Frey's pillow order had been disrespected.

Perhaps Marius had thought he was joking back when he explained his elaborate thought process, but why would Frey joke about something like that?

Because look at him now. Lying uncomfortably on the floor with only one leg still up on the bed.

The bed where no rectangular, blue, somewhat dense pillows had been crammed in under the mattress to keep Frey from rolling off. No pillows had been crammed in under there at all. He'd been left defenceless against the treacherous bed in cahoots with the floor that seemed to exist purely to make Frey's back miserable.

And of course, he knew who was to blame.

"Marius!" It had been a while since he'd had to raise his voice to a scolding-servants-volume, but it had always proven effective, so now all he had to do was wait.

It still took an undesirable amount of time, and Frey glared at the ceiling. He could get up, of course, but he wanted Marius to see the damage he'd done, so he'd suffer for a bit longer.

"That was impressive," Marius said as he finally entered the room with a tray in hand. "I was all the way in the ki—"

He looked down at Frey on the floor, uttering a low 'hm' before daring to speak up.

"I think I can guess what this is about."

"You think?"

"I didn't think you'd actually fall out," Marius tried to defend himself in vain. "Most of your pillow placements are unnecessary, so I assumed the ones under the mattress were as well. It's not like you're a sleeping rolling pin."

"Unnecessary?" Frey narrowed his eyes further, and Marius sighed.

"You got a stiff neck from keeping your balcony doors open during the night once. When you were twelve. Your balcony doors aren't even open now but you still need to pile up an extra fluffy down pillow wall to stop potential drafts?"

"Well, why risk it?"

"And you were worried about someone jumping out of the wardrobe in that corner when you were six." Marius pointed at an empty wall. "So you built a round, periwinkle cushion wall to cover that as well, but even if you'd still been scared, you don't even have a wardrobe there anymore."

"I didn't say anything about your one pillow at your place, so I don't need to hear your opinions on this either." Frey pouted. "Also, I noticed you moved the pillow above my head yesterday, but I didn't even say anything."

"We've been here for almost two months and you've been fine. What are the odds that you'll keep accidentally bang your head against the headboard that often?"

"Higher than if I wouldn't keep a pillow there."

"Well, perhaps it was for the best that you woke up, anyway," Marius suggested before bringing the tray over. "I was just about to wake you. Figured you'd want some time to get ready before we go."

"I suppose." Frey still pouted, but nodded at the tray containing his breakfast. "And thanks."

"I was gonna go down to the river to take a bath." Marius helped him up from the floor after putting the tray down. "I can wait for you if you want to join me."

Frey suppressed a shudder, recalling the last time they tried bathing in the river and how he'd learned that summer did not equate warm water.

"I'd like to give the sun a chance to heat it up." He picked up a hand mirror from the nightstand to inspect his chin. "And I think I'll shave first, anyway."

"I was thinking about that earlier." Marius gestured from Frey's chin and down over his body. "That you haven't shaved in a while, even though you were so fond of it before."

Frey wrinkled his nose.

"Well, people always preferred me to look... Young." He shrugged, trying not to think about it too much. "But it's different now."

He met Marius' look of discomfort in the mirror.

"You know, you don't have to shave."

"But I do, because I want to," Frey assured him, still not thrilled about the topic while gently tapping his scar. "It barely grows on this side, so it looks off."

"And maybe a beard would be too much, with everything else going on." Marius tapped his own nose, and Frey wrinkled his. He would disregard the casual treatment of his scar as an accessory, but Marius bringing up the new additions to his face seemed unnecessary.

"Noah is going to let me hear it when we get there," he muttered, running a hand over the freckles on his cheeks as if it was possible to wipe them off. "I've commented on his complexion so many times over the years, and then it turns out I just needed a little sun to look like him."

"I think it's cute," Marius insisted. "And if anything your skin looks healthier."

"Maybe they'll go away if I stay away from the sun until we get there."

Marius snorted.

"We leave for South Kerilia later today."

"I can dream, can't I?"

"It's cute," Marius repeated, joining Frey's side to look in the mirror as well. "So what about me? Do I need a shave?"

Frey winced as Marius kissed his cheek as if to deliberately prick his skin with his stubble.

"A trim, perhaps, but I don't mind you letting it grow." He gave them both another look in the mirror. "And we could both use a haircut."

"No time for that today." Marius ruffled Frey's hair, getting a light whack on the head in response. "Eat your breakfast so we can get going."

Frey gave the near empty bed a glance.

"I'm going to restore my poor pillows to their rightful place first."

Marius' shoulders dipped.

"Of all the time consuming things. We're leaving today, not three days from now."

Frey ignored the criticism, picking up an apple from the tray to inspect it.

"Did you already leave the horses at the Fjærhaugs?"

"Yes, and yes I gave them apples as well, so you can rest assured I'm not treating you better than your horses."

"That's enough attitude from you." Frey picked up a pillow to shove it into Marius' arms. "If you've already eaten I suggest you get started with the pillows."

"There's no chance in the worlds that I'll get it right."

"Well you need to learn." Frey took a bite of the apple, face scrunching up as the sourness effectively murdered his salivary glands. "These are not ripe."

Marius blew raspberries while walking around the room to pile up pillows.

"Apologies, Your highness, but it's that or no apples." He stumbled as the pile of pillows almost toppled over in his arms. "And they were good enough for the horses, so don't be picky."

Frey turned his attention to the sandwiches instead. Their baking had gone through some improvement over the weeks, so they couldn't be that bad.

"Is your mother already there, by the way?" Marius tossed the pillows around on the bed, trying to recall which one belonged where. "And are your sisters coming?"

"While my mother and sisters haven't attended every year, the twins are turning eighteen this time and Noah is South Kerilia's future town chief so naturally they should be there to celebrate."

"Why is eighteen a big whoop?" Marius shrugged. "It's not like they're actually adults. In Zestrei you're not considered an adult until twenty-three."

"Well with that in mind our age gap suddenly sounds bigger." Frey made a face, being reminded of another worry on the topic. "But... On a more serious note, I need to talk to Noah."

Marius looked as though he was about to make a comment that of course he needed to talk to Noah since they were celebrating his birthday, but he thought better of it.

"It's the whole 'adult' part." Frey felt sickness spreading in his throat. "It makes him fair game for everyone, and I'm worried people might be looking to replace me."

Marius' face wrinkled in disgust.

"And you wanted to be part of that soci—"

"This is not the time." Frey scowled. "I need to get to him before others do. Sickening as it is, I don't trust them for a minute. Not even on this first day."

"And... Is Lady Cromwell aware of this? Couldn't she make sure he's safe if you tell her?"

In all honesty it was likely Lucius could keep Noah safe. Arguably a little too well. While Frey didn't mind violence towards the scourgefucking high society scum he also knew from experience that if Lucius found out someone was trying to harm his son he would be pleased as punch to turn the birthday into a maggot feast before midnight, and the political situation in South Kerilia would take an undesirable turn.

"... I think maybe I'll talk to Damien first."

***

Despite their attempt to arrive in time for the party, it was already evening when they reached the street Marius lived on. The people waiting for them were in no position to complain however, and it was debatable if they would regardless, so it was hardly a surprise that Annarósa and Esther beamed at them as usual when stepping out of their carriage.

"Thank you so much for taking care of her." Annarósa handed an equally cheerful Ingrid to Marius, who looked no less excited. "We'll come pick her up as soon as the party is over."

"And you're... Certain you'll be fine here?" Frey had to ask, not knowing what answer he was expecting as Marius nodded.

"I like to think eight nieces and nephews have prepared me to take care of one child for one evening," he reminded Frey. "Besides, I'm still not allowed back at the mansion."

Frey knew that. He didn't have any other suggestions on how to sneak Marius in there either, but he wished he wouldn't have to go without him.

"Don't worry," Annarósa tried to cheer him up as they walked back to their carriages. "We'll be there, so you're not alone."

"I know." Frey smiled weakly. As much as his sister's words were comforting, he wasn't so sure how they could help him.

The next stop by the BBT mansion was not as cheerful as the first one, and Frey gave Valdís' judgemental look an apologetic grimace.

He noted that even Esther, who originally stemmed from Wyrmdon, had joined in on their matching, West Kerilia-patterned attires in pale green and beige. It was a calming little gesture, showing how they really were all in it together.

"Took a little longer than we thought." He added signs to his words so his youngest, also judgemental, sister who stood next to their mother could join in on the scolding if so inclined. "But Ingrid is with Marius so we're ready now."

"Maybe he should have come so he could punch more people," Sigveig suggested, and though Frey appreciated the validation of Marius' actions, he had to frown at Sigveig's signing.

"What's that sign?"

Sigveig looked smug and held up her hand to sign an 'M' before opening and closing the thumb.

"Mother told me about the hand puppet, and it seemed like a fitting sign for him."

Frey threw a less appreciative glance at his mother, who had already looked away to avoid it.

"Let's head inside then."

There was no way the twins could agree to the crowd that had gathered inside the building. Luna hated people, possibly even more than Frey did, and while Noah loved people he was easily overwhelmed and the odds of them knowing even half the crowd were miniscule. It had to be suffocating.

On Frey's part, he'd almost forgotten how people liked to stare at him. His absence over most of the summer did not help either.

The rest of his family had already scattered as he looked over his shoulder. Valdís had been trapped by acquaintances who looked genuinely happy to see her, while Sigveig, Annarósa and Esther had joined a younger crowd of women by the entrance.

It was just as well. He needed to talk to Noah alone, so he strode forward to search the crowd. He politely greeted those who dared to welcome him back, engaging in as brief of a small talk as manageable before pushing his way further into the main hall.

At last he spotted him, as expected surrounded by familiar vultures of the lordly kind, but fortunately not Carrigan. They were much less of a threat at least, so Frey only needed a sharp clearing of his throat and a look suggesting they evacuate Noah's personal space so he could invade it himself.

An impressively dressed for once Noah blinked in confusion as the small gathering scurried off, but brightened up as he spotted Frey.

"Oh, you made it." He squinted. "And you have—"

"Yes, freckles. Also, happy birthday and so on." Frey made a circling gesture with his hand. "But listen, seeing how things are already in motion, before this evening goes any further I thought I should warn you."

"Warn me?" A wrinkle formed between Noah's eyebrows, but he held on to his smile.

"I just don't want you to mistake those men's kind words for actual kindness." Frey made a discreet nod in Lord Felek's direction. "They're not actually interested in you as a person."

Not even a person lacking social skills could mistake Noah's darkening expression as him valuing what Frey had to say, so Frey had to smooth things over.

"That's nothing ill towards you," he clarified. "No matter how pleasant or good you are at things, they're not going to care."

"Why wouldn't they care?"

"Because..." Frey made another vague gesture. "... Despite your gloomy presence and vague personality you're young, and you're boyishly cute, and that's what they want."

Noah narrowed his eyes at him for a second.

"But this is not something ill towards me?"

"Just trust me on this, Noah." Frey clenched his jaw. "I know them better than you, and I know their morals and lack thereof."

After a moment of offended silence, Noah relented with a slow nod that Frey did not buy for a second.

"Good, and happy birthday again," he still said, but immediately set off to find other means of protection. Why was he going so out of his way for this? He was there to find those aforementioned lords' weaknesses and yet he was focusing this much on Noah?

But he knew what they were capable of, and Noah did not have the capacity to set boundaries, especially if people were paying attention to him for once.

"What's going on?" Valdís joined his side while he threw another look at Noah from afar. Fortunately it seemed as though the swarm of scum had retreated for the time being and he'd instead been joined by his childhood friend, Alexei, which was an infinite improvement.

"Just keeping an eye on Noah."

"I'm certain plenty of people have their eyes on young Lord Hargreaves." Valdís raised an eyebrow. "It's his birthday, after all."

"That's what I'm worried about." Frey let a scowl shine through. "Our dear, upper class lords have a fondness for young men, and now that he's eighteen they can barely wait."

Valdís wrinkled her nose accordingly.

"They wouldn't stoop that low, would they?"

Frey gave her a look, and she let out a reluctant, disgusted sigh.

"You're right," she conceded, but a troubled frown accompanied the words. "Has... It happened before?"

It was not a conversation Frey was ready to have, so he shrugged it off.

"Just a hunch I've gotten over the years."

"Well, you can't keep staring at him all evening either. Remember our plan."

"I'll find time to interrogate people, I just—" Frey interrupted his sentence as he spotted Luna on the other side of the room, doing anything but mingling. "—I need to assign the overseeing to someone else."

"Frey!" Luna looked even happier than Noah to see him, only to make a face as she scanned his face. "You look... Different."

"Freckles, and happy birthday," he summarized, not very impressed with her appearance either, what with the small crinkles in her frock or pinned up bangs having partially fallen down to cover her forehead. "I have a request."

"On my birthday?"

"And Noah's birthday, and that's who I need help with."

Luna was without a doubt disappointed, but directed it more towards Noah than Frey.

"What does that pox-face need this time?"

"I think in light of my own freckles we should retire that nickname," Frey had to address first of all. "But what I need is you looking after your brother so no repulsive old lords try to use him now that he's, as far as law is concerned, an adult."

Luna tilted her head, causing another lock of hair to loosen from her hairdo.

"And you're not worried that might go for me as well?"

Frey couldn't stop a laugh from escaping.

"If someone dares to come close enough I'll consider it, but I'm rather certain if someone made unwanted advances you would latch on and bite them until they run off."

Luna couldn't decide whether she should look offended or proud, so she settled on disgruntled.

"If it was that easy I wouldn't have a fiancé."

"But all that aside, please..." Frey went for the devastating blow. "... If not for him, then for me?"

Luna curled her lip before performing a sceptical, alarmingly long 'mmm' sound, but she ended it with a relenting groan.

"Fine."

"Good, and happy birthday again."

With that out of the way, Frey could begin his initial goal of digging up dirt. It seemed unlikely he'd have any luck with his old connections, considering Carrigan must have told them what had happened between the two of them, so he had to take another approach.

"Spouses," he mumbled to himself as he scanned the room for options. Perhaps a disgruntled wife who couldn't wait to get back at an unfaithful husband, or some newly rich addition to the crowd. Someone who'd been tricked into unfair deals, or who had overheard news that Frey was unaware of.

He furrowed his brow, finding Damien standing by a wall far into the room while sipping on a glass of something, and Frey could take a guess at why.

"So..." He joined Damien's side with a fake look of pity. "... Ethan's here?"

"It's the twins' birthday, and a big one... Of course he is." Damien's chilly voice was almost intimidating. Being the highly esteemed man he was, it was not becoming of him to avoid a crowd. "Nice to see you, by the way."

"And how are things here?" Frey cut to the chase. "What news regarding the West and South dilemma?"

"I've stalled, as you asked, but it's getting harder and harder," Damien folded his arms. "I do think we should wait to discuss it until the party is over too, both out of politeness to the twins and also because there are ears everywhere."

"Well, on the topic of Ethan, couldn't he help? Or rather, couldn't his husband help? He's here too, isn't he?"

Damien glared out into the crowd with a small nod.

"I wouldn't trust either of them though. We don't need the help of bloodthirsty, unhallowed creatures."

"Vampires or not, I don't think you should speak about your son like that." Frey gave Damien a reprimanding shake of his head. "And with Captain Vandelay being your son in-law as well as a successful merchant, I'm sure he could pull some strings somewhere."

"No vampires." Damien turned his glare towards Frey. "And as I said, we'll wait until the party is over to discuss things."

It may not have been the wisest decision to strike Damien's nerves, but it was an unconscious habit of Frey's, so he'd had no choice. He instantly forgot about it anyway as his eyes turned in Noah's direction again.

"For Ilara's fucking sake," he hissed as he spotted Carrigan next to him, and he searched the room to give Luna 'the task abandoner' a scalding look while marching over there.

"Oh, Lord Clausson, you did show up after all." Carrigan smirked, not even bothering to comment on Frey's sun-affected appearance other than raising an amused eyebrow. "How are things on the countryside?"

Frey responded with a twitch in the corner of his mouth, but turned to Noah instead.

"Your sister is looking for you. You'd better hurry over before she sets something on fire."

"For real?" Noah's eyes widened, and he looked around.

"Well best not wait to find out."

He shoved Noah the other way before addressing Carrigan.

"Could you not be a spineless creep for once in your life?"

"It's nice to see you too, Frey." Carrigan did not drop his smirk. "How's your stable boy?"

"Longing to throw another punch, I'm sure." Frey exaggerated a smile back to keep up appearances in case someone was looking. "Especially if you're planning on hurting another soul."

"Young Lord Hargreaves?" Carrigan glanced in said person's direction. "How is that any of your business?"

"Because—"

"And even if it was true, how would you stop me?" Carrigan cocked his head. "He can make his own decisions and now that you're not taking your job seriously anymore, I need to look elsewhere for business connections."

"I know you're not interested in any business connections," Frey growled. "How can you be this vile? Wasn't it enough to torment me? Wasn't it enough to sink West Kerilia to that point that led to my father's demise? Your friend's demise?"

"I tried to warn Claus." Carrigan's voice turned cold. "I told him he had to make sacrifices and follow South Kerilia's example to keep up, but he wouldn't listen."

"Because he was an honourable man who wouldn't sacrifice people to make wealthy people wealthier while seeing the poor die in some slum area."

"And see how that turned out."

"I can't believe he was your friend." Frey couldn't mask his disgust anymore. "You never cared about him at all, did you? I'll bet his death wasn't even a bad thing to you. It was more like a welcome surprise."

For once, Carrigan's smile faltered as darkness spilled over his eyes.

"That's not tr—"

"Lord Carrigan."

Valdís appeared by Frey's side, and as quickly as Carrigan had dropped his act, he recovered it in an instant.

"Well, if it isn't Shortcake. How have you—"

"Don't." Valdís did not break eye contact, but couldn't keep herself from twisting the ring around her finger. "And don't act nice with me. I don't have any desire to speak to you longer than I have to, but as much as I loathe it, we do need to talk about the trade, don't we?"

"At a birthday party?" Carrigan laughed it off. "I see you're still a mood killer, unlike Claus who would never let business get in the way of a celebration."

"Good thing he had me by his side to kill the mood when necessary, then." Valdís would not let the mention of Claus shake her.

Carrigan had the nerve to chuckle.

"Because things worked out so well, huh?"

"Carrigan—"

"Just don't worry so much, Valdís," Carrigan interrupted her with a deviously sweet, condescending tone. "I know you're struggling now that he's gone. You were never very socially adept, after all, so winning people over after everything must be hard enough, but if you just leave this whole ordeal to us you won't have to think about that."

"We're not rolling over without a fight." Valdís' folded hands gripped harder around each other. "So don't get comfortable."

"Look, this really is your only option, isn't it?" Carrigan glanced around before delivering another smirk. "Your town is rebuilding and it's a loss for everyone doing business with you, so what do you expect us to do? The fact that we'll profit from taking our business elsewhere is just helping you focus on yourselves, isn't it? It's not our fault you'll have to lower your prices in the long run."

"Everyone has a weakness." The calm in Valdís' voice wavered. "Don't think you're an exception, William."

"Of course not. I wouldn't dream of underestimating little Shortcake and her coddled ankle-biters." Carrigan held up his hands in pretended resignation before looking past the two of them. "Now if you'll excuse me, there are respectable people who wish to talk to me."

He looked no less amused as he sauntered off, and Frey took Valdís' hand.

"Don't let him get to you."

Valdís huffed.

"He's always been like this. I'm surprised that was the best he could do."

She was indeed stronger than him, it seemed, and Frey felt exhaustion creeping up on him. He'd barely been able to do what he came there for, but he had to get away. Just breathe for a moment.

"I'm... Heading up to my room for a bit." His act of indifference appeared out of habit, but Valdís still looked concerned.

"Should I come along?"

"No, I just need some quiet and some air," Frey promised before removing himself from the room.

What a time to be overwhelmed. At this rate the party would be over before he could recover enough to join that suffocating, noisy crowd, much less find the composure to play social games.

Just as he was about to open the door to his room, it was opened from the other side instead and Frey barely managed to back away before it hit him.

"Oh, Lord Clausson!" Haddon looked mortified as he spotted him, head sinking into his shoulders as he prepared for a scolding. "I— I was just... Well, I heard you were back and I thought I'd warm up your room in case you needed to rest."

Frey was not in the mood for snark. He couldn't even think of any, which was strange because it used to be second nature to him, especially when it concerned servants.

"I do, so you assumed correctly." He passed by his valet to enter the room, and Haddon followed him with his eyes.

"So... Is there anything else you need help with before I leave, my Lord?"

"No, I'm heading back down after some rest," Frey dismissed him without another look, but a nagging feeling made him wonder if something was wrong. If something was missing from their interaction.

"Then, just call for me if you change your mind." The valet smiled, beginning to close the door behind him.

"Haddon."

Haddon blinked, uncertain if he'd heard correctly.

"... My Lord?"

Frey turned his head to look him in the eyes, perhaps for the first time ever.

"How have you been?"