When Matteo politely knocked on Millicent's door and informed us that "a man named Lord Corvielto wishes to see you at the main doors, M'lord," I flew into a panic.

What was Lord Vascanta doing here?!

I frantically brushed past Matteo and up the stairs to the room with my wardrobe. I was in no way presentable to the high noble in my undershirt and skin-tight stockings. A part of my mind protested when I revealed my disorganized state to Matteo, but looking presentable to a lord was much more important than to my own servant.

When I reached my wardrobe, I grabbed the nearest doublet and fumbled to slip it on. Millicent, who had followed me, helped me pull it over my head. I slipped on nice stockings and ran back down the stairs.

At this point, I assumed that my father was either not home or passed out drunk. I was making an incredible amount of noise.

I rushed to the door, brushing myself off and straightening out my hair. As I pulled the door handle open, my other hand pulled at my doublet.

Standing at the couple of steps leading to our double-doors was the amber-eyed Vascanta.

He was a disaster.

Vascanta's midnight black hair was strewn all over his head. His red jerkin was completely missing, but the brown one he tore from Arodath's body was still clutched tightly in his white-knuckled hand. He was soaking wet with large blotches of mud staining his doublet and hose.

"Lord Vascanta?" I asked incredulously.

Vascanta blinked at me and said, "Who on earth is Lord Vascanta?"

My mind came to a halt. What was he talking about...? Maybe he's just confused. He's still drunk, I reminded myself. He was probably just delusional through the alcohol and trauma.

As Vascanta sat there dumbly, my manners finally caught up to me. "Lord Vascanta! Please, you can come in." I said quickly. "You can stay here until you... recover." I opened the door wider, motioning for him to walk through.

Vascanta just stood there, still staring at me with a sad look in his eyes. I promptly grabbed his elbow and pulled him inside. As I shut the door behind us, I thought of any room he could use that my father was least likely to check. I decided on one of my fairly unused ones in the back of the house.

As I led Vascanta through the house by the elbow, I ran into Matteo. "Matteo, try to dissuade my father from going into my back room if you see him," I whispered to him quickly. The serving man nodded with a little grin on his face. I whisked Vascanta away hastily.

I swung open the door to the superbly kept room before remembering that Vascanta was dripping wet. I pulled him into the nearest bathroom and began struggling to get his doublet off. I was incredibly thankful that Vascanta was nowhere near sober enough to remember this, so all awkwardness that arose from the situation would hopefully be forgotten.

After his doublet I hesitated at his hose. It was stained with mud and downright filthy and it needed to come off, but my mind instantly recoiled at the thought of trying to help him with them. Not just because of my own embarrassment, but because it felt like an nonconsensual invasion of Vascanta's personal space.

Thankfully, Vascanta seemed to be self-aware enough to help himself out. He moved to pull the hose off and struggled with stepping out of them for a moment before I crouched down and helped get it off of his feet. I quickly stood up again and placed the hose on the countertop.

The high noble hadn't said a word through the whole thing. When I reached for the torn vest he clutched, he didn't loosen his grip. I wasn't in the mood to try to convince a drunk, traumatized man to cooperate, so I allowed him to keep holding it.

Vascanta stood as I laid out his wet clothing on a polished counter to dry. Once I finished, I grabbed a few spare blankets and I led him back to the room.

I tossed the few extra covers I snatched from the washroom onto the mattress and sat Vascanta on the bed. In his undershirt and loose leggings, he stared at me with a blank expression.

I took a step back and spoke slowly. "Hey, so... you just stay here for the night, okay? Don't worry about it, my family is happy to host for you," I lied amicably. "Just, uh, sleep well! And, uh, don't leave until I come and get you, okay?" Even though I was sure he wouldn't remember my words, I felt the need to tell him so if he did do something unwanted, I couldn't blame myself for withholding the request from him in the first place.

As I exited the room, Vascanta didn't move from his spot. As I began to pace toward the staircase to my room, I considered the fact that he would be terribly hungover in the morning.

I quickly made a trip to the kitchen and picked up an empty waste bucket and a glass of water. Carrying both things back to the room, I hesitantly nudged open the door again.

Vascanta was laying down on the bed now, and I saw the bister vest had slipped to the floor. His eyes were open, but he didn't acknowledge my presence.

I placed the waste bucket next to the head of the bed, hopefully in Vascanta's view, and the glass of water in the center of the nightstand. Vascanta hadn't moved or made a sound. I picked up the jerkin on the floor and placed it on a chair before showing myself out.

I considered locking the door, but the minuscule possibility of a fire started by candles was enough to stop me.

I went to Millicent's room first to tell her that Vascanta was staying at our house for the night. She nodded and hugged me goodnight. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and wished her sweet dreams.

While I slipped my clothing off, I absentmindedly pondered what would need to happen when my father returned. The house was a mess from Vascanta and I parading through it with muddy shoes and wet clothing... I could only pray that our servants would clean it up before my father returned.

Practically collapsing on the bed was a bliss; feeling the ever-present ache in my shoulders and neck begin to disperse. I fell asleep quickly.

I woke up sluggishly while the events of the previous day rushed back at me. Fresh emotions surged through my mind.

Lord Arodath was dead. I had seen his body when Vascanta pulled me over to check on his friend, a broken look in his amber eyes. I remembered the whispers in my head of that could've been me, and I'm glad it wasn't me. I'm glad it wasn't me, I repeated to myself in my head.

I curled in on myself underneath my heavy blankets. I should have been feeling guilty, and I should have been feeling incredible despair, but all I could think at the moment was it could've been me, I'm glad it wasn't me like a mantra in my head.

I slowly pondered the fact that I'd never see Arodath again. I never felt close with Arodath or Vascanta, for that matter, but there was a very odd chilling sensation that accompanied the knowledge that someone I knew actually died. In an attack on our kingdom, no less. I had never expected to ever experience something of such a dramatic magnitude in my life, and I honestly wished that I never did.

Oh, and the position he left. Nobles everywhere will be grabbing for it, I thought. Father will explicitly expect me to grab for it, and if I don't succeed, I can guess that he won't be happy.

He also won't be happy if he sees the stains that I left throughout the house!

That thought got me moving quickly. I needed to see whether the floor was clean. If the servants didn't cleaned the hallways, I could be prepared for the possible wrath of my father.

After hastily dressing myself to presentability, I hurried down the stairs. To my immense relief, the stains in the carpet were gone. I mentally gave my overwhelming appreciation to Matteo, Cholette, and Kora for their work overnight. I knew I'd have to thank them properly later.

I just hoped that my father wouldn't find Vascanta in his disheveled state...

Oh, God, I reflected for a second time today. Vascanta is still in our house!

I sprung back into a quick stride and rushed to the back room I had left for Vascanta.

Quickly approaching it, I hesitated when I grabbed the handle. What if Vascanta was changing... or something? I figured it better to knock.

Silence followed my gentle rap on the door. After a few seconds of my growing panic of what to do, I heard a groan from the other side of the door. Concern overtook my anxiety and I slowly opened the door.

Vascanta was face-up on the bed. His eyes were squeezed shut and his black hair was splayed across the pillow. The heavy blanket of the bed covered his lower body. The vomit on the floor by the bed quickly caught my eye.

I inwardly cringed as I remembered ho hungover he must be. I frowned slightly upon seeing the that vomit had missed the waste bucket. I considered the fact that Vascanta might need to stay in the room a little longer as his mind returned to its normal state. All I could do was pray that my father wouldn't come back here...

Vascanta turned his head in my direction upon my entrance. I straightened my posture and politely asked, "How are you doing, Lord Vascanta?"

"How do you think?" he snapped grumpily. "My head is pounding, my stomach is trying to expel everything I've ever put into it, and I can't think about anything at all without feeling like I'm about to explode. Other than that, I'm absolutely wonderful!" He blinked his amber eyes slowly, squinting at me. "And how are you doing on this fine morning?"

Despite my overwhelming inability to deal with sarcasm, I felt relieved that he was acting more or less normal. "Probably better than you are," I admitted timidly, allowing a small hint of jest into my voice.

Vascanta just glared daggers at me, so I hastily excused myself to retrieve his clothing from the washroom. They had dried nicely while sitting out, even if they were still a little damp. I smoothed out the wrinkles in the doublet as I carried it back toward the room.

I placed his clothing neatly at the foot of the bed. Vascanta sat up and mellowly sipped at the glass of water I left last night.

I turned toward the chair of which Arodath's vest rested on and winced. I gingerly picked it up so as to not rip it even more and brought it over to the bed where Vascanta sat. The nobleman still seemed to be fixated on staring off into nothing.

I looked down at the vest nervously. I might as well take care of the elephant in the room, I figured, albeit nervously. "Lord Vascanta... I wanted to offer my condolences for what happened last night. I understand that Arodath was—"

"What? Wait, stop. Stop. What happened last night?" I snapped my mouth shut when Vascanta interrupted me. His brow was furrowed and he made to stand, but was clearly not feeling well enough and stumbled to sit back down on the bed.

I blinked in surprise for a moment. Vascanta didn't...? He didn't remember. Of course he didn't remember. He was drunk.

My mouth gaped open for a few moments. How on earth could I tell him? A close friend of his... He saw Arodath's dead body, and he doesn't remember. That's why he was making jokes as if nothing was wrong.

Oh, God.

"Lord Vascanta..." I said slowly, looking at the brown jerkin I clutched. "Do you remember what happened last night? At Arodath's party?"

I could feel Vascanta's demanding stare on me, so I looked back up to meet his eyes. They were a blazing red-golden color and were staring back at mine. His cheeks and nose were covered by a harsh, beet-red blush from the hangover. Truly taking the time to gaze at Vascanta, I noticed a few little dimples and freckles scattered across his face and a messy wave of hair across his forehead. A few blades of black hair stuck out in different directions, a single strand resting on his flushed cheeks. His loose, gray shirt sat nicely on his strong collarbone, along with the baggy green pants that revealed his muddy ankles and feet.

His face was pulled into a grimace. His cheekbones were outlined by the pull of the muscles in his face while he frowned. I stared at his coral lips as they parted for a moment before he spoke softly. "Tell me," he whispered. I could only barely hear the sharp sound of the 't' as the rest of his words faded into his breath.

I felt a cold sting climb up my spine, the skin of my neck tingling as if the room had dropped tremendously in temperature. "At Arodath's party..." The silence was so prominent, so dense in the air I was so afraid to cut through it with my words. "The Cornotans attacked." I barely spoke. My words were mostly air.

Vascanta's head snapped into a series of nods and then into side-to-side shakes. His amber eyes squeezed shut. I thought that he was on the verge crying, but I couldn't tell because of the red blush already on his cheeks from the hangover.

"I'm... I remember, now." Vascanta gasped out, still not looking up at me.

I immediately felt culpable for no clear reason. Thick guilt swelled in my chest. I instantly wanted to comfort him in the same way that Millicent comforted me. I wanted... I wanted someone to appreciate me just as much as I appreciated my little sister in my own time of need. I wanted to help him... because I wanted to be appreciated in his mind.

I slowly sat down next to Vascanta, hesitantly acting like he was a frightened animal about to bolt. The mattress languidly dipped under my weight. A sudden flare of panic rose in my mind when I considered placing my hand on his back like Millicent had done with me; would Vascanta appreciate that? Or would it be too awkward? I decided against it just in case.

I froze up again when I tried to think of something to say. What on earth was I supposed to say? "I'm sorry," I started slowly, figuring that was a good place to start. "Arodath was a good man... he deserves to be happy in the afterlife." I figured it wouldn't be best to say that Arodath didn't deserve to die, because that would have been the stinging reminder of what happened.

I pondered saying that he was loved by many, but decided against it since it would only bring Vascanta grief over Arodath's sister, Cezette. A new wave of worry took me over when I thought of her. I wondered if she was at the party when the attack occurred... was she okay?

"I'm sure that—"

"Benevento." Vascanta's voice interrupted me, and while it was deep and steady, it was laced with grief and strain. I immediately stopped talking. "Benevento... there's something... there's something else that happened last night."

I listened intently and without interruption, a little part of my curiosity piqued.

"After the party, I went to the castle. Well, eventually I went to the castle. I was drunk out of my mind, and some guards picked me up and took me to the king. I think I told him something incredibly insulting." He winced, taking a deep breath. "I think I've been banished."

I felt a stinging shock accompanied by a cold realization in my chest. If he was really banished... He would be a fugitive in my house. If anyone found him, my image would be ruined. My father would kick me out. I knew that I should have been mad, but I only felt incredibly sorry. If I was banished from the country, my entire life would be in tatters. I would have nothing, and I would be nothing. Vascanta probably felt absolutely horrid. I immediately understood that he must have not been in his right mind when he had said those things to the king.

"You weren't yourself when you did that," I tried to console him. "You just wandered to the castle on accident and probably felt very frustrated."

He winced, then put his hands on his temples, pressing with a grimace. "I think... Oh, dear. I did tell you, didn't I? At the party."

"You were drunk," I reminded him gently.

"No— no, I accidentally told you something." He took a deep breath, shaking slightly. "I didn't wander to the castle by accident. I was doing my job." He exhaled sharply, as if he'd just told me a piece of incredibly important information.

I paused a moment, trying to connect something with what Vascanta said. I couldn't think of anything. "I'm afraid I don't understand," I admitted.

"As soon as the party—well, you know—I went to your house." Thinking back to the night, I slowly remembered seeing black hair through the window. Vascanta continued, "I heard that it was your father who was pushing you to become a high noble, and you weren't going to commit treason."

I blinked in surprise. Had Lord Vascanta had thought I was going to commit treason? Why would he think that? I furrowed my brow slightly as I continued to listen.

"I think I was glad," he said. "But it's hard to know what I was feeling then. Anyway, I went to tell the king you were innocent, and I—"

"What?" I exclaimed, shocked. I closed my eyes and shook my head, bringing my hands up for a moment. "Wait, wait, wait. Why were you telling this to the king?"

He cringed visibly. "I'm not a nobleman, Benevento. I never was. I was a merchant class traveling actor, until the king decided I was good enough to run a mission for him. My name is Casdin."

I could feel my brain screech to a halt and begin racing immediately after. Vascanta wasn't... Vascanta...? His name wasn't Vascanta? That was a lie? He was on a mission for the king?

Vascanta (Casdin?) was staring at me, trying to determine my reaction. Something cold coiled in my gut. "Explain." I wanted to say more, but I couldn't bring myself to through my constricting windpipe. I stared back into his flaming amber eyes. He looked away.

"I'm a spy. I was sent by the king to spy on you." Vasc- Cas-? Casdin said bluntly, clearly not sensing the storm brewing in my mind.

"Why?" I managed again. I was shocked out of words. Boiling anger was beginning to cloud my vision and strain my windpipe. Why would the king want to spy on me?

Casdin—Casdin, what a name—shrugged nonchalantly. Like it was nothing. "He was just—you seemed very ambitious to him, so he wanted reassurance that you didn't have any other motives for trying so hard to become a high noble. It wasn't a big deal—"

I shot to my feet before he could finish the sentence. I was frozen in place for what, for the third time this week? My feet were anchored to the ground and I could only see darkness behind my closed eyelids.

I heard Casdin stand up next to me. Casdin. Not Vascanta. Vascanta never truly existed, did he? There was no man named Vascanta. The only man with any connection to the word was the liar standing behind me.

"Benevento, it's okay now, I told the king that you were fine, he's not—"

I couldn't help myself from seeing red. "Ah, yes!" I announced loudly, venom lacing my words. I began making my way around the bed and to the door. "It's simply okay. Days of lying and spying are entirely forgivable as long as the good spy told the king that I'm not going to stab him in the back."

I stopped at the doorway and looked back at Casdin. He had not moved, but was looking at me with wide eyes and a shocked look on his face. His cheeks still had the pink blush on them.

"Good morning and a good day to you, Casdin." I couldn't stop myself from spitting out the name like it was a curse word.

I closed the door a little bit too harshly as I left. I couldn't find it in me to care. I had tolerated Vascanta. The man had come to my rescue in my time of need, and I did the same for him. I pulled him from Arodath's crumbling home as his drunken mind worked against him. I stopped him from getting himself killed when he ran at Cornotan soldiers in a drunken haze.

I had begun to tolerate Vascanta, and I had even started to admire his bravery.

Not Casdin. In my mind, Casdin was just a liar.