I practiced throwing knives at the target until it was almost time to leave. Rather than just change using Personal Armory, I took some time in my room to get dressed in it properly. The trait was useful, and truthfully had caused me to grow a little lazy with dressing myself. It gave me an excuse to check myself out in a mirror for anymore bows, in case Grimoire thought he was being funny.

  The black pants and red silk shirt were both still high quality, but mostly normal looking. There were no embellishments to it, and I suspected I could get more just like them easily enough. The jacket was what really sold the outfit, though. It was the same black color as the pants, but along the sleeves were vines crawling up towards the shoulders with tiny rosebuds visible closer to the shoulders.

  I’d actually gotten a set of gloves that went rather nicely with the outfit as well from one of the various loot boxes. They were simple leather and counted as armor, even though the material was thin enough I could probably see through it if I held it up to a light. But they were dark brown, and looked the appropriate level of elegant. The enchantment was just about keeping my hands warm too, which I didn’t need but it was nice.

  I went downstairs to meet up with Calmar, Porter, and Deacon.

  Calmar was dressed in a softer green suit with some red accents. It made him look less severe than I did, especially since he’d cleaned up his beard and gotten a haircut since this morning. Now his hair looked brighter, and I could almost believe the smile he wore.

  Porter was wearing slacks and a long shirt, but it was hidden behind the obvious breastplate and armored greaves. There was a small buckler and a long sword attached to his side. It was considered rude for guests to attend with visible weaponry, but Porter didn’t seem like the type to care. If I wasn’t expecting danger myself, I’d assume the helmet he was wearing was a bit much, but I kind of wanted one myself.

  Deacon was mostly unchanged. The main difference was the quality, but I also couldn’t help but find my attention drawn towards his face. It was weird, since his only change there had been to shave and his new cape had this shimmery material that looked smooth to touch. Kind of like how smooth he’d gotten his cheeks with that razor. It’s pretty impressive I can’t even…

  I shook my head and glared at him. Deacon smirked and waggled his eyebrows at me. “Cheap trick, huh?”

  “Magic cape?” I asked, taking note he had his guitar strapped to his back as well.

  He shrugged and started forward, “And a few skills. Not my favorite cape, though.” As he walked, he took out his familiar hat and planted it right on top of his head. I hadn’t even noticed it was missing.

  “What cape would that be?” Calmar asked, genuinely curious.

  “Mistdirection. It lets me make fog and mist around me with a bit of mana.” He practically hopped into the carriage, “It was great for stage shows.”

  I climbed in after him and Calmar was after me, “Anything else, or just the mist?”

  “Bonus to sleight of hand type skills.” He leaned back as Porter got in last. “Didn’t use it a lot since it was also bright white and always billowing.”

  I snorted at the idea of a cape that was always billowing. “That sounds ridiculous. What happened to it?”

  “Sold it. Didn’t need it anymore, and the mist gimmick wasn’t appreciated in some venues due to the dangers of mildew.” He rolled his eyes, “No appreciation for talent.”

  We talked some more about nothing much as the carriage started to move. There wasn’t far to go, but it sent a message if we came walking in like ‘commoners’. It was more of the appearance crap I didn’t care for, especially since I wasn’t likely to get experience for it like I would have before the last party. Not that I knew how much a Noble would get at a party like this. Maybe it would have still been a waste.

  When we got to the front of Lord Germaine’s mansion, I had to resist the urge to frown. I’d passed the place a couple of times, but tonight there were bright orange and green banners flanking the entrance to his mansion. The building itself was easily three times the size of the Rosecrest Manor, but all I could really see were the garish colors in the fading light.

  We got out of the carriage, and headed for the front door, but I couldn’t stop looking up at the banner. Calmar poked me and muttered, “Don’t stare. He’ll start talking about color theory and you’ll be stuck all night.”

  I turned to stare at him in confusion, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything as we stepped inside. It was like an explosion of sound went off, with bombastic music coming from somewhere nearby. It was a lot of horns and drums and almost overwhelming to my senses, but Deacon actually looked excited. I couldn’t hear if he said anything, but as we moved off towards a room where a crowd was gathering to the right, the music started to lower in volume.

  When I could finally hear myself think, Deacon was looking around, impressed. “Excellent manipulation of sound. They’re using magic to amplify and direction the music. I wonder where they’re playing.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Calmar smiled, “They’ll be in one of the other halls, probably. Be careful you two.” He directed that mostly to me, “And don’t do anything too drastic.”

  I smiled with a little more venom behind it than I meant for him, “You know me, Cal. Discretian incarnate.” I turned from them, but still heard Porter snort a laugh. Deacon made a promise to keep me safe before following after me.

  Something weird happened to the sound in the room and then I heard Deacon as if he was talking into my ear. “So, where to first?”

  “Bar.” I said in a voice just over normal speaking volume. “Have to sell me being distraught, right?”

  “You just want an excuse to drink.” Deacon replied in a dry tone.

  “Yep.” I agreed with him.

  So, the entrance hall had two main halls off to either side. The one we’d found ourself in was mostly full of tables that had colorful displays of flowers that changed from table to table. Looking closer at one near one of the drink tables, I noticed they were made of cloth instead of actual flowers, and the only reason I’d even checked was the bright blue ones that looked like roses. It was unusual enough that I commented on it to Deacon when I checked the one on the drinks table.

  “That is strange.” He said, grabbing a flute glass and sniffing it before putting it back. “Sparkling wine.”

  I frowned, “Should we try the table over there?” I nodded across the room. There was another long table set out for drinks that were a rainbow of different colors I’d seen sporadically through the crowd. “Or just ask someone?”

  “We should try something, or else you’ll be accused of not appreciating the effort from your host.” Deacon said, looking around the room as well. “Though this probably isn’t the only room for guests to mingle, just the largest.”

  Deacon was the one navigating us around the room, since he could actually see over some of the crowd. It wasn’t wall to wall people, but everyone was wearing something eye catching and bright. My eyes felt like they were straining part of the time trying to make sense of it all.

  One man, for example, was dressed in what looked like a glowing nimbus of a cloud. Looking closer, it was just an accessory since his outfit beneath that was a plain, well made suit.

  A woman he was talking with had rainbow lights that seemed to form between the horns of a little tiara. The rainbow lights were reflected off the shiny surface of her dress that was cut rather low in the chest and filled the air with visual clutter I was not happy with.

  And those two were rather mild.

  There were dozens of people in various forms of attire, all trying to catch the eye of each other. The Duke’s party wasn’t nearly this bad, what is going on?

  I was guided out of the room by Deacon and shook my head to try and reset my brain. After a few minutes, I looked up at Deacon, “Is this common?”

  Deacon shrugged, “Its not uncommon, even in a normal bar crawl.” He looked over my shoulder, “Though usually never so loud.”

  We wandered the halls, where the music was louder but I assumed Deacon was doing something to keep it from being overwhelming. That or it was only that loud at the entrance to surprise people. Rather than asking, I turned my attention to the stuff Lord Germaine used for decoration.

  It was a lot of paintings and tapestries in unusual colors. There weren’t a lot of reds present, but the presence of a lot of browns and yellows meant it didn’t feel cold. When there wasn’t something on the wall, there was bust or decorative statuette displayed on a table. I didn’t really understand art that much. Deacon was impressed though.

  “Huh, is this made from one piece?” He stopped and was looking at a little diorama made of some kind of glass or crystal. It showed Lord Germaine standing triumphantly at the front of a caravan and it was done in fine detail.

  Zooming in my perseption, I couldn’t see any breaks in the material. “I think so. The wheels in the first cart are from the same piece the road is made of, at least.”

  “How?! The road is brown, the wheels are black.” Deacon snapped a finger and a small light appeared on his finger. “Huh. You’re right.”

  I smiled at him before pulling my flask from my inner pocket. I had given up finding a room with good alcohol for now and just too a swig before putting it back. “It can’t be that uncommon for a crafter to work with glass on this scale.”

  “No, but find me one who can control color like that and doesn’t charge a kingdom’s treasury.” He gave the diorama one last look before turning to look at me, “I wonder if he’s got some kind of art room.”

  “A couple, but only one is currently open to the public.” A voice said to our left. I turned and saw someone who looked familiar. She was over a head taller than I was, and this time her dress was a shifting gradient of oranges and yellows that seemed to mimic the vertical dusk outside. Her bright blonde, curly hair was hard to mistake though.

  “Lady Aria.” I said, putting on my best fake smile. There were other people meandering through the hallway and it wouldn’t look good for me to seem unfriendly to one of Lord Germaine’s wives. “How have you been?”

  “Well, for the most part. Harold dying was unexpected, but Bollart was able to step up into the role.” She let out a melodramatic sigh that didn’t seem sincere, “There will be a place to pay respects to the victims of that horrid attack in the main hall.”

  “Attack?” I said, looking over to Deacon, “What kind of attack? I just heard people fell ill.”

  “Oh, there’s a terrorist going around attacking the labor traders, didn’t you hear?” Aria said, looking mildly annoyed, “Not that they’d had anything we’d wanted anyway. Do you know how hard it is to find a good musician?”

  “I couldn’t imagine.” Deacon said with enough dry sarcasm I expected a desert to form around us. “I could use a drink, do you have something besides wine?”

  Aria looked at Deacon, taking him in with her gaze and dismissing him, “What do I look like, a servant? Try the smoker’s lounge.”

  I perked up at that, “Maybe I should drop him off there, which way would that be?”

  I had interupted her, and she looked genuininely surprised. “Uh, further down the hall. It’s got glass doors and is open to the gardens outside.”

  “Thank you, Lady Aria.” I said, my smile more genuinine as I gave her a shallow bow. “Come on Deacon, lets get you set up with a good drink and a smoke.”

  I looked back to see Deacon tipping his hat to Aria, who stood there next to the little diorama looking confused. I didn’t care, wanting to avoid Germaine’s wives as long as I could.