"His Highness, Prince Gideon," the announcer shouted.

Gris gasped and swallowed down his heart crawling up his throat.

I need to return Mageia!

The realization screamed in his head. He knew that the Commander knew everything that was happening on the palace grounds and the kingdom. It will not be long before the arrogant bastard mentioned the Purple Thief who was supposed to be with Gideon.

Oh I hope Dargany is returning her now.

He fumbled with the buttons along his vest and watched in horror as his stepbrother made his way to their end. He greeted everyone with a nod and his slick grin as if he was always up to something clever.

"Family, you all look beautiful this fine day," he said sliding into his chair or rather Gris' chair.

Queen Saia squealed; a hand pressed to her plump bosom. "I am so happy you are here, Gid."

"Same here. How did your meeting go with the blacksmith?"

Gideon nodded to the waiter who placed down his bowl of soup then gave his stepfather a bright smile. "Fine as usual. The cost of the new daggers was over excessive, but with a bit of heart-to-heart encouragement-," he said bouncing his eyebrows in a flirtatious manner, "-I was able to reduce it faster than need be."

"You were always good with negotiations, son," Saia said with a mother's proud smile.

Gris' gut churned by the statement, but he found himself trying to catch eyes with Orlan who stood a foot behind the royals in the line of floor servants. The Commander's eyes narrowed in great suspicion and followed Gris' gaze. Gris quickly looked away hoping to reduce the uneasiness on his face and body language.

Then a hand plummeted to his left shoulder then shook him joyously. "Grisonce! What a welcoming sight you are," Gideon said smiling with all his teeth, blue eyes glassed with joy.

Despite everyone's discomfort of his presence, Gideon was always the most accepting. Sometimes all Gris needed was for Gideon to be around to put everyone at ease.

"You too Gideon."

"And he speaks," he said eyes glistening with an underlining meaning. He brushed a strand of his blond hair from his eyes and grinned. "Because I had a meeting to go to and didn't know when I'd return, I thought it best to summon you to replace me."

"Y-you sent the invite?" he said. A part of him was honored to be thought about, but the other half was hurt that it wasn't his father who sent the invite.

"Yes. I thought about stopping by your chambers to see if you were still alive, but things got in the way."

"So... to change to a more suitable subject," Queen Saia said, her rudeness visible than ever. "I heard that you were planning to extend the border eastward, honey?"

King Dimitri sprouted erect having to be addressed. "Yes. The council has been discussing the idea."

"But doesn't that require entering the Dauntless Mountains?" Princess Relana said.

"It does. The Commander and I will have meetings soon about excavating the area to make sure it is now inhabitable for construction."

"A meeting is honestly unnecessary," Eron said his husky voice scratching Gris' ears. "Just give the word and my brave scouts will flush out the mountainside. It is quite simple."

"Yes, those woods in that area has been untouched for years now," the King said. "But huge projects require a lot of paperwork and negotiations, Commander. Something, I know, you soldiers dread."

Commander Eron gave a sharp smile. "We do."

"Damn this soup is delicious," Gideon interrupted. He turned to Gris and his back straightened. "Give your chef or cooks a raise, eh brother?"

Brother. The very word made him both cringe and chuckle. He nodded, "Absolutely."

"Nonsense Gid. The only raise these slaves should get is the height of the noose," Saia scuffed receiving a chuckle from the Councilman beside Gris.

"Now, now Saia, no talking of death while we're sitting here," the King inverted.

Gris growled on the inside and had to say what shot to his mind. "Mind you, Your Majesty. These slaves worked very hard for this Luncheon to receive such a distasteful remark from their queen."

The Queen gasped as if it she was truly offended by the obvious. Gideon laughed aloud and gave Gris a nudge with his elbow.

"Well, at least you managed to say that without a single st-st-stutter," Relana said making those within earshot laugh, especially her ignorant mother.

Gris' cheeks grew hot, and he felt to have slumped a bit in his chair.

"Oh, Saia you have some nerve to taunt our brother knowing how you've been losing hair as of late."

Relana gasped in disbelief by Gideon's outburst that demised every smile. Gris smiled though, happy to have someone defend him for once. However, his rebuttal looked to be somewhat true by the horror blushing her face.

"Mother did you hear what he said. Father dismiss him, now."

"Calm down, Rela. Gideon, apologize to your sister," the King said completely uninterested.

"Over my dead body," Gideon taunted returning to his soup.

Finally, Gris caught eyes with Orlan and he gestured him over. The floor servant came around the table and the Commander did not look a bit pleased.

"Yes, Your Highness," he said a bit too loud, but for good reason Gris assumed.

He gestured him to come closer. "I need you to deliver a message to Limp- I mean Rasheem."

"Yes sir."

"I just re-remembered. Tell him to return that gift right now. No delay. I just remembered. It's the wrong kind," he said with a bit of authority and haste.

"Gift?" Orlan looked so confused, Gris' heart began to burn with panic.

"He will understand. Send the message immediately."

"Yes sir, right away sir," Orlan said eyes narrowed, but head bopping. With a faster speed, the floor servant exited into the kitchen.

"You bought someone a gift, am I hearing correctly, brother?" Gideon said leaning so close to him he could smell the mixture of his cologne with the blacksmiths rusty odor.

Gris' lips clamped shut unable to speak, but his head nodded for him.

"Really?" Gideon said oddly impressed as if he was incapable of the task.

"Yes," Gris forced out.

"To whom? Me, I hope. I did invite you."

"Who cares, really?" Saia shrugged.

"I do," Rela said leaning forward. "Did you get something for me?"

"Why would he get something for you, Rel? You just insulted him."

She rolled her eyes at Gid, but she still looked curious.

"It was for neither you or Rela. It was for father," he said. These words were a lie, but it was a thought-through lie.

He waited for the man's reaction and it came. His father looked at him, fully, with no hesitation, hard eyes softening to pure curiosity and shock.

"How nice of you..."

Son, he wanted to hear, but it didn't leave his lips. Gris could read it in his eyes though and pressed a smile.

"I had forgotten that silk gives you rashes," he said slow and easy to prevent a stutter. "I was supposed to return the robe earlier and forgot. You know how fr-frisky those tailors get when it comes to their supposed artwork."

"True. True," Gideon bopped his head indulging in his wine.

"I will get you another, father," Gris said. Despite it being a part of a lie, Gris made a vow to get the King an actual gift in hopes of being more recognized.

The King stared at him for a while, blinking. Then a kind smile stretched across his face, and he nodded.

"Thank you very much, Grisonce."

Gris trembled on the inside hearing him say his name. How strange that it has been a while since he heard him say his full name without some sense of rebuke. The table fell silent as everyone returned to their soup.

He tried hard to suppress the smile that wanted to conquer his face. Perhaps, this was a good idea to come. Everyone may still dislike him, but these small moments are what he would cherish.

"Gideon, Your Highness," Eron's voice bellowed across the table.

Gris' heart skipped a beat.

"Yes, Commander Shadarrr," Gideon said strangely happy to conversate with him.

Eron ignored it, eyes narrowing. "How many escorts did you take to on your trip today?"

Oh no! Oh gods no! Gris's heart thumped in his ears, panic erasing his sense of peace as if it should never be permanent.

"Awe, are you regretting not tagging along?" Gideon teased, eyebrow bouncing flirtatiously.

Eron's eyes widened in disgust for a second. "Just answer the question," he said.

"Four, although I know it is not your recommended number, Eron," Gideon said, playing with the sound of his name.

"The purpose of protocol is safety," Eron said.

Gris frowned realizing the strangeness of Eron's authority when both he and Gideon were the same age of nineteen.

Gideon grinned the more obviously enjoying this conversation. "Well, I am overjoyed to have you care so much about my safety, Ser Fireborn."

Eron's jaw locked from the name calling. Relana giggled, glancing and batting her eyelashes at the Fiisen who merely gave her a quick side glance.

"You're supposed to have them with you when leaving Royal Grounds," the King said.

"I know. I know. But sometimes they are no fun," Gideon said.

"The job of a royal escort is not to join in on your fun," Eron said.

The prince gave a dismissive wave and continued meddling in his food.

"Next time take your designated twelve," the King said.

"Yes, magnificent father. I shall abide by the laws and the rules of protocol."

The King shook his head in either boredom or annoyance.

From the corner of his eyes, Gris could see Eron was not finished with the conversation.

"So, was your extra company-,"

"Why don't we cut to the meal, father?" Gris interrupted wearing a decent smile.

"Yes. I am starving," Gideon said unaware of the redirection.

"Good idea. I think some of our guest are finished their appetizers down there," the King said. He turned to gesture to the servants, and they all exited into the kitchen for the main meal. Everyone dispersed into new conversations. Gideon, describing the weapons he was buying to his father. Saia spoke quietly to her daughter and fixed a hem of her dress to fit some type of perfection.

However, he caught eyes with Eron, glaring at him with the utmost hatred. Gris felt his throat close as if he could just feel the man's hands burning him alive. He knew Gris was up to something and interrupting him only clarified it. Gris prayed to Rasaal or perhaps Mesori who could possibly give him a bit of luck in this situation.

Where is Dargany? He was supposed to make a quick appearance just to show Mageia was in transport back to the Taefo. But the hour of possessing Mageia had not fully come yet. And who knew if Orlan relayed his message quick enough.

The main meal exited the kitchens and was distributed to everyone. The pulled chicken breast lathered in an herbal gravy sat beside slices of honeyed bread and lettuce. Gris remembered talking to the chef about how lunch should be a fun meal, a meal to get one's hands dirty. No one seemed to complain as they made their sandwiches the way they liked. Extra condiments were placed on the table, and everyone possessed pleased smiles.

Eron did not touch his food nor avert his eyes from Gris. This made him very uncomfortable and worried. Gris shifted in his chair, trying to come up with some excuse to dismiss himself. Nothing seemed like a good idea.

Then the unspeakable happened. Eron cleared his throat, glaring at Gideon. "Prince Gideon. Did you return your company to the Taefo?"

Gris held his breath eyes glued on his trembling fingers fumbling with the bread. Gideon leaned forward, "Company? What do you mean?"

"Your escorts came for you-know-who and took her to you."

"You-know-who, Commander?" he said with a questionable expression.

Eron's eyes looked to flare on fire. "The Purple Thief. Did you not request to have her for company?"

"Ew that's disgusting, Gid," Relana said, and her mother shivered in agreement.

Gideon grinned, but he still looked rather confused. "I...did not request for her, Commander."

Everyone was quiet now glancing from an awe-struck Gideon to a furious Eron.

"Are you sure?"

"I think I'd know if I had a purple eyed beauty on my trip."

Gris froze. Everyone froze, watching Eron's fists clench and his ivory skin deepen into a darker tone.

Uh oh... Gris thought ice running through his veins.

"But they were from your escort. They came and took her from me."

"Commander, what is going on?" the King intruded.

Gideon shook his head. "I didn't ask them to get her. Who exactly did you speak too?"

"Ser Merlin and Dargany."

Gris' gut flipped. Gideon frowned, "I released them from service before I left. But wasn't Dargany apart of your escort, Gris?"

Now all eyes were on him and his mouth opening and closing like Limp. He felt the color in his face drain and as much as he tried to regather himself the more, he fell apart.

Eron's fist slammed the table catching everyone's attention at the other end. The room fell silent.

"It was you who gave the request, wasn't it?" Eron snarled.

Why do you hate me so much? Was the real question.

"Uh... uh w-well, uh I-I, s-see..."

"Speak, you pathetic little boy," Eron grumbled.

Gris' wanted to say something, but his tongue was now twisted in his mouth and his words cluttered at the back of his throat. He glanced at his father for help, but he just stared at him with hard eyes.

"Gris what did you do?" Gideon said his face crawling with hurt.

"Did I not deny your request earlier, Grisonce?" the King bellowed. "How dare you defy me."

"Where is she? Where is the Purple Thief?" Eron demanded.

Murmurings of fright rose, and Saia cursed at him. Gris fumbled with his vest, fear gripping his jaw so tight it began to ache in pain.

"M-m-my ch-chamb-bers," was the only two words he could spew from his lips.

Eron shot to his feet. "I will handle this, Your Highness."

Suddenly, a thunder of footsteps arose in the corridor. Soldiers and guards ran into the Dining Hall falling into a protective stance around the entrances. One of them jogged to Eron.

"What is it?"

"It's the Purple Thief, sir. You won't believe this. She's loose within the palace."

Everyone's jaw dropped, and gasp of horror ricocheted off the walls. But their fear was nothing compared to the one responsible for bringing her into the palace.