"Your Majesty." Thousand dipped down in a perfect curtsy. "We're honored."

Lucas bowed clumsily, still recovering from his shock. Sloppy, his brother said. Well, what do you expect? No one ever taught me how to bow properly.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Their governess had attempted, plenty of times. But little Lucas kept getting distracted by rainbows, pigeons and particularly shiny rocks – and after a few months, enough was enough.

Miss Hilda hadn't packed her bags, leaving with a storm of insults – no, she knew that sort of dramatic display would ruin any chances she'd have of finding a new job. Instead, she'd simply given him the cold shoulder for the remaining two years (before his father had caught her with one of the guards and fired her on the spot).

It was in moments like these that he regretted not paying more attention. Fortunately, he was impersonating Rodric, Miss Hilda's five-star student. He was pretty sure his brother had only denied his fully-paid scholarship in Isadaro because he disliked the cold.

"The pleasure's all mine," the king replied, though his tone made Lucas uneasy. What if he finds out? After all, the king's intelligence was well-known in every corner of the world. It wouldn't take long to connect his fumbling and lack of poise to all the news headlines claiming 'Lucas Riel is away on a vacation house in Offoro's Landing'.

Every once in a while, he got angry. It wasn't just that his brother got to hide in their private island, enjoying himself, while the world thought he was away; Lucas thought it would only be fair if Rodric had been forced to act like him. (He had to suppress a snicker at the thought.)

But then again... Life isn't fair, Lucas.

"So, Rodric Riel in our esteemed shores, hmm? Why, I thought you hated the cold." The king's tone was playful, but the acrid tang never left. Lucas rehearsed his response in his head one more time before answering.

"I don't care for it, that's true," he replied. "But the weather really is trivial compared to the heart." He looked at Thousand with what he'd imagine his brother's enamored gaze would be like. Not bad, Rodric remarked in his head. Few words, not overly sappy. Well, the intonation could've been better, Lucas added as an afterthought. His brother never handed out a compliment without some criticism in between.

"The heart!" King Ivory exclaimed. "Well, I wouldn't know much about those matters." A few courtiers around them laughed. Lucas had to contain a frown. They would laugh so openly in front of their governor?

Lucas had scarcely seen Emperor Romull II in his lifetime, but he'd dined with the governor of Feyrgania plenty of times. The thick-headed, arrogant Marcus Razberr had nearly no redeeming qualities, save for being dumber than a rock – and thus subject to Gladys' every whim. Noemia usually did the actual manipulating behind the scenes, but the man was so hopelessly in love with Gladys, that there was really not much to do.

In any case, he might be haughty and dull-headed, but Razberr's name still carried some weight among the common people, as Rodric always warned their family. The rabble doesn't care about Aunt Gladys' money. They care that Razberr is the one in power. A misstep could be fatal.

Lucas tried to clear his mind from his family's political discussion. It had been a while since he'd been invited to one of these meetings – well, meetings wasn't quite right, they were more like fancy dinners with such pleasant topics as wine, the weather, and how to take over the province of Feyrgania – but he couldn't help but try to learn as much as he could. Someday, he would impress his brother.

He could already picture it. He would set his wine glass down after a long sip – never mind that he despised the stuff – and carefully plan out a brilliant tactical move, the kind that would put the neighboring province's governor in their debt for years to come. Aunt Gladys would handwave it away, already more drunk than all of them combined, but it would be Rodric that sat down with his calculating face, before announcing that his brother was a genius (his exact words would, of course, be "It's better than I ever could"), leaving Aunt Primrose to sing his praises. Noemia would then cross her arms, her face almost green with envy, and all would be well in the world–

A quick squeeze of their still-clasped hands brought him back to the present. Oh, right, Thousand. King Ivory. The job. Well, that daydream would have to be a bit altered.

"Come, beloved. Let us enjoy the festivities!" Thousand bellowed. Do all people from up here really act so loose all the time? Lucas thought. Oh. Wait. She's not actually from Plumsk.

"Excuse us," he said to the king. Rodric might be 'blinded by love', but that was no reason to be any kinder to Ivory. Thousand had thought this seemed odd, until Lucas explained it would be much weirder if he suddenly spouted 'Oh, we're dreadfully sorry to be going, Your Majesty'.

She'd agreed to that with a small smile – barely there, but it had left Lucas beaming in return.

Thousand guided him to the tables, where servants were already serving plates of appetizers. Lucas stared, baffled, when he saw one of them chatting with a group of ladies, before waving them goodbye with a 'See you later, Kat!"

He worried briefly about being out of character – but no, he realized, Rodric would probably be much more scandalized. So, he exaggerated his shock further, until a side glance from Thousand told him it was beginning to be too much. Right, he's polite above all things, he reminded himself.

"Excuse me? I need to use the bathroom."

Still, he nearly jumped in shock as Thousand spoke. A hand rose to his mouth – and he couldn't tell if it was his brother's hand or his. That would never happen back home. His people were masters of saying things without actually saying them – "Oh, I could go for a little refreshment" usually did the trick, but he was no stranger to even more elaborate euphemisms.

And, of course, the man didn't even bat an eyelash. "It's two doors to the right," he replied. "Hey, I know you! You're that lady that's been making waves with the foreigner. Rosa, right?"

Thousand giggled – such an odd sound coming from her that Lucas had to double-check what he was hearing. "Oh, personally I'm not one for drama. Love is love, after all." The guard laughed and let her through.

Love is love, after all. Only he knew what the phrase really meant.

Money is money.

He had to blink several times to get rid of the knot in his throat. Suddenly, it hit him that he would probably never see Thousand again after the job was over.

And I still don't even know her name. He'd made some progress, though. Thousand's real personality was just beginning to shine through. If only he had a little more time...

"We'll meet again!" Thousand sauntered off down the hallway. The servant laughed, assuming it was a joke. But Lucas knew the real meaning, the one they'd agreed upon. I did my research on the palace layout. There's a closet where they keep the servants' spare uniforms, and it's not too far from the ladies' bathrooms. I'll disguise myself as a servant and sneak into the kitchens. It's your job to keep the king entertained.

The kitchens? What for? he'd asked. Rodric had promised there was no murder involved. But he trusted Thousand, and sure enough she'd reassured him they wouldn't be killing the king. This poison is another thing entirely.

So, he bid his time, striding toward the king's table with Rodric's careful grace.

"You're back," Ivory immediately said, his expression unreadable. "Separated from your beloved already?" He shared an amused look with one of the other noblemen. Is he making fun of me, or is this a political threat? Darn it. I did not agree to playing Noemia's games!

"I don't believe I have to inform the king when Rosa is refreshing herself," he replied, keeping his tone playful. "Correct me if I'm wrong, though," he added, satisfied when one of the noblemen laughed.

"You're amusing, Riel." He sipped his glass of wine – good, it meant he would get it refilled often – before continuing. "Look, I don't want to ruin what you have with Lady Rosa. It's obvious you're in love with her."

Lucas nearly spat out his wine, for some stars-forsaken reason. This is good! It means my acting is good. My acting is good. My acting.

He stayed silent. It was hard to admit it, but he genuinely didn't know what Rodric would do in this situation. The king was known to be forward with his motives – but it was one thing to hear it in the telecom. To be in the presence of his unapologetic, blunt remarks was another thing entirely.

"If this turns out to be some kind of scheme from your family, though," – he took another sip before resuming – "I will be, let's say... quite perplexed." His smile was subtle, but it was there, in all its vaguely threatening glory.

Fortunately, this was the part he'd rehearsed the most. "It's quite insulting to me that you would think that." He leaned in, glaring at the king –  with his carefully practiced Rodric glare (that he'd been subject to far too many times). "They were all dead to me the moment Gladys wrote those headlines."

Thousand had made sure the king knew what fake headlines he was talking about. 'Rodric Riel caught with a FOREIGNER in this SCANDALOUS night!' the typical one went. Lucas thanked every star in the sky there were no pictures included.

"Very well." The amused look never left King Ivory's eyes. "I see you're deeply caught up in your passion."

Lucas felt his face heat up, and did his best to disguise it with a shrug. Had his language been too strong? What if the job failed? 'Dead to me' wasn't something people usually bounced back from.

Then again, Rodric could always claim she'd bewitched him. Simply accuse her of witchcraft, Old Gods worship, or anything the like – 'Lady Rosa' would be off the radar, and his brother would go back to his normal life. It occurred to him that schoolchildren were always taught the Empire had a fair trial for every criminal. Well, not when you're an enemy of the Riel family, Lucas snickered, in his mind. That should be, like, a clause in the law. 'All trials are fair except if Aunt Gladys hates you.'

His amusement abruptly stopped when he thought of how Azure must be doing. This is exactly the kind of joke she'd make, he realized. Oh, how he wished they could be friends. But that just wasn't how things worked in their world.

He was, once again, jolted from his thoughts when the king spoke.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to have a duck with you, Riel?" he asked. "I was overly fond of ducks as a child. Kidnapped one and named it Princess Patootie."

Lucas raised an eyebrow, and he heard some of the nearby people suppress a laugh. What is happening?

"It's true," he continued. "I would take her everywhere with me. To dinner, to bed. To the bathroom." He hid his mouth with his hand and waggled his eyebrows. At this point, some courtiers were full-on laughing.

Just what did Thousand do to his wine?