Armor, bascinet and crossbow presented by Uzmaen were thrown somewhere in forests of Vorr. They rested in bushes like treasure waiting to be found. The tool in his shoe was still with him because he wasn’t confident on thin planning, he had convinced himself as a strategy. In the palace area of Avena, he recalled Uzmaen talking about his eye. Saer hoped it was the reddest his left eye could get, otherwise he would have to think of another believable excuse. The lie had to last for minimum two nights. Most of the servants would not get sound sleep for those two nights. He imagined servants with red eyes around him on the wedding day. The fragrance of newly plotted flowers was mood lifting outside the gate. Workers were coming with more vases. Painters on bamboo ladders looked down at him. When he took a couple of steps on stairs to the castle, a guard in polished armor came towards him. Painters of walls watched them as they ran their brushes on dulled walls. “What?” Guard asked. Saer opened his bag, his hand grazed on the vessel. Saer took out the scroll and closed the bag. Guard spun the scroll till he saw the emblem. He waved it at other guards and broke the seal. It did not feel like it was a work of forgery. He read the scroll twice. Saer heard his low voice, “Thought you were an entertainer. You are too muscular to be a temporary servant.” Guard tossed the document back to Saer. He stepped aside, clearing the way from him to move ahead. Hate opened, and he was looking at the yellow castle from inside. Saer did not get to observe the decorated palace for long. One man came from a timber house. “Put your bag there.” He pointed at where he had come from. “Will I be sleeping here?” “Yes, with some snoring soldiers.” He said. The man snatched the bag from his shoulder and pulled the thread closing its mouth. He took out the vessel. “Is this all you have?” he questioned, shaking it. “Yes. My late father’s gift.” Guard put it back in his pouch. Seconds later, the vessel was back in his possession. Saer followed him to the humid room and hid the vessel near his sleeping mat. “Take this to cellar.” Guard pointed at a sack of wheat, “Go down through chemise.” Saer heaved it to bus back and walked through the archway in search of food chamber. The region of chemise was the only place which was yet to be decorated. He entered inside the store room where castle servants were placing mouse traps. Saer's muscular stature had given him a fair share of fame amongst servants. He placed the sack, clapped dust off his palms and climbed on vaulted stairways. Saer paused in mid-way of the passage, then looked at the ceiling. He did not want to, but his senses could not help. Three Calajhans were straight above him. Saer had no track of the young man who had been roaming around with the noble family. He remembered Rudolph referring him as a Bloudkast. Where is Nortze’s real son? Why can’t I see where he is? Saer scratched his chin. Is this man sent by Wernh’An and Nortze doesn’t know? Saer had many speculations about the stranger. He would have kept deducing if he hadn’t heard a dog bark from end of the archway. By no measures it sounded like palace dog. Its bark was not intimidating at all, but its size sure was. The collared dog, tall enough to reach his waist, came there with its tongue dangling. Saer turned his head to the wall when he saw Braden walking it. He moved to a statue, holding a loose chalice, pretending to clean it with his sleeve. Braden and Trov went past him without any glancing at him. Saer saw him get inside the last room with his dog. Saer hoped Maester Rudolph didn’t come there to teach them. Saer wouldn’t have been surprised even if he did. He breathed and got ready to leave the passage. He met a servant coming there with a tray of glasses. The glasses looked too lavish for servants to put their lips on. And there was nobody noble in the store room. He, too, showed the same curiosity towards the substitute servant. When he came closer to Saer, he noticed the glasses he was carrying were empty. Saer glared at his face. Perhaps he was also trying to pass a comment on Saer, so he locked eyes with Saer. The glasses on the tray started to clatter. The servant lost control over his hands and the glasses ended up breaking on the floor. Sound of glasses splintering echoed to ears of guards present nearby. Two of them arrived to see what had happened. “Darius!” one guard bellowed, “You broke glasses again?” “He bumped on me.” Darius pointed at Saer. “Hey-” Saer placed his hand hard on his shoulder. “You.” Guard said to Saer, “Choose between being flogged and pay cut.” “Pay cut.” Saer mumbled. “Careful scum. Next time you will not be making choices. CLEAN THE FLOOR.” The guards stormed out along with Dairus. While Saer picked glass bits, Darius had another at Saer’s eye. Saer caught him doing so. “Darius.” Saer whispered.