still, the King refused to let Tarvakian sit. Even the Queen's stone face cracked, her hand finding the table like all others. Perhaps the Tarvakian's were no longer a lower house.

"Still, a man is never perfect, and Tarvakian is only a man." The King paused again. Kelton noticed the pauses held power. It magnified the words and made all silently guess the next thing to emerge. "His house has stolen something precious from me." The King's smile belied the true meaning of theft. "I have been informed by my daughter that her heart is now in Zello Travakian's hands and he refuses to release it." The room was stunned, not knowing how to react. Too many surprises for one evening.

"What say you to this, Heralic?" The King asked.

"I...I confess, your Majesty," Tarvakian replied. "It is true; my son has stolen Princess Alliette's heart. But I claim she has his as well." Both Zello and Alliette wore crimson cheeks. Zello grinning, Alliette looking apprehensively between her father and mother.

"Is this true, my daughter?" the King asked.

Alliette looked at her mother, who was a mask of confusion. Without a response from the Queen, Alliette stood with a determination. "It is true, father."

Zello rose and took Alliette's hand in his. "Our hearts are entwined, your Majesty."

The others at the ball were looking between them all, not quite sure if this was a good thing. The King had yet to declare one way or the other.

"Your words on this, my Queen?" the King asked.

The Queen's confusion was apparent. She looked between the King, her daughter, Zello and his father. Whatever was going through her mind solidified when she stood. Her face once again stiff with pride.

"A marriage to a house which sits on the King's Counsel is a strong one," the Queen began. "I see no reason to deny this, my King."

"Should we join our houses, Heralic?" the King asked. Kelton and probably everyone else in the room already knew the answer.

"Aye, your Majesty," Taravakian replied.

"Then, my Queen, it seems your duty never ends. I open the treasure to you, for there is a wedding to be planned." The King's proclamation enlisted the most significant response yet. It echoed off the walls and increased when Zello kissed his future bride. The Queen looked giddy; the idea of planning a wedding without limits seemed to appeal to her.

"That is your house," the silver next to Kelton said.

"Aye, house Tarvakian," Kelton said, his pride painting every word. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was owned. But at that moment, he felt like family. All of the world was happy, or so it seemed.

"You are him," the silver continued. She drew a line down her cheek, from ear to lips, mirroring his scar.

"I am only me," Kelton said with a smile. Property of house Tarvakian and brother to Yanda.

"The one who brought down the houses and..."