The sun was already down when the Patriarch stood.

He raised his glass.

The hall went quiet before he opened his mouth.

"Thank you for coming." His voice carried without effort. "The house of Vernon. Blauenstein. And the affiliated families. Welcome to the Lestilaut estate."

Glasses went up around the room.

Arthur scanned them.

Ealon raised his with the ease of someone who had done this in bigger rooms. The grey-templed man beside him. The twins. The man with the black bellus.

Vak raised his last.

He glanced at Arthur over the rim and smirked.

Arthur looked away.

The red-haired Vernon woman stood. Her crimson eyes moved across the room as she spoke.

"Without this alliance we would not have made the progress we have with the council. The patriarch of this house made it possible." She raised her glass toward the Patriarch. "To the Archmagus."

"Cheers."

The room echoed it back.

’Follow along.’ Vexis appeared at his shoulder. ’Raise your glass. You look like you’ve never attended a banquet in your life.’

I haven’t. Technically.

Arthur raised his glass and drank.

It was extraordinarily bitter.

He looked at Roz on his shoulder. Roz was staring at the glass with his full attention and both ears forward.

"You want it?"

"Hah." Roz grabbed the bottle before Arthur finished the sentence and tipped it back. His throat moved three times. He lowered it with the satisfaction of someone who had earned it.

The Patriarch’s voice came back through the room.

"Without delay. Let the banquet begin."

The noise returned. Conversation from every direction at once.

A spike of pain hit the back of Arthur’s skull.

He exhaled and pulled his shadow network back. Not all of it. He kept the anchors near the Blauenstein table and the Vernon side. Everything else he let go.

The pressure behind his sternum eased.

Too many voices feeding back at once. My brain was turning to soup.

He settled into his chair and looked at the room.

Three families. One toast.

From what he remembered across two thousand Chapters, Lestilaut had never appeared alongside Blauenstein. Not once. The Blauenstein family showed up late in the story, already in motion, already a problem, with no clear history of how they got there. The author had introduced them like the reader was supposed to already know who they were.

The Blauenstein had the elven tears supply through Vak. Vak was allied with Lestilaut. Which meant if the rebellion was already being built quietly behind banquet tables and careful toasts, Lestilaut was either a willing piece of it or didn’t know yet what they’d been pulled into.

He looked at the Patriarch at the head of the room.

Ealon was two seats from him.

Watching the room the way Arthur watched rooms. Not looking at anything really.

Looking at everything.

Their eyes didn’t meet this time.

Arthur looked away first anyway.

A tap on his shoulder.

He turned.

A woman stood beside him. Around his age. Ash brown hair. Green eyes. A red and black dress, neat at the collar, the kind of formal that said she’d chosen it carefully. She was holding her own glass with both hands and her eyes moved between his face and somewhere past his left ear.

Someone who had gathered herself to come over here and was now committed to it.

"Vexis?" Her voice came out with a slight lift at the end. "Right?"

"Yes." Arthur looked sideways at Vexis hovering next to him.

Who is this?

’I don’t know everyone.’ Vexis crossed his arms. ’Don’t look at me.’

You literally live here.

’Doesn’t mean I’m supposed to know every wench that will—’

"I was wondering." The woman’s eyes came back to his face. "If you’d like to dance."

’HAH.’ Vexis straightened immediately. ’See? My natural magnetism for wenches is simply—’

Arthur looked at Roz.

Roz was already smirking into the bottle.

Oh no.

He did not want to do this. He had a rebellion to map out and an anchor to maintain and no idea how people danced in this world and Vexis’s muscle memory covered combat not whatever was happening in the center of the room right now.

"I appreciate it." Arthur cleared his throat. "Unfortunately I suffered an accident not long ago. I’m still recovering. I don’t think I’d be much of a partner tonight."

’WHAT.’ Vexis dropped directly in front of his face. ’ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW. I AM AN EXCELLENT DANCER. THIS BODY HAS BEEN TRAINED SINCE—’

"Oh." The woman’s fingers curled slightly around her glass. "That’s a shame. I hope your recovery goes well."

"Thank you."

She turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"Wuss," Roz said. Still drinking.

Arthur said nothing.

’My reputation.’ Vexis drifted to the left with the energy of a man watching something burn. ’You are actively destroying my reputation.’

Arthur picked up a piece of food from the nearest tray and ate it.

Oh this is good—

The clanging of metal came from the Vernon side.

Sharp. Loud enough to cut through the room noise.

Arthur’s head came up.

He pushed his anchor in.

Vak was on the ground. Both knees on the marble. His forehead down. Blood running from his nose, hitting the floor in a thin steady line. His hands were flat against the stone and shaking.

The pressure in the room had a direction.

It was coming from the head of the table.

The red-haired woman was already moving toward the Patriarch, hands slightly raised.

"I apologize, Archmagus. He’s been under considerable strain recently. The council investigation has been—"

"Silence."

One word. The room went with it.

The Patriarch looked at Vak on the floor.

"How dare you." His voice was quiet. That specific quiet that was worse than volume. "Emitting that level of bloodlust in this estate."

"It’s a— mistake." Vak’s voice came out broken at the edges. Blood dripping from his chin. "Forgive— me."

"Archmagus please, my brother—"

"Am I speaking to you."

The woman closed her mouth.

The Patriarch let the silence run for a moment. Then he looked across the room.

At Arthur.

"You are guests in this house," he said. Still looking at Arthur. "And you directed that toward my son."

The room was completely still.

Arthur held the Patriarch’s gaze.

Holy shit. Your father is nuts.

’Aaa... I know right..’