I borrowed the deep blue dress from Orchid again. She owned half a dozen dresses but this was one of only two that fit me very well. The morning was spent getting me clean and my hair tamed. The muses seemed to enjoy this task, or at least they all wanted to help when I asked. Maybe it was from enjoyment, from their shared rituals of hair and companionship that ran through Panther House, or maybe they just liked seeing me up and moving.

I hid Davery's dagger under the skirts of the dress, tying a sheath around my leg with a spare ribbon I'd pocketed from Orchid's huge collection. I vowed to buy her two to replace it. Panther gave surprised me by quietly giving me two thin knives that would tuck into the waistband. They were well made Lolathian steel, similar but less ornamental to her dancing swords. If anyone in that house knew blades, it would be Panther.

I didn't tell the Muses why I was dressing up. I wasn't sure they'd try to stop me, but there was no point in risking it either. And if they told Jexa? He'd make sure he had eyes on me, which I didn't want. No, not for this. Because I could be going to the castle for a number of reasons. Maybe to look into Lord Girault some more, maybe to find the link between the map and Grethan. But not now, right now I needed into that castle to see Rorik.

Soon enough, I was staring at my reflection in the mirror. Borrowed hairpins, a gown that wasn't mine, lips painted and cheeks rosy. I didn't look like a girl from Swamp. I didn't look like me. Maybe, for tonight, that would be a good thing.

"Thank you," I told the muses who had made me presentable. Fussing done with, the muses went back to more typical tasks for their day. Keeping the house tidy, making lunch, practicing their arts. It was the quietest muse, River, who took me aside.

"I don't know what you're getting ready for," she said, a knowing look in those watery blue eyes that nodded to her namesake, "but I'd like to help you."

"I don't know what you mean," I protested.

River was older than me. Quiet, with a childish face, but older. Wiser. She had a familiar look to her that told a long story with plenty of life lessons, and she clearly didn't believe me.

"I won't ask," she said, "but, I will teach you some etiquette. If you're going to dress like that, you need to act the part."

Surprisingly, the shy muse was from a higher merchant family when she renounced her name for Bliss. I never knew that, not all the muses had the same carefree feelings about sharing their past, and River had always been quiet about hers. But it put her in a position to teach me several things that afternoon. A bit about table etiquette, a bit about greetings and posture. Dancing, blessedly, I'd been exposed to quite enough thanks to Panther House and my friendship with Orchid.

The muses were some of the oddest worshipers of the gods. They lived simply, helped the least fortunate in the city, and renounced their family to join in lifelong service. Yet, they focused on grace and beauty, each muse would own up to six or eight dresses at the most. More was seen as excessive but less than say four was seen as too few to honor Bliss. I shook my head at the thought, most in the city didn't own so much but then again the dresses were the most lavish thing they had. The rest of the house was furnished simply and they did their own work. They didn't even keep much money for themselves other than what they needed to live.

By mid-afternoon I found myself thanking the house again, River in particular, and I went on my way. Painted in finery that I would call excessive luxury but would barely slip me into the castle tonight, I had a long walk ahead of me to contemplate my plans.

#

I walked to the castle alone. Alone only in the sense that I didn't know any of the people around me. There was a great number of the nobilty invited to the feast and they were all traveling generally in the same direction now towards the castle. None were coming from Swamp, of course, but as I climbed one of the stairs to High Road, it was blatantly obvious that something was happening in the direction of the castle. Some had horses, many had servants, some walked in groups. I trailed just behind a group of youths as the climb to the castle drew near.

The path was almost at its end, and my heart thundered in my chest. Would I be able to slip inside with this group somehow? Would I have to find another way? But the gates were soon behind us with no one shouting after me, and the horses and carriages were being directed around to the stables while those of us on foot proceeded directly to the grand doors, both open wide and with four castle guards standing careful watch. These were no mongrels from the city streets, these were trained guards of the castle. Likely working directly under Pettypiece, who I assumed was as rigid with his training of the guards as he was with himself.

The young man in the lead of the group I'd followed in announced everyone as Lord Harris, Lord Montavail, and the Garner sisters. I moved to lick my dry lips, nearly forgetting the lip paints until the last second. I took a breath, trying to calm my nerves and appear as calm as the rest of the group. The three girls before me nodded at their family name, and I nodded right behind them. The girls didn't see this, but the guard did as his eyes flitted from them to me with no suspicion. The moment the group moved to go inside, I rushed to follow as light on my feet as I could. The moment we were safely inside the stone walls, I slipped away.

The smell of the feast wafted through the halls. No one food overpowered the others, it was just the accumulation of pastry, meat, and roasted vegetables. Herbs, spices and seasoned logs in the fireplaces crackled through the air. The feast hall was relatively close to the entrance of the castle and I was able to get there from memory. Nothing like making a map in secret to commit a place to memory. Not that it was hard to find as most of the nobles were being led by palace staff to the feast. I didn't want to risk being asked for my name or being announced, so I slipped into the hall following an older couple.

The hall was huge, and decorated with so many candles you'd think it was daytime. Even the most subtle chill of autumn that crept in from outside would be chased away from the heat of the candles alone, but there were plenty of fireplaces in the hall as well. I'm sure they kept the castle heated and the social spaces like the feast hall warm enough to use even through the dead of winter. And there, at the back of the room the royals were seated at a long table, facing outward to better see the whole of the room. Or for the room to see them, I wasn't sure which. Rorik sat at the end, looking every bit as bored about it as he had the last time I saw him on a high holiday.

There would be no talking to him now, I'd just have to bide my time until he left the table. I looked around for a table that could be for ladies in the queen's care. I found it eventually on the far left side of the room, near a crackling fireplace as wide as my room at the Snoring Dragon. I approached it confidently, wanting to act as though I belonged there so I wouldn't raise suspicion.

"Salysta!" Selenie waived from her seat near the middle of the table. There was a vacant spot next to her, and my stomach sank. The table was filled with high society young women. How long could I hold out without being discovered? But, I'd already been singled out, so I sat down and drew the immediate attention of other girls at the table.

"Ladies, this is Salysta, she's the one I told you about." Selenie beamed at her and chatter broke out along the table. Were all highborn girls so . . . giggly?

"I've not seen you around the palace. Have you been here long?" One dainty maiden with large doe eyes fanned herself with a delicate pink silk hand-fan. It hid half of her face, and I decided that must be the point as I couldn't read her expression fully with it in the way.

"I don't live in the castle, but I do walk here from Lights district," I told them, not lying exactly. "My first visit here was about one month ago."

"Where are your family holdings?" A girl with a snobbish expression on her face asked the pointed question I'd feared the most.

I had to decide on a course of action, glad to have thought over my options on the way to the castle. "No land holdings I'm afraid." 

It would sound as though my family had been granted a low title in appreciation for something to the crown. Those situations usually ended up with no property other than maybe a house in the city or quarters in the castle, if you were especially lucky. To pry more than that would be outright disrespectful to me. Not that it would stop a haughty noble with a high title, but I could hope for a bit of grace and maybe they would drop the subject.

"Don't be rude, Aulrie." The doe eyed girl came to my rescue for now, but the girl called Aulrie narrowed her eyes in my direction.

"I do apologize Salysta, you see I wanted to know if we were neighbors at all since the Janlyn's lands are so very many." Aulrie turned her nose up as she threw the Janlyn name at the table. That explained it a bit, the Janlyns were everywhere in Unays, the family was huge and reputably full of themselves. There was also a Janlyn on the council, and I wondered how closely related he was to this girl.

I was saved from further conversation when a gong quieted the room. No herald announced the family this time as they were already seated and deep in conversation as the guests arrived. Instead, he just announced the food to come out and introduced Prince Braeton to do the Harvest blessing. 

Looking at the table of royals, I could really see the family resemblance. Rorik looked enough like Brateon, and the royal auburn hair was nearly identical, but the way they carried themselves couldn't be more different. Rorik managed to keep a much more subtle air about him, though still refined in the way only the nobility could achieve. Braeton on the other hand was a shining star in the room, soaking up so much attention. It was like night and day, but I found myself staring at Rorik despite the rest of the room who had eyes on Braeton. Was this prince worth dying over? I would probably never be able to think that, but if Davery did die for his involvement, I would swear on everything I am to see it through.

My brother would not die in vain.

Much like the Hunts Festival, the crown prince wasn't one for long speeches and gave a simple thanks to Harvest and a mention to Rain as was traditional. Rain gave the plants life, she grew the seeds gave them water and sunshine. Once the plants grew Harvest took over and made the gathered parts, fruits, vegetables, grains, grow big and hearty. They were divine sisters and were usually mentioned at each others' honored holidays.

The food poured into the room as he finished. Servants brought trays to every table. Soups and breads came out first, bread being a special favorite item of Harvest and would be served with each course. The table where I sat at grew quiet and sat up straight, allowing trays and plates to be placed. I did my best to imitate their posture but my back ached quickly. Finally, the servants were done and the table around me delicately began to pick up utensils and spread out napkins on laps. Luckily, River had covered which utensil was for which course in the lessons earlier that afternoon and I was confident in my choice of tool in which to shovel this delicious meal in my gullet. Much as I wanted to, there was no actual shoveling involved though as I kept slow, steady pace with Selenie next to me. It took a lot of will not to lift the bowl of creamy squash soup and drink from it as I would normally have done at the Snoring Dragon. Between the food and the music that began playing as the course was served, there was thankfully little conversation for me to navigate, and after a while the plates were cleared and the first course was finished.

The second course would be served in a bell or so. The Harvest feast was spread out from late afternoon to well past midnight. A large amount of food would be served over the course of the night and there would be breaks in between for socializing and perhaps a bit of dancing. I had no intention of dancing, but the socializing was a perfect excuse to try and talk to the prince.

The first ladies around me got up from their own seats before I excused myself.  I didn't want to look eager to leave them but I really only joined Selenie for the first course as a good excuse to be there.

Selenie nodded my way and turned back to her conversation. Aulrie had already excused herself and wandered off. I moved my sights to the head table, and my target. The royal table was nearly full, but Prince Rorik and Princess Olianne managed to escape the swarm of nobles in conversation with the rest of the royals.

I noticed that a lot of the people mingling were wandering in and out of the feast hall, so I left it as well. The ballroom had light music playing and a few danced though more would be waltzing between courses later in the evening. I didn't see Rorik there so I left it too. Next I went to a small courtyard that supplied cool fresh air to those who had a little too much wine. There were a few nobles there and a couple I spotted behind a rosebush doing a lot more than simply dancing. I guess even the nobility are immune to the calls of lust. But Rorik wasn't here either, and I didn't want to see the couple get any further, so I left. Finally, I followed one servant carrying a goblet and decanter on a whim. If nothing else, it would take me to a new part of the castle to regroup and consider my options.

It turned out to be a good move, because he went to the library I had first met Rorik in. It was on the same floor as the feast hall and was probably close enough to get back before the next wave of food but secluded enough for a prince who was known for his dislike of social gathering.

I tucked myself behind a book case and waited for the servant to leave. The books were well taken care of, not a speck of dust to be found as I looked around. Few noises could be heard in the old library, the carpets on the floor and the thick curtains eating up much of the excess sounds of footsteps, and the lack of people made for a serene and secretive place. Cautiously making my way through the shelves, I wound through the maze of books until I heard the clink of glass. A whisper of a sigh caught my ear, and if I was right, I recognized the owner of that sigh.

I stepped around the corner and curtsied low before the prince, something River had practiced with me. He spotted me as he lowered the decanter from his goblet. His eyebrow shot up in question, but he took a slow drink as he let his eyes fall over me. Taking his time, he was truly testing the limits of my muscles with the deep and unfamiliar curtsey. 

    "Well well well, Ladymaid Salysta. Please, stand. What brings you to us on Harvest night?" hee teased.

I straightened, holding nothing back as I looked into the prince's face. Bold as it was for a noble lady, I was nothing. I came from mud and strife, not the plush halls of this palace. My throat tightened as I looked on the figure before me. Regal, I had to admit, Rorik was at ease as he sat in a chair grander than anything I'd ever touched before, drinking some kind of liquor that likely outclassed even the finest bottles at the Dragon, avoiding a feast in the nearby hall that would otherwise feed an entire district of the city. This prince, the one who had last spoken to my brother alive before he came back to his death. This prince, this crafty bastard . . . 

He saw something in my expression, and by the grace of the gods he let me have my moment of outlandish disrespect in his presence. His face, the ever-present mask of confidence, slipped to concern. "Sit down, please."