Nobles and games. (1)

James stared at himself in the mirror for the someteenth time that evening. He didn't know why the dance made him feel more nervous than what was going to come thereafter. The whole dance, the whole issue with Mikhail, it was no more than a prelude.

Still, he supposed he was a sixteen year old at heart. Getting flustered over having a date to the dance. Now he had to abandon his preplanned pank like look. It was lucky he'd had a few gentle clothes met. Too bad they were centuries ahead of the times in this world.

'Maybe if I just avoid the tie, things will go well?' he thought.

Still, the black and white tuxedo ensemble was no doubt going to be a huge hit. He was shuddering already imagining the attention.

"We should up and leave already," Talia complained. "You need to get to your date faster. She might think you're planning to stand her up."

James didn't turn to stare at her. It was a fact that Crescida Bladhaven affected him in some profound way even he was yet to figure out, but Talia affected him just as much. He just tried not to show it, because it would unalterably change their relationship. They were already toeing a tight rope, no use complicating things any further.

She made it difficult though, when she showed him her jealousy like that. He sighed.

"Fine. Let's go then. Is everyone ready?"

He opened the door into the hall, where all the others stood at attention. They were all going to the fete with him, if only to allay as much suspicion as they could. They looked sharp in his futuristic new uniforms, with matching cream jackets all spotting the golden fleece of house Halden.

They were sure to draw a lot of attention, which would have been much more bearable if James could have camouflaged himself among them. Now he had to look so different, with his black coat contrasting his hair that would soon grow long enough to tie into one nice tail.

He sighed again as he led them to the double doors that led out of the mansion. Only Mary whose mission would start a lot earlier and would depend on tracking someone she didn't even know by face was not with them. He thought he saw a shape watching them from the shadows though, so he knew she'd at least seen them off.

Talia was as impatient as ever. With her in tow, she hadn't allowed him to stand in line, or rather sit in line, like he had that first time he came here. She had this thing about hating nobles, but she always took advantage of his status whenever she needed to.

She used it even better than he did, if he was being honest. Power would suit her well, whenever she acquired it.

And she weathered the attention well. So did the others. Jason seemed to back in it, looking this way and that with a first smile in two days. Rayne was trying not to react to it at all. The mercenaries, who were attracting the most attention seemed impervious, and Hansworth stood so rigidly straight, James wondered if he'd imagined the slouch the first time they'd met.

They were all so confident. James was already shaking, and he was just sitting. It was weird. He'd allocated the jobs so that he'd have the easiest one. He'd only need attend the fete, stay there the whole night with a few of his guards meanwhile the others laid waste to the revolution's plans.

He'd not even need to be involved. But now someone else had made their own plans for him. Plans in which he'd be involved as nothing more than a pawn.

The carriage door was opened. He stepped out onto a red carpet. Crescida was already waiting it seemed. Her eyes bugged out once she caught sight of him, and very many breaths whooshed in the silent night as James Halden once again stole the show.

************************

Mary had watched the young master and the rest go with mixed feelings. She still remembered their conversation from the night before. It had started with him confiding his fears, and had ended with her crying for the first time in years. She was conflicted.

Still, the assassin's guild was doing something she personally took offence with. Investing in child enslavement. She couldn't forgive them. It was that simple. They just had to die. Now to find a way of tracking down this Kaiser or whatever Hus name was. As expected, madam Vi was already waiting for her.

"So you're the one he's sent to deal with this? He's got some interesting servants, like I thought."

"I'm not here for pleasantries. I hope you're prepared to provide support to our efforts," Mary answered with her shadow of death voice.

"Of course," Madam Vi nodded. "The merchant king has already agreed to loan us hordes of soldiers. They've already been smuggled in. I just wanted to ask who we should attack first."

"We are only to deal with the assassins for now," Mary answered. "Or at least so my master said. If things get dicey for the other team, we may assist them, but till then, only the lower city matters to us."

The revolution was going to attack the palace while their explosives claimed casualties in the noble and merchant districts. They wanted to appear as haters of the well to do, as allies of the lower city.

If their bombs didn't affect the city as they'd hoped, they might be forced to flee. That was the young master's hope anyway. Mary found herself thinking it was too simplistic, but she hoped it worked if the young master would survive in the end.

Madam Vi was better versed on the movements of the different assassin clans. She planned everything out with Mary, but just before her and her ward left, Mary stopped Ariane.

"There is a man in the abandoned guard tower in the slums. Go get him, but do not let him escape his bonds no matter what. He is a clan leader, so he might not be an easy one to deal with."

"A question for you on that matter, by the way. How many of the clan leaders who are missing are dead?"

Whisper just turned away. "Make sure you signal me once you get a read on Kaiser's location."

And then she was gone. Off to enjoy a banquet of death. There was a real banquet happening deep to the South of the city, though how these screams never reached them, no one would ever know.

**********************

James had captured everyone's attention since he'd stepped onto the carpet. But now the mist intent stare he'd ever felt was pinned unyieldingly on his back. He'd noticed Gertrude's hair first, since she was taller. Then he'd seen her intent as she glared at him.

His nervousness had escaped immediately.

"Hey how's about we hit the dance floor a bit early?" he'd told Crescida.

She'd spoken too fast for it to be taken as a natural response. Perhaps he'd managed to fluster her too. But then again, she'd always been too fast to redden like a ripe tomato.

He hadn't noticed that many of the couples on stage had paused to watch them take the floor. He'd been too busy trying to run from a certain princess. He didn't even notice prince Mikhail watching him from where he danced with another woman on the floor.

He'd taken Crescida by the waist, and the two waltzed together so naturally. He stared at her dress, as he'd never been able to before. He hadn't imagined her being brave enough to wear something this sumptuous. She noticed him noticing.

"Finally," she snorted.

"Finally? What are you talking about?"

"You hadn't looked at my dress the whole night. I kind of noticed because you didn't comment on it. I know how the rumours all say I like to dress all prim and proper all the time."

James leaned, "well sorry if I made you feel insecure." His hand rose to her open back, she stiffened a little. "Your dress is lovely, but I was more taken by your face, I suppose."

She reddened, buried her face in his chest. "Shut up! You can't say that kind of stuff to an engaged woman. And take your hands off my back, won't you? People are watching."

He did as he was told, looked around and that's when he noticed Emily's more heated glare. He noted that other people were starting to notice it too.

"So that's why you rushed me to the dance floor. I have noticed you haven't spoken to the princess once since you got to the capital."

"Not much reason to. I want the rumours of our impending engagement crushed, so I won't add fuel to that particular fire. Besides, the royal family is out to get me too."

"Hmmm? Alright I suppose. Though, you do look good too, although in a none conventional way, like always."

"I try not to disappoint. I do hope you have a plan, prince Mikhail looks to be getting impatient. He's just left the dance floor, apparently, though I don't remember seeing him here. The farce will begin any second no," James warned.

"Yes, so about my plan." Crescida said with a wince. "I thought you'd help me by, you know, embracing the rumours about you being a pig. Perhaps interpret me inviting you to a dance the wrong way or something."

James didn't think he was going to be able to do that, not even if he'd been sure what she was talking about.

"But how does this help you? It will only embarrass both of us."

"Keeping our alliance secret benefits both of us in the long run. I'm sure after today there might be questions about your involvement, especially considering that incident during the hunt, that message you sent me the other day. Even considering your spies are very good, surely the dots will be connected. You acting like a pig will assuage the suspicions of all but the mist cunning of our enemies. And you do know this is just the first step, I'm sorry if I presume much by speaking of an alliance, but surely you know we have our work cut out for us battling the royal family."

Jame was thinking furiously. This was not going to be as uninvolved an evening as he'd first planned. Crescida didn't know a lot about him, but she seemed desperate enough to partner him. She didn't know he didn't particularly need her help, but he wanted to help her. Damn it he really did! Instead she'd come up with a plan to keep him out of the lime light by immersing him into it.

"Lady Crescida Bladhaven, you have been accused of crimes against the crown. Will the lady in question come forth for judgement!" Prince Mikhail's voice boomed out over the dance floor.

They exchanged resigned looks, and then she was brushing past him with a hint of uncertainty. All part of the act, he hoped.