I shall travel lightly. I require nothing but room for my one-person carriage and a roof above my donkey's head. You won't be allowing another beggar into your precious country.

As he popped right behind his aunt and uncle, Uncle Tom looked over his shoulder and Sebastian glared right back. Yes, he had come after all, and it wasn't a big deal. He just wanted to know what the surprise was, but before he could ask, Aunt Crystal claimed all of Uncle Tom's attention by whispering something in his free ear.

Lana elbowed him, her grin evident even with her diamond-covered mask on. "You were too curious, weren't you?"

"So what if I was? I'm here so you can all stop whining."

"Lose the attitude, cousin," she tsked. "Regal arrogance is a fine art that you are far from mastering. To quote Alex, you're just being a Muttonhead, and a very bratty one if you ask me."

"I didn't ask but I'm fine with that." He resisted the temptation to turn around and face Alex. The words would sting far more if they came out of her mouth.

Besides, bratty was better than getting dubbed a crybaby. Since late last evening, a soreness had settled in his chest and further up his throat that threatened with waves of uncontrollable tears.

A feast they called it–the Feast of the Dead–yet there was nothing to celebrate. Not when happy memories were fleeting and the bad ones grew stronger in his dreams. Last night he stood by helplessly again as familiar faces sunk deeper into the burning sands of the Scorching Plains until only Abby's bloodshot eyes were left to scream at him.

He still hadn't talked to Nick about her death. The moments they spent together, just the two of them, were scarce and never long enough to mention the unmentionable.

His gut twinged with a sudden urge to pee. Not again. He had already gone twice since coming back from Master Paul's training. When Lady Viviane had been complaining that he was stalling time on purpose, he had emptied his bladder into a bowl to show her that he really had to go.

Really, that shrieking could have been entirely avoided if she had believed him from the start.

"Uncle Tom?" He waited for the man to turn his head. "How long is the ceremony gonna last?"

"An hour, maximum. I'm on strict orders of my daughter to keep my speech short so she has more time to roam the fair. You're not gonna have to wait long to find out what the surprise is, Sebby."

Sebastian huffed. That had been Father's name for him, too intimate to be used by anyone else. "That surprise better be good, Uncle Tommy. To make up for the fair."

"It will be, Sebby. You and your grumpypants will love it."

"We'll see."

"You don't have to, of course. If you prefer returning to your sill to sulk, I'm not gonna stop you."

In the temple, Priest Aurelius in his black-and-white robe greeted them. His long salt and pepper hair bounced up and down as he bowed for all of them, giving the women a kiss on the hand as well.

Sebastian shuddered, his tongue touching his mask. Had he been a woman, he would have never been heir to the throne, but he didn't mind being a man if it meant avoiding uncomfortable kisses from strange mouths.

"The temple is ready if you are." The long sleeves of his robe swayed beneath the priest's bony arms as he gestured at the three high back chairs that stood on each side of the free-standing deep green marble altar. "Gentleman to the right, Ladies to the left, as dictated by the laws of our Gods."

Uncle Tom put his arm around Sebastian's neck. "And Crown Prince next to the King. For the first time in years. I'm glad."

Sebastian snorted, the inside of his mask turning damp. "Was George that bad?"

"The very worst," George proclaimed. "Finally the ceremony is again as it should be."

"Whoo-hoo, Sundale can rejoice." Keeping a stiff upper lip, Sebastian twirled his hand around. He would have rather been in Laneby.

As he sat down in between George and Uncle Tom, he counted the still empty benches. Seventy rows there were at each side of the main aisle, room to seat a total of four thousand people, plus those that would remain standing at the back of the temple.

Roughly ten thousand pairs of eyes would be watching him as soon as the temple servants opened the three enormous white doors.

And Gods. He had to pee.

On the other side of the altar, Alex was taking her seat next to Lana. It was her first time in the temple, and there was much for her eyes to see. He looked up to the elaborate ceiling as well. Painted by the same man responsible for the ceiling in the dining hall, it was a variety of the theme he saw every day: the fourteen Gods, the eternal conflicts between the seven twins.

As small as they appeared on the ceiling as big their statues in the side aisles were. He turned his head from right to left. Pride with arms wide open and a hunched Humility were closest to the altar, then came Kindness with a flock of children and Envy striking them all down with her relentless stare.

Instead of meeting Wrath, he focussed on his lap, his legs shaking with impatience. Uncle Tom laid his hand on his knee. "I know you find it hard. But you can't show them you're nervous. Be strong. It'll be over soon."

"I'm not nervous. I'll pretend it's just Nick sitting there, and then it's not scary."

Uncle Tom patted him twice and nodded. "Good trick. Do that."

Sebastian gazed into nowhere as groups of a dozen people trickled into the temple. At this rate, the whole ceremony would take forever. He had so much better places to be, like the privy.

When he was King, he would change the tradition. The royal family and the General wouldn't come to the temple until the crowd was sitting down on those benches. Far less time for masks to get all wet on the inside and for royal bladders to get all tense.

It seemed an hour had already passed when, at last, the final groups shuffled to a free spot at the back. Fourteen times the bells high up in the temple resounded, announcing the first part of the ceremony.

Seven pairs of toddlers in robes of black or white sneaked into the temple, each carrying a basket as they walked down the side aisles. The children halted at the statue of their corresponding God and presented the offering: a freshly slaughtered lamb for Chastity and Lust. Water for Temperance whereas Gluttony could indulge himself with milk.

Sebastian's eyes sought for Nick, but was unable to find the mop of dark blonde hair in the endless blobs of green masks that dominated around the middle arches of the temple. Why did his friend have to be so small? Even Fox had been taller.

The little girl carrying a pile of books to Diligence tripped over the hem of her oversized robe, the books sliding far on the slippery tiles. One figure stepped away from the green crowd to pick up the book. He hesitated as he handed it back to the already stiffened child.

"Oh Gods, that's Nick, isn't it?" he whispered to Uncle Tom.

"Yeah, he's developing a habit of standing out in a crowd. It's very peculiar and out of character. He's normally so quiet that I tend to forget he lives in my castle."

Just as the long arm of a Serjeant yanked Nick back onto the bench, George added, "At this rate, the kitchen team will have another pair of hands to help peel potatoes this winter."

Sebastian stifled a chuckle. "You have my permission, George. Make him do it. It'll be funny."

"I don't need your permission, Crown Prince. Now, hush, your time to perform is here."

The last two children, carrying golden chalices, didn't stop at the statues of Humility and Pride but stepped up to the altar. Priest Aurelius trailed behind the girl in white robes with a silver dagger on a pillow. He bowed as he presented the dagger to Lana at the same time as the girl kneeled in front of Aunt Crystal.

Blood dripped into the chalice as Lana made a small incision in her mother's finger. The dagger was placed back onto the pillow and the Priest walked to the other side of the altar.

Sebastian shuffled in his seat, his bladder filling further. It was his turn now. A small cut, then Uncle Tom's speech, and then at least this dreadful part of the day would be over. He had no idea yet how he would survive the ball.

The boy in black, who had been standing on the top step, waiting, now approached Uncle Tom and kneeled too. He kept the chalice high above his head.

As Sebastian grabbed the bloody dagger, Priest Aurelius pushed on the chalice, beckoning the boy to keep it a bit lower. The disturbance was long enough for him to stare into the crowd, his eyes searching for Nick again, but not finding the right row.

"This is your cue, Sebby," Uncle Tom whispered. "It can be deep. I've been way too proud this year. Pride's traps are the deepest ones, and we must keep him at bay."

"But I take it His Majesty would like to keep all of his royal fingers, My Lord," Priest Aurelius hushed.

"It'll be fine," he said, mostly to reassure himself. He and Captain Jonathan had practised a couple of times, and not all of his attempts had been fruitful. The Captain had blamed his hard skin, but Uncle Tom could have hard skin too from writing all those letters.

Yet as the silver blade met Uncle Tom's fingertip, deep red blood fell into the chalice. A thin smile formed on his lips as he breathed out in relief, dampening the inside of his mask further.

As a temple servant bathed the cut in brandy, the boy and girl walked down the altar and presented the final offering to Pride and Humility.

If it weren't for his dangerously full bladder, Sebastian would have snoozed through Uncle Tom's speech. He crossed his legs and squeezed them, and although he liked hearing the tales of him and Father as children, they still dragged on, along with that nagging pain in his gut.

"... and thus I ran to Father in full panic because Brandon had convinced me that it was weird that I couldn't see my own eyes. It was one of the rare moment that Father, your late King William, guffawed so much that tears sprung from his eyes." Uncle Tom paused, rubbing his ear for as long as the laughter on the benches lasted. "Death halts in every household, rich or poor, the grief it leaves behind spares none of us. I am like you. I miss the bantering with my brother, the wise advice from my father, and the sweet words of my mother that I can't recall. I have lost sons and daughters before they had the chance to live and regret never meeting my nieces before they were brutally taken away."

Emily and Lucy. A shiver ran through Sebastian as his chest and throat tightened. Though the mask would hide his emotions, he wasn't going to cry. Not in front of those thousands of people. He clenched his fists. He had to be strong. Real men didn't cry.

"Call our Gods cruel, but they give as much as they take," Uncle Tom continued. "They have blessed me with a nephew whom I can teach all I know to keep you safe from harm. It'll be a matter of seasons before he'll beat me in sword fights and challenge my decisions. I do not worry about the future, for when I have traded this life for one in The Heavenly Halls, I am confident that he'll carry on the reign of peace my grandfather established over fifty years ago. This is the golden age, Sundale. It's our time to shine."

Sebastian closed his eyes and blew out the tension of his bladder. Uncle Tom had to wrap it up now. The speech had gone on for far too long already.

As though Uncle Tom had heard his thoughts, he glanced over his shoulder before readdressing the crowd. "As I am fairly certain I've bored Prince Sebastian to sleep now, I officially open the celebrations of The Feast of the Dead. I wish you all another marvellous year with your loved ones, for life's too short to dwell on things that could and should have been. Let us toast on those we have lost, those we hold dear, and above all, our Gods."

He raised the chalice of wine on the altar and drank it under a thunderous applause that echoed through the entire temple and hurt Sebastian's ears.

"George, do we have to wait until they're all gone? I need to pee."

"I'm afraid so. Tradition is tradition."

"O-oh." He sunk his head low. "But I really need to go."

"Think of other things. Relief will come soon."

As Uncle Tom sat down, he edged closer. He knew precisely what to ask to keep his mind occupied. "It's done. It's over. What's my surprise?"

His blue eyes crinkled behind the black swirls. "Patience, Sebby. I'm still not sure you deserve it– the way you treated your Aunt Crystal. I'll tell you when you've apologised to her for acting like a spoiled brat."

"I didn't..." Sebastian pinched his lips together. Maybe he shouldn't have  yelled at her when she had been acting all fussy about him not wanting to take a bath. Nor had she fully deserved his Wrath-fuelled snapping when he had put on the uniform himself instead of letting Lady Viviane do her work. "Alright, alright... I will."

When the temple assistants finally closed the doors, Sebastian hopped off his chair and headed for the other side. He plucked off his mask and rubbed the sweaty liquid from his face. He officially hated masks. "Aunt Crystal?"

"Yes, dear?" She immediately reached for Uncle Tom's hand.

"Erm." He shuffled his feet, unsure of what he should say. "Well... I guess... I... should say... sorry?"

"Hey, hey." Uncle Tom kicked his boot against Sebastian's foot. "Say it again, and this time like you mean it. I can always ask Nick instead."

"But Nick isn't even here." Sebastian narrowed his eyes. What were they going to do?

"It can always be arranged," George said. "I'm taking the girls to the fair anyway, so I could have Nick back in the castle in a jiffy. If I were you, I'd apologise because I'm seeing two very eager ladies who would like to leave."

"Yes, Seb. What are you waiting for?" Lana smiled. 

Behind her, Alex–still wearing her jade green mask–nodded. "Yeah, Muttonhead. Do you want me to knock some sense into you?"

"Fine! I'll do it." Sebastian wrapped his arms around his aunt and rested his chin on her shoulder, turning his eyes all big. "I'm sorry for disobeying you and yelling. You're not my mother, but I like you too."

"Melodramatic, but it's the best I'm gonna get, so I'll take it." She patted his cheek, a silent gesture to say that he could stop the nonsense. "Tell him, Tom. The boy's eager to get his surprise."

And to piss too.

Uncle Tom leant over and cupped his hand around Sebastian's ear. "So... nearly all of our Lieutenants are guarding the fair and the city gates. Most of the servants are either working in the kitchen or preparing the dining hall for the ball. That means nobody patrolling the corridors or running around in the castle with trays."

"We're gonna be all alone." Sebastian gasped.

"Mostly. You've got a sword. I've got a sword. We got an enormous empty throne room. Why don't we duel away from prying eyes–see if you can beat me?"

That was a challenge he could not say no to, and why wait until they had lost George and the girls. He turned to his uncle and grinned, his feet itching to run like he hadn't run in moons. "Let's raise the stakes, Uncle Tom. The last one in the throne room has to eat vegetables tonight."

Uncle Tom pulled up his mask, revealing a look of mischief. "Leave already if you think you can win."