"So, I was saying..." said Jazdia with a straight face, the bear was just a few steps away from her when he walked away, wallowing in self-pity. Now the music has played again, with more lively beats than before, either to erase the remaining gloominess or just to pick up where they left off.

"No, it's not that the party is bad." she sighed, feeling the irony. "I am waiting for my salmon!" the elf glanced at the servant earlier, who walked steadily toward her appointed seat with a straight face. "There it is! It's a dinner, so I think I will dine, feel free to join me, you two. Or, you two can dance and leave this little old me enjoying my meal alone..."

Offering them a smile of false disappointment, the elf turned to go.



"Well, I am actually here to find my sister," said Silas awkwardly, the sister in question, the eye-glassed maiden with flowy hair was sitting not far with a blonde young man. "Turns out she is fine by herself. Youngsters these days."

He lets out an uneasy smile as if he was not young-looking himself.

"What about you, Yona? Couldn't help but hear the latest gossip about the Rosenving Heir. I kinda discounted it, but figured that you might want to hear it."



"Well, that was one heck of an outburst." Kirsten shook her head as everything returned to normal again. It was a lie if the scene didn't feel depressingly relatable to her, but she tried to distance herself from it. It was up to her to have a perfect evening. Let the Von Kruber widow wallow in her grief, it didn't concern her.

"Oh? I wasn't forcing myself," answered Kirsten when Gepard offered him his handkerchief and told her to not force herself. The gesture was rather fussy, but Kirsten let it slide, again.

"It was fun, yeah, go idea! I will see you at the next banquet."

[NPC Post]

"...I see. Must be difficult navigating this place with bad eyesight. Which room was yours?" Theo spoke rather awkwardly, not really used to deal with crying children. While he wasn't sure if Cedar was one, the bear certainly was at that age by human standard. Something to keep in mind later.

"Anyway." He coughed to clear his throat. "The Royal Magus, my Mother, have a major project planned. The event at Fanghorn had inadvertently pushed the timetable forward, and you are in a unique position to assist it tremendously. Are you perhaps open for a cooperation, Master Cedar? In return, we can offer much help for you where you're less suited to make a move. Among other things." Like the soiree earlier, for example. Theo kept it unsaid, but the implication was there. "As a gesture of goodwill, we will ensure that Fanghorn and the late baron's family are well-cared for."

The sniffing and weeping bear stopped for a moment, but kept both his hands on the wall. Turned a huge head to face the man next to him, then boggled.

"y.... Yu'd do tha'?" He blinked and shook his head incredulously. "Yu... YU'D DO Tha'?"

the voice was kind of high pitch for cedar, and laced with incredulity. He was not used to people helping him like this. He didn't care a whole lot about what happened to him personally in this instance; he was fully prepared to leave this kingdom in shame, and just return home and never return. Might have even been for the best that way, all things considered.

Then he considered Baker's warning, and double-taked on exactly 'who' it was that was beside him.

It had been one of the 'officials' that had "interviewed" him in the dungeon. Granted, this one had not used a wooden plank like a bat across his back and butt while he was chained up and suspended in the air, but it was still one of his "Interviewers."

".... Uh ain't goin' tuh da dungeon a'gin, is uh?..." he muttered after a somewhat pregnant pause.

The bear's whole debacle ended just like that, with a few sentences from Freddy. Poor guy, but he'll probably need the alone time anyway. Yvonne will offer a few words of affirmation later when they meet again. They will meet again, right? Only reason to stay this long was to see the king later. So... it's probably fine!

"I'll be joining you soon, Sparky!" Yvonne waved the elf away, still carrying some expectations in her chest despite having been rejected once. Then, back to Silas. Eyeing the princely man thoroughly, it's almost too easy to forget that his family practically committed treason. Now, it's probably almost entirely Jonas, and Yvonne herself knew how terrible it was to have a garbage family, but still. The perfect idol in her mind have been tarnished.

"Girls grow up faster than you realize! Do watch out or one day she may flee the estate with nothing but a sword and a little bit of money." Said the mercenary with a slightly embarrased grin, mostly due to the unexpected use of her childhood nickname. "There's always more rumor surrounding me, but pray tell. I'm curious what novelties they've come up with this time."

"It's not anything novel, unfortunately. I heard that your family, after hearing that you are finally acting like a true heir and working to restore the glory of the family, are looking for you." The admiral's eyes flickered to a corner of the hall, the elephant in the room that Yvonne had been studiously ignoring for the past half an hour. "In fact, they're probably talking about it right this moment."

If it's outside, Yvonne may had spat in a decidedly unladylike manner. As it stood, her visage broke into a scowl for a moment before returning into a neutral one. "Bah. They're still trying, aren't they? Even after they ran out of men to send after." Being unkind in her treatment ensured that the next batch ask for higher compensation, and eventually her parents ran out of the means to pay. Serve them right, miserable pricks.

"That aside, some bird tells me that your family is filing a lawsuit to seek compensation for 'years of material and immaterial losses' you caused and demand the court to deduct a portion of your reward." Silas continued smoothly, as if the veins now popping at Yvonne's forehead wasn't visible at all. Oh, she's pissed. Too bad that she couldn't afford to start yet another commotion now... but then the anger evaporated as she giggled and then broke into a slightly deranged cackle that attracted the nearest few people. It died down quickly enough, but not before a few people discreetly distanced themselves.

"The sheer fucking audacity." Every single words were laced with thinly concealed wrath. 'Well, they ain't gonna see a single penny of it. I'll make sure of that. Do you have any other upsetting news, perhaps? Get it out of the way so I can start drinking it away."

[NPC Post]

The bear was as straightforward as the initial assessment said. Which means he's so terribly simple to recruit, but to that end if Theodore can see it then so did anyone else. It's a good thing that he seemed to be the first one to come up with the offer. The mage inwardly uttered some apology to the king, but this was the one individual that the Steinwall wouldn't let go.

"Of course. We are trying to befriend you, because we hope that you will help us in the near future." This was actually rather refreshing. No need for cutthroat negotiation or beating around the bushes, just simple trade. It's rare to find such opportunity outside the family.

"No dungeon visit." Theo smiled wryly, showing both his palms ahead for reassurance. "Details is not yet in the plan, but there'll likely be public speeches and spell demonstration. Maybe talk to a few people. But you'll have enough time to prepare and practice, unlike what went under tonight."

"NO SPEECH'S!" he blurted rather violently, before recovering and stammering.

"uh.. uh dun like bein'... roun' lotsa peoples... It. Uh dun like it." he drawled with a suddenly 'thousand yard look' in his eyes, which then just as suddenly, and somewhat disturbingly refocused on Theodore.

" If'n ya jus' wans' sum silly ol' spells shown off.. 'at's fine an' all, buht... Not fer verruh manuh. .. No moar an' abou' five 'er so.. Ih.. ih hard tuh keeps track o' em.. an' uh dun like bein' stare' at. ... Make muh fur stan' on end... Oh-- AN NO DANCIN'. Ain't NUTTIN' good e'er come a dat dancin' spell... Nuh uh. No Sir! --Onluh cas' it TWICE'T-- an' it dun wrecked a whole dayum taown bot' dayum times!"

He had noticed that some humans seemed to positively revel in being showy, pretentious, and being the center of everyone's attention, but he had found that this was simply not for him. He much preferred the quiet non-visibility of simply going all fours in the woods, and only interacting like a man when he really needed to. True, his thoughts and feelings had not properly been those of a "proper bear" since he was maybe 7 months old, and he most certainly did remember what that felt like, but this was not about trying to delude himself into thinking he was something he was not. He just found that other animals were significantly less judgemental than humans were, and were VASTLY easier to understand. To him, human "thinking" had a lot in common with a howling thunderstorm, or maybe a jumbled up ball of wire, or a knotted up length of rope. Loops, turn-arounds, knots, twists, -and with some people at least-- frayed edges. His own thoughts were a bit twisty, at least compared to a proper bear's, but nowhere near the maddening maze of plots, plans, and 'rationalizations' that lived inside a human. He knew, because before he started having 'man-thoughts' of his own, his dad could touch his mind like he did with his mom-- and he remembered exactly how that felt. He would never forget how that felt. Missed it even. More than once, he had looked into his dad's lonely, single brown eye, and wished he could be wrapped in that all-encompassing warmth and love the man had inside him-- even if there was a raging tempest of maddening thunders and crackles held at the edge.

What he did have inside him, was very much a stripped down version of what he had felt back then. His dad was a storehouse of some very terrible feelings, memories, doubts... but somehow that man kept it at bay.

-- He wished he knew know.

Suddenly, he realized he was in danger of compromising the "official position" he was supposed to be keeping.

"We kin talks' 'bout it, buh not 'here... Dun wunna talk tuh too many peoples righ' naow... already o'er muh limit, so tuh speak... Muh room s'posed tuh be daown one'ah 'dese 'ere halls.. .. Thank Meluhdey say it were ... 'da hun'ers' green room' or summat like at. ..... Beat the fuck outta meh which one it is dough..."

"I think that's all the rumor I can get," Silas Delving shrugged, groaning as if trying hard to show a bit of sympathy. "But still, better to keep a name card of an attorney handy if you want to deal with them. Time's changed, Yona, Kindeance is more... constitutional than ever now. In a weird way."

He did not elaborate further, but it was clearly implied in its early implementation, the law may favor those with power and those who were many. And of course, those who were willing to deal with its lengthy proceedings.

"Well, fortunately, you seemed to have a good lawyer on your team." he smiled, sipping his wine before dropping his voice in a soft murmur. "Or was I wrong? Has this agency been disbanded after... the last incident?"

[NPC Post]

"All understandable, Master Cedar. Nothing is set in stone yet, but you wouldn't need to do anything you dont want." Still placating the bear, but Theodore felt like he's making good progress. He only need to reconvene with Mother later, set a few things rolling... then they can contact Cedar with a better-thought plan on the board.

Reaching into a pocket, Theodore produced an insignia made out of dull-grey metal depiciting the Steinwall's stone tower in front of a backdrop of snow-capped mountains. It's oddly smooth and weightier than expected, little "XVI" inscribed at the back. He double-checked the inscription before offering the token to Cedar, ensuring that he wouldn't mix up the numbering.

"For communication. A paired token exist, each can be used as anchor to direct scrying at. And it should keep you out of most trouble within the kingdom's border, just flash it at the constabulary. While I know you likely wouldn't, please dont abuse the fact." Theo paused, glancing at the direction of the party as if he could sense something. About time, huh? Speak of timing, he's just about finished. "Ah, I see your tail's coming. You can ask them to lead you to your room. Until next time, Master Cedar."

Rubbing the ring with a finger, Theodore stepped to the side of the hallway as a strange sensation coated him... as if the mind tried to say that he's there and he's not at the same time. Yet as he stepped away, a maid turned the corner before promptly ignoring the mage like he didn't exist and beelining straight for the bear sticking out like a sore thumb a couple steps away.

"Sir bear, I've finally found you! The King have said some words in your favor earlier-"

"Well, appreciate the heads up. They must've kept some good contacts if they moved that quickly... but paperwork takes time, and I could be halfway to Anggolindsto by the weekend if I have to. I've avoided them for a decade, I can do it again." Yvonne offered a hint of a smile, surprisingly genuine this time though it didn't last all that long. Then a tidbit she glossed over resurfaced, the mercenary raising an eyebrow in bafflement. "Hold up, attorney? Who the heck?"

A glance to Sparky, now seated at the table, waving and winking back at her. Yvonne's heartbeat somewhat increased from the gesture. She smiled back, barely catching the tail end of whatever Silas said. Cant help it, that's too fucking cute. Still, it cant be her. Cedar... even less likely. Solomon? Didn't felt quite right either. So who?

"Guess you know more about my colleagues than myself, huh?" She wasn't sure what to expect. "Personally I'm strongly considering that lengthy vacation, but who knows. Maybe you'll not see the last of me just yet."

"Well, that was one heck of an outburst." Kirsten shook her head as everything returned to normal again. It was a lie if the scene didn't feel depressingly relatable to her, but she tried to distance herself from it. It was up to her to have a perfect evening. Let the Von Kruber widow wallow in her grief, it didn't concern her.

"Oh? I wasn't forcing myself," answered Kirsten when Gepard offered him his handkerchief and told her to not force herself. The gesture was rather fussy, but Kirsten let it slide, again.

"It was fun, yeah, go idea! I will see you at the next banquet."

"Well that settles it then!" Gepard replied her in excitement.

For changing the topic. Gepard changed the topic about today's capital since his soldiering took his time and he spent on Hdur during recalled and capital's lock down. He was informed by his mother about some news about the capital. But he wanted to know her more, so, he started to speak again.

"So, tell me, what has house delving been up to lately? It's already been a year since I've been back here in the capital, and I know your family is very important. Your brothers have important military and naval positions, so what about you Ms Kirsten, what do you do?" Gepard continued with a gentle smile.

"Well... well, aren't you a curious one, Mister Gepard?" Kirsten stood up from their bench and twirled to face Gepard to present all of her then performed a very formal curtsy.

"Still couldn't guess it? Let us say I am currently being employed in a very domesticated position." She lowered her chin, though the smile remained, it was strained and gloomy.

"Thank you for your time. It has been wonderful, but I guess I must return to my family... wherever they are. Until next time."



"Guess you know more about my colleagues than myself, huh? Personally, I'm strongly considering that lengthy vacation, but who knows. Maybe you'll not see the last of me just yet."

"I'd say it's a good call. If you ask my opinion, I do not believe the threat of war is over yet." Said Silas with an emphasis, before continuing. "On another note, our King surely knows how to pick his agents. What I know about them is not really a praiseworthy achievement. Those in your party are quite renowned people on their right."
He stared at her and smiled charmingly. "You, for example, with that Mad Blade moniker, I am sure if your assignment was not politically complicated in nature, countless aspiring boys would dub that name for their wooden blade or themselves. Another example, that Elven Lady was once an ambassador. Your masked friend is a legendary traveling doctor and that beastman... hmm. I think a lot of people already know who he is now."

A pair of hands with pearl-colored mittens suddenly closed his eyes from behind.

"Is he hitting on you Yonnie? And not even an offer to dance? How outrageous! You will have a lot to answer, Admiral!"

"Here comes the spoilsport! It means my time here is over I guess..." said Silas as he removed one of Kirtsten's hands and squeezed it.

Cedar reached into the front pocket of the elaborate jacket top that had been made for him, and extracted an equally, if not shamelessly, elaborately woven kerchief, then used it to dob his face around his eyes, as the maid came scuttling up to him, huffing and a bit out of breath.

"His Majesty wishes for you to please remain, and to not be so quick to leave over the discourtesy our other guests." she breathed, before leaning against the wall.

"Why are you always getting lost, Mr Cedar? Your room is THE OTHER WAY!"

He snuffed at her. He hated to admit it, but in all honesty, most humans all looked more or less the same to him. Broad pink faces, short, thin, rounded off noses, short, flat jaws, lanky builds... His dad had advised him to NEVER say this to them, saying it would never be accepted in a good or generous light, but with these maid and man-servant types in the castle, all dressing identically, and even doing their hair the same, it was VERY hard to keep track of which one he was talking to. Admittedly, some were a lot more attractive than others; Yvonne, for instance, was a very fine woman. A little short for his liking,--but that probably didn't matter any, since she clearly was not interested in him, judging from her scent-- but muscled in all the right ways, and she carried herself with pride and confidence. A strong, and independent woman that wouldn't accept any bullshit--Very Very attractive, for a human..(and more importantly, she knew how to drink!)... Then there were others, that, while clearly attracted to him (In fact, disgustingly, and insufferably attracted to him)-- like lady Stritzel-- that were not really at all attractive. She was thin, and lanky, with almost no muscle definition, and... was just downright "touchy" (in that she seemed way too eager to touch without permission), and left him feeling like he needed to return to the laundry to scrub with the soap some more to wash the dirtiness off. But generally? Yeah-- they all looked the same.

Thankfully, they didn't all smell the same. He could tell this was Jeanie, the maid that he and Yvonne had convinced to share a drink with them earlier that day. She still had a faint waft of alcohol about her, which made him smile.

"Oh.. uh.. Hiya 'dere miss Jeanie.." he muttered, trying to work up the energy to sound jovial. "Is ih' really da odder way?" he asked pleasantly, only to be given a raised eyebrow and a nod. "It is?-- well, ohkay-- Sorruh 'bout dat..."

She sighed, and shook her head with incredulity. "I know the castle is large Master Cedar, but how you can confuse the WEST wing with the EAST one is just... I don't understand..."

She grabbed his huge paw-like hand gently, leaving him just barely enough time to tuck the weighty metallic object into his waistcoat pocket. "This way-- Past the main hall, and then ..." she rambled, giving directions that were completely meaningless to him. All the hallways looked the same to him; an endless maze of corridors made of stone, polished tile, soft carpeting, paintings, tapestries, and various other expensive decorations, but otherwise completely uniform; with equally spaced and identical looking doors on either side, occasionally interspersed with the less showy doors leading into the servant's corridors. His vision was just fine, more or less; The issue at hand, was that he did not live in a "vision-dominated world." Humans often told stories of getting turned around backward inside of forests or caves, but he never had such problems, as a few discrete scent markings here and there were every bit as good as painting a wall bright red was for a human, and far quicker and easier to accomplish. He himself, and numerous other animals, would just select a random rock or tree, and rub (or.. smear.. ahem.) their scent on it, indicating to others that they lived there, what their health was like, what gender they were, and a host of other things. Essentially, 'street signs' to anyone with a nose that was at least even passably useful. Humans, it seemed to him, were completely oblivious to these. His dad had expressed that he knew "of" them, but confided he could not smell anything of interest, even when right up next to one, other than "Smell a bit like pee, prolly wolf", or "Smell musky. Prolly boar." This had always amused and confounded Cedar, as his dad was otherwise very bush-crafty, and knowledgeable of the creatures that lived there, and how they got along, despite lacking the senses needed to truly participate. Rather than scent, Jack used his vision for nearly everything that his ears could not pick out. Truly, an amazing thing to the bear-man, and amusing to both himself, and to his mother.

Here in this castle though, it would be "Indiscreet" and "Not polite" to mark the halls or walls-- so his dad had told him-- leaving him to do his best to try and memorize the halls by their innate fragrances and scent profiles, but they kept changing in frustrating and unpredictable ways. In the morning, the hall outside his room had a vague scent of blueberry tarts.. and now, in the evening, it had smelled vaguely of ammonia and some fruit he could not really identify. It made no sense to him how the whole corridor could change like that in so short a time.

"..Which then ends up here, at the end of the East Wing, and right outside your door-- SIMPLE as that!"

He just shook his head side to side tiredly. The corridor smelled like.. Gravy. Not very intensely, but.. yes. Beef gravy of some kind. This was just too much. He HAD to ask.

"Uh... Jeanie? Coul' yas tell muh why it is da hall smell like gravey jus naow, bu' smell like somebuddy soak' some kinda fruit inna pot a ammonia afore da parteh?"

She looked at him like he was insane, with the side of her mouth ajar, and raised eyebrows.

"..what?"

"Likes uh said-- an, afore 'at, it smell like bluhberreh tart... Kinda like da tart smell..." he smiled bemusedly. "It change e'ery time uh walks daown ih'.... Git me all confuse' it does. All turn' round backward ih' seems..."

"...It smells like gravy?" she asked with the same confused and incredulous expression.

"Yeah-- Gravey... Beef gravey--- but no' da kin' wit' milk innit.. naw, da kin' ya makes wit' onions and wa'er..."

She boggled, and shook her head as if it were the most bizarre and random question she had been asked all night. "I really couldn't tell you, Master Cedar-- I do not smell any gravy in the corridor-- but I'll take your word for it. They have been making food all day for the party, so maybe you are smelling that from the kitchens.. but..."

"Dey on da odder side o' da buildin', yeah... I knowed." he drawled with a smile.

She looked at him confusedly and somewhat concernedly, then leaned against the doorframe to his room, as if trying very hard to get a grasp on reality. "And you can smell that all the way from here?" she ventured, cautiously.

"Aww naw-- Ain't cookin' gravey daown dere-- ey's cookin' fish! --Da kin' wit da red flesh in'em--.. SALMON! Yeah, 'at's it! Salmon!" he said triumphantly, with a bit of pride and straightness in his posture. "Smell like it frum daown 'atta way, an tuh da lef'-- It da HALLWAY as smells like gravey!"

This latest revelation left her at a complete loss for words, she muttered something seemingly inaudible under her breath, before sucking in, holding it a moment while trying to straighten her face and regain poise and composure. The process took several seconds before she stood fully erect, then turned to face him with absolutely perfect candor-- prim, and proper.

"I am afraid I am at a loss for how it could be that you smell these things in the hallway, Master Cedar, we clean them thoroughly many times daily, but I will make inquiries."

It was his turn to look incredulous and confused at this last revelation. "... Manuh time.. A DAY?" he rumbled. ".. Uh kin see clean'n em e'ery few day 'er so... buh.... Many time A DAY?"

"Oh yes! HAVE TO!" she quipped, with color seeming to bloom in her otherwise uniformly pale cheeks. "Or the DUST starts to gather! SO MUCH DUST!"

He gave her a suspiciously sideways look with a raised eyebrow. "...Dus'?" he drawled. "..Ya's clean all durn day, on accounta a lil' dus'?"

"You have NO IDEA!" she quipped, quickly looking a bit flustered. "It shows on EVERYTHING if you don't keep on top of it! Mistress Sylvia haunts the corridors with a white cotton glove, and if she finds even the slightest hints of it, we get in serious trouble! Regular cleanings, 4 times daily!"

"... Haun'? ... She sum kina ghos' er summat? I would'na .." he started, intending to say that he 'wouldn't put much stock in that kind of thing, excepting for what he's been exposed to the past few days', but she cut him off.

"GODS I WISH!-- No, she's the head maid-- A withered old crone of a woman in a black dress and a white apron. She carries a wooden spoon with her, and whacks us if she feels we aren't working hard enough!"

"She.. HIT yahs?!.." he breathed, incredulous that anyone would treat such nice and helpful people as the castle's staff like that, even feeling a bit protective of them upon hearing this revelation.

"I've... I've said too much.." she stammered, once again struggling to regain her composure. "Please... Stay and enjoy the rest of the evening, Master Cedar, I.. I have duties to attend to..."

"Wuh.. wait wait wait..." he drawled quickly as she tried to pry herself away from him and scurry off like a scared cat. "I's fammish'-- Afore's ya goes, kin ... Kin uh gits soma dat food in muh room? I seen'd 'ere were a table in 'ere...."

She made an exasperated sigh, as if continued conversation with him was making her die a little inside. "... Yes... I suppose... you could..." she muttered.

He clapped his paws together and smiled at her broadly-- (a display that was actually a bit frightening if one did not see the absolute joy that was in the eyes, rather than focusing on the impressively sharp dentition his mouth possessed)-- causing her to recoil in horror, before he quickly slapped a paw over his face in alarm. "oh--- Surruh 'bou' 'at!" came a muffled but mirthful baritone rumble from behind the paw. It was his turn to studiously put on 'proper posture', carefully smoothing his face to make it appear completely safe, and non-hostile, with body language that was alert, but friendly. "uh's is lit'rly starvin', ya un'erstand; --Food at da parteh mighty fine, buh'... Such smaaal servin's... Righ' tortur' ta eats ih'. .. an' den ya gots em' teeneh tineh lil' glasses as force meh ta has tuh reach daown in em with muh tongue, all gross-like-- If'n ya brings meh up sum grub in 'ere, uh can eats all proper like fer a change."

Awareness seemed to dawn on her about just how difficult it really must be for .... something... like him to try and dine in the dining hall, and maintain proper decorum. His needing a lot of food seemed quite apparent in hindsight-- he was ENORMOUS-- as did his apparent need for alternative table-ware-- Just look at his mouth? Of course he had trouble out there...

"I'll.... I'll have something sent up..." she said pensively, then ".. Anything else, Master Cedar?"

He stood there a moment, looking into the empty, and overly large room. The table in there was easily big enough to seat one of him, and four more humans besides, with a large "Stuffed chair" that could seat at least 3 humans sitting side by side comfortably, and number of plush arm chairs in addition to that.

"... Yeah.... Does.. .. When does you folks git ta eat?"

She sighed. It was probably best to tell him the truth.

"We dine after the work is completed, Master Cedar. If there is anything left over from the party, we may have some of it, but for the most part, what Their Highnesses, and their Guests are served, is not what we enjoy here at the castle."

His jaw dropped in shock. This was just... This was just unimaginable for him.

".. .. Le' me git dis straigh'..." he boggled, "Dey makes ya clean 'is 'ere dump FOUR TIME' A DAY, makes ya work an' sweat in 'at steamy arsed room at smell like sumbuddy dun peed on all da walls ta gits da clothes clean, Cook all da food, serve all da dranks, and takes cares ah all da gues's-- an' dey dun e'en le' yas has da good stuff?!"

It was an affront to every concept of moral decency he had, concerning how a guest should approach his or her host. It was UNSPEAKABLE to contemplate that he was being treated in such an elaborately special way, when the people giving that treatment, were treated much less well.

His thoughts dwelled on what the servant's corridors looked like, in stark comparison to the elaborate and decorated halls outside, then made a nasty face.

"Naw! Naw naw naw! 'At won' do a'tall!" he scowled. "Ya goes daown tuh duh kitchens, an' picks out what ya wants, an' brings ih all up 'eres, 'long with muh own dinnar, an' sits an enjoys it wit meh, ya hears?! All a ya, ya all welcome-- Bring meh up a helpin', an' serve ya self while ya at it! Uh insist!"

She looked positively stunned, almost as if he had asked her to join him in the bed-- though, perhaps not quite that scandalous.

"That... That is decidedly improper, Master Cedar." she struggled to get out.

"uh dun care wat dem prissy dandehs think be proper-- Ya'all gittin' a proper meal same as uh is, an uh'd consider it an insul' ifn' ya don'!"

A look of exasperated bewilderment bloomed over her face as if she had just seen him naked and straddling a towel while drying off.

"I.. I'll pass that along..." she croaked.

"Yous does 'at!" he crooned back "Naow hurreh on along-- Dun wan' at ol' ladeh wit' da spoon ta hit ya, does ya?"

She stammered, then made a jerky bow of dismissal, then practically ran away from his room down the corridor. He smiled to himself inwardly, then entered his room, and started straightening it up for guests.

Yvonne shrugged. Of course the threat of war wasn't over. The border skirmish were still something ongoing and actually intensified, last time she checked - even the supposed "marauders" were disguised professional soldiers. Rescuing the prince only returned the political landscape to the baseline level. Probably not even that, for Freddy had to invest time and resource to rescuing young Alec instead of making any headway toward peace. Depend on how things go, everything going south real quick was very much a possible outcome.

"Eh, there's dozens of merc with flattering nicknames running around. I'm just one of them." Like, for one, Ragnar the Red. Real bastard of a man, but one with undeniable combat prowess to back up his fame. "Sparky's an ambassador? Didn't know she's got such history. I've never even heard of Doc Solomon before... guess you really do know them better than myself."

They were suddenly interrupted by Kirsten, Yvonne actually seeing the younger woman coming but show no hint of it until the former successfully ambushed Silas. She grinned at the antics, one that actually fit Kirsten's age instead of worrying about future and family relationship. Unfortunate that she's too insecure to try breaking out of the shell, but then again not everyone can handle that kind of drastic shift.

"I'm not quite sure about it yet Kirsten, he was still at the small-talk phase!" Said Yvonne, callously throwing the admiral under the bus. "Are you stealing him away? I probably should give you two some room to bond then, I'm sure you dont get this occasion all too often."

She walked away, leaving him standing there, perplexed and speechless. His hand started to shake again, this feel was started back when he got home from the war, taking home a cursed for being a soldier. A fun time will temporary suppressed the shake. Perhaps a house of York might do something about her gloomy life.

He promptly signaled for one of the maitre'd, who quickly went into him.

"Good evening. Can you please fetch me an ink and a fine parchment. I need to write a letter right away," he said, immediately departing as fast as he appeared. He observed as Kirsten joined her brother in speaking with one of the king's agent that quite family since Rosenving daughter. After a short while, the manservant returned with a small wooden lap desk and the needed goods on a silver tray, which he placed next Gepard and stood by silently.

"I had no idea such scandalous stories could be true." He wrote, "Please accept my heartfelt apologies, and please enjoy yourself tonight! You would never have to work like that in the York household, and I would love to have you visit sometime, if I have not offended you too greatly... Gepard."

He folded the parchment in half and wrote "Kirsten" in ornate letters on top.

"Deliver this to the Lady Delving, with a nice Champaign." he said, then watched as the servant took the note and and set about his task.

His hand still shakes afterward. He tried to hide it and watched the maitre'd approach the Delving lady.

At Yvonne's words, Kirsten flustered "Wa-What does that even mean?! But yeah, since my brother is so slow-witted, I will be taking him with me and save you the trouble."

At that barb, Silas shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, at least I am approaching it in an appropriate order, unlike a certain someone who dragged a confused boy to dance and then dumped him afterwards."

Now repositioning herself, It was Kirsten's turn to add her own strength to her squeezed palm and clutch his brother's back, causing the admiral to grimace and let her hand go.

"That hurts you know..."

Smiling gleefully Kirsten turned to Yvonne. "He such a piece of work, isn't he?"

"Was that why our admiral is still single and pringle? His charisma doesn't extend to romantic affairs? Who would've thought."

"Maybe?" purred Kirsten.

"Look who's talking." groaned Silas almost bemusingly. "Ladies, you two are on the shelves as well. So we are equal in this misfortune. But I beg to differ, at least men like me have duties to prioritize."

"I'm not even thirty, that's barely an adult! Kirsten dear here have even longer to play around still. You sir, on the other hand..." She let the unsaid words hang in the air, the jab quite clear without having to be heard. "People will start thinking that you've got some issue down there, you know."

"I am afraid that's just your imagination." Silas tilted his head and smirked as if swallowing an urge to brag. It wasn't really a smart jab considering myriads of families and maidens were practically lining up to get his family's favor. The same could also be said for this Rosenving's heir but on a smaller level. So, yeah the banter has become less sensible in every word exchanged.

As if their pride were at stake.

"If you say so, Admiral." Yvonne's smirk practically said that she thought otherwise, but she was willing to let the conversation end. I have someone waiting, so if you'd excuse me. Take good care of Kirsten, you hear?"

But Silas persisted. a smug smile curled on his lips when he sneered back.

"Oh, backing down I see..." he said gamely. "It was a serious accusation, Miss Yvonne Rosenving, and I'm more than happy to show how wrong you are."

He winked and Kirsten rolled her eyes in dismay.

"Well, tell you what..." The mercenary stepped closer, and it brought up some attention toward the trio. Silas appreciated the gesture by slightly leaning forward, so her whispers would be unheard by the other guests. "If we're both still alive by the end of next year, I don't mind continuing this conversation, yeah?"

Stepping away, the roguish smirk still painted on her visage, Yvonne winked back at the siblings as she curtsied briefly at the two. "Adieu."

"Fiesty isn't she?" Mused the admiral as she left, his reward was a punch to the arm by his sister. "Hey, what's the deal?!"

At that moment a servant approached them. Silas thought he was offering them a drink, so he plucked two beverages from his tray and offered one to Kirsten. But unexpectedly the servant handed her a letter.

"For you ma'am." and then he left.

Ignoring his brother's offer, Kirsten opened the letter immediately. Her expression was deadpan when she read its content.

I had no idea such scandalous stories could be true.

Please accept my heartfelt apologies, and please enjoy yourself tonight! You would never have to work like that in the York household, and I would love to have you visit sometime, if I have not offended you too greatly...
---Gepard.

"The boy has guts, I give him that." quipped Silas as he elegantly retreated from his sister's striking distance. Kirsten's expressionless mien turned into an annoyed scowl, but no further strike was launched, so Silas continued. "Gepard. The name rings a bell somewhere."

"He is from York Family." Kirsten was still having her brow furrowed when he said that.

"Oh... yes. the former Duke of Hdur. So he is the boy you dumped earlier?" Silas rubbed his chin, and continued teasingly "He seemed pretty serious. If you ask me.

"Oh please, he was not the first."

"None of your previous suitors ever went this far. What I am saying is, Kirsten York has a nice ring to it."

"We were just dancing. Okay." she retorted, sharper than both of them had anticipated. Knowing that it was just a slightly distasteful jest, Kirsten then veered from tensed to a more relaxed disposition. "I don't know. He looks cute, but that's all I know for now."

"And seemed chivalrously reckless, if I might add." Silas handed Kirsten the wine he had intended to give and toasted her. Either because of the bitterness of the liquor or the brazenness of the words in that letter, he frowned. "Imagine the uproar if Father reads it..."

He spared a moment to look around them. Jonas Delving was still chatting with his co-conspirators and seemed to be absorbed in their hobnobs. But you never know, his spies and agents were everywhere and it would be easy for him just to intercept a letter from a servant. It was fortunate no matter how shrewd their father was he too is not immune to overlooking things that seemed trivial.

At his words, Kirsten just sighed.

"Sister. I want you to know that I am not in any capacity to deprive you of choice."

"I don't want to think about it now." Kirsten folded the letter and tucked it somewhere in her bodice. Her lips tightened trying to stifle a smile as if the words embarrassed her. "What if we grab a bite? I am a bit peckish now. And I am sure your lips are tired after all of that fake smiles."

Oookay, so why did she said that?

There's part of Yvonne that normally restrained such uninhibited behavior when appropriate, but apparently she's inebriated enough to loosen it up. Otherwise, she wouldn't so easily throw that kind of invitation to Silas who currently stood in an ambiguous crossroad of the political clash. One that will likely turn into armed one sooner than later.

Oh well. Some of her regretted, other part simply taking it at stride, and a different portion suggested going where the problem couldn't touch her. Wouldn't be the first time she had to abandon ship.

Back to her table, there's Jazdia... and someone arguing with her. Rather intensely, in fact. It seemed to be ending though, whether the conversation running its course or due to Yvonne's arrival. Still, the bits and bobs of exchange she caught wasn't a pleasant topic to the ears.

"Lord Speaker Hastings, I am not here to bore myself with your rhetorics. You know who I am, so let us spare ourselves from this tedium. My answer is no, if you are really concerned about what my old colleagues think, then you should stop, for the benefit of both nations."

"I seek what is best for my own nation, Lady Crystalspark. It is such a shame that you don't understand our intention. "

"Oh I understand enough. You will wage war for profit, so do your worse on that. Now, if you please, my friend is coming. Get out of my table!"

Suppressing a scowl, Yvonne brazenly intruded as she returned to her seat like the other party weren't on the verge of becoming the second source of commotion tonight. There's certainly enough eyes on them at the moment, waiting for the pin to drop.

"My bad, that took longer than expected." The mercenary briefly scanned the still covered meal on her side of the table, a servant briskly approaching to introduce the stuff. Then her sight went to the speaker, and finally Jazdia. "You good, Sparky?"

"Welcome back." the elf regarded her. Though the portion was modest, it seemed the filleted salmon on Jazdia's plate was barely touched, and she deliberately had the knife placed through the fork's tines. The server saw this but was rather oblivious to the sign.

Considering that she didn't feel like wasting food, Jazdia asked for a pitcher of black pepper gravy instead.

"You good, Sparky?"

"I am good." the elf said perplexedly. When the servant was already left, she continued. "A politician, I can handle. But this... The Salmon is perfect, nicely done and so delicious when I am done with it, I will walk straight into the kitchen, and shoot the cook. I wholeheartedly invite you to try it out yourself!"

The elf shoved her plate and offered for her to dig in before leaning back on her seat. The dish seemed to be somewhat overcooked.

"So, good guy Silas was reaching for you now. I wonder what kind of history you have with him. Or with his gorgeous sister."

"Isn't it a bit too much to shoot the cook?"

Wow, Sparky's well and trully pissed. It's actually kinda hot. Yvonne blinked, looking at the somewhat overdone but otherwise perfectly fine salmon. Shrugging, she took the avaiable fork and split off a small chunk to sample.

"My parents not-so-subtly keep trying to throw me at him, when I was younger. Parties, balls, gathering, just about anything. Met Kirsten from time to time. It didn't really worked out the way they intended, I was way too young back then. But different story this time around, yeah?" The history was told rather flatly, for Yvonne saw nothing particularly important to emphasize. She chewed on the salmon for a moment, grimacing a bit before placing the fork back down. "Ah, I see the issue. It's not a fresh piece, and the cook tried to cover it by cooking it too thoroughly. Shoot him an extra time for me when you get down there, would you kindly?"

It wasn't exactly bad, per se, but for an event of this magnitude? Way below expectations.

Jeanie walked as briskly and quickly as she could without going into an all-out run.

Had this bear-man-creature-person-thing lost his-or-its gods damned mind?! It had *JUST* gotten kicked out of the ball for causing a scandal, and here it was, neck-deep in starting ANOTHER one!

There were the masters of the home, and then THERE WERE THE SERVANTS. There would be CONSEQUENCES for failure to avoid fraternizing between the classes! Big ones! The kind people could talk about for centuries, and here he was, big as a damn barn, being all up-front and personal, when he *NEEDED* to be discrete, and put on the air of station His Majesty sorely needed from him right now!

--WANTING US TO DINE WITH HIM!?

Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Her skirt whisked and rustled. Her knuckles where white and clenched on the hems, to avoid tripping. With a sigh of relief, she entered through the servant's door into the kitchens at long last.

"Took you long enough Jean."

That was Rupert, the sous-chef. Alfonse, the head chef, was busy manning 4 pans over the hearth, two containing delicate cream sauces, one containing a reduction glaze for carrots, and the third simmering a rich red sauce made of tomatoes and basil. The smell of fresh garlic bread radiated from his direction.

"No time to chat mister! Are those noodles ready yet or not!? The white-sauce is going to separate at this rate-- If you overcook those noodles, so help me--"

Apparently, Alfonse was feeling saucy in more ways than one. Jeanie watched Rupert fish out a piece of bow-tie pasta with a fork, then press it against the cutting board, before biting on it. "Still a bit too al dente."

"And the linguini?! Surely that's ready!"

Rupert motioned Jeanie toward the scullery. "Go make yourself useful Jeanie-- I've got my hands full out here."
"And even more full if he doesn't stop talking!" balked Alfonse.

She complied, though she was even more worried about the "bear" situation, now more than ever, seeing how busy the kitchen was. Alfonse was not really a tyrant-- He just ran a tight kitchen. Rupert on the other hand, liked to take things a little easy, and sometimes quality slipped a bit. They actually worked well together, and could coordinate large meals if they stayed focused. The issue was that Rupert's more laxidastical (Though he insisted it was "practical") nature tended to make him want to gossip and talk while he worked.

"Ignore him Jean-- He's just salty about the fish."

"What fish?... Was it salmon?" she asked, suddenly reminded of the bearman saying he could smell it being cooked all the way from his room.

"It... It was actually. It's what has us behind on serving the next course-- Had to actually FIND one in the ice-house, chip it out of the block, thaw it, and then try to do our best with something that we didn't know we even had in storage. Alfonse was FURIOUS!"

"STILL FURIOUS!" the man in the white chef's hat raged, while peeking inside the oven. "The bread is GOING TO BURN! HURRY WITH THAT PASTA!"

"Well, he's gonna LOVE this then--" started Jeanie as she called through the scullery door, while marveling that the bear had somehow actually been right about what had been cooking in here. She was pumping water into a large bronze tub used to scrub pans, while reaching for a scouring brush. "--You know Mr Tall Dark, and Hairy?"

"What about him?"

"HE GOT KICKED OUT OF THE PARTY, So that's One less mouth demanding impossible things!" balked Alfonse "FOR FUCKS SAKE, Stoke the fire a little or something!!"

"Alfonse, Do you want the noodles cooked properly, or overdone? Make up your mind."
"PUT A LID ON IT THEN!"

"Don't be so sure about that." cackled Jean. "I barely caught him before he could escape the grounds, and led him back to his room-- He wants to have dinner served There."

"OF COURSE HE DOES!! ALL OUR STAFF OUT THERE ON THE FUCKING FLOOR, AND HE WANTS US TO DRAG HIS MEALS UP FOR HIM ON THE FAR SIDE OF--"

"--With us."

The sound of bubbling pasta water, simmering sauces, and the very quiet sound of soap bubbles popping dominated the room, as far as Jeanie could tell.

"... What do you mean-- 'with us'?--" Ventured Rupert, suddenly very eager to test the pasta again.

"... I uh.... Might have let it slip.. that we don't normally get any of the food we cook or serve.." she said, getting red-faced, and doubling down on her scrubbing.

"And?" he demanded, before biting a bit of thin noodle, and deciding it was actually ready, taking it off his own hearth with pot-holders and over to the drain to strain them. "That's hardly anything controversial-- Why would he care?"

"ABOUT FUCKING TIME!" bellowed Alfonse, who elbowed Rupert away from the noodles the instant they were in the strainer, stealing it away with him and back over to where his delicate sauces were in danger of browning if they didn't get served in the next few minutes.

".. Apparently he does--- VERY STRONGLY." she groaned, then dunked the large roasting pan she had been scrubbing into the rinse basin. "He says to bring up any 'leftovers' to his room, and to bring plates for ourselves-- insists that he wants to share with us, and will be insulted if we don't"

"LIKE FUCKING HELL!"

"So, who do think we should send, Jean?"

"I have no idea, Rupe."

Jazdia decided to miss the inquiry and focused on what Yvonne had to answer. Of course, it was as shallow as that, but nonetheless, it gave her an additional insight into the magnitude of influence the Delving Clan had in this nation. Considering that the lord speaker earlier was also on their side, it was probably not very surprising.

She looked at the mercenary, wondering if she had to tell her things that had been weighing her mind.

She decided not to. Kindeance will be fine, the peace has been maintained and the status quo has been restored. Only idiots would even think about riling Fredricus up after this entire tomfoolery. Even f they are that stupid. She was done with this political game. She was retired, and it was no longer her call to be concerned with such a large-scale conflict and desolation it caused.

She wanted to direct her attention to her dinner.

Smiling, Jazdia forked her scallop and took a bite. "At least the scallop wasn't so bad. That alone would warrant less arrow to his legs."