Lach stood frozen as the Lord's eyes bore into him. If there was one person he hadn't wanted to not bump into, it was Lord Harrington.

Something red sparkled on the Lord's yellow jacket, and Lach's eyes widened. One of the appetizers had found its way to the velvet fabric and was still sliding down. Lord Harrington's chin tucked in as he followed the horrified look of Lach.

He paused, taking it in, and pearls formed on the stableman's forehead.

Lord Harrington snapped his head up, his features stretching and his lips twitching with the promise of the Sun God's wrath upon Lach.

Lach reached out, ready to wipe away the sinful accident "Lord Harrington-"

"Do not even think of touching me with your filthy hands! You, fatherless son!" The words slashed through him like a sword. The Lord stepped backward, away from Lach's fingers as if they contained all the world's illness. As if he was impure.

Lach's hand paused mid-air as the Lord drew his sharpened sword and spewed, "That's what happens when you are raised by a scumbag thief of a father." He wiped away his jacket with the help of an aghast Lady Harrington, spreading the red stain on his jacket and his face.

Lach's mind drew blank. The words cut deep, and blood leaked to the floor and mixed with the messed up food. "Your mother will work until death to pay for this jacket!" He spat, pushing his wife's hand away, giving Lach that final slash.

Lach's blood turned hot. So hot his whole body boiled like a forgotten pot on scalding fire. "What did you say?" he hissed.

The Lord's eyes widened so much they threatened to pop off their socket. "You dare to answer back?!" He pointed a finger at the tremoring young man.

Lord Harrington's sheer fury lured a circle of guests around them.

"How can a servant talk back like that?" A woman whispered behind a fan.

"Is that how Ornuv servants behave? Shameful." Another one added, fueling Lach's boiling pot.

He knew it. He knew it. He shouldn't have accepted it. These people were all the same. All the same.

Lady Harrington huffed, fanning herself. "Darling, I am going to faint."

But the Lord wasn't done dragging Lach into the mud. A blaze flickered in his eyes. "People like you who don't pay their debts should be on the streets, imploring for breadcrumbs like rats." The crowd gasped, their eyes scrutinizing Lach. His skin prickled, and he wished to disappear into the deep night and never return. "You, your mother, and your brother will spend Winter in the cold streets like the rats you are."

Blood pumped so hard Lach could hear it pulsating in his ears. His grips tightened around the plate, drawing white on his knuckles. "You can't do that after all my father had done for you," he managed through clenched teeth.

Lord Harrington scoffed. "What had he done besides being a thief?!"

The plate tremored. "He was not a thief!" Lach's voice blasted through the crowd, and the musicians stilled their instruments as the music slowly died.

Now it seemed like a thousand pairs of eyes were scrutinizing him.

The Princess snapped her head to the side. "Oh, Sun God," she drawled out as her eyes widened.

"What's going on?" Lily asked, searching in the crowd.

The King stopped mid-conversation with his First Hand, Lord Virwan.

Commander's Zarkus eyes scanned the crowd before they narrowed upon seeing the stableman.

Lord Harrington's eyes narrowed before his thin, crusty lips moved slowly, articulating every word. "He. Deserved. What. Happened. To. Him."

The plate dropped on the floor in a destructive clash, the appetizers painting the marble floor a rainbow. A tight fist headed towards Lord Harrington's smug but fearful face while Lady Harrington's screams rose in the background. But before Lach could feel the satisfying crack of his bones getting crushed, something stopped the collision midway.

Lach glanced to the side. The man in red uniform decorated with dozen medals he had seen at the gates earlier englobed his balled fist over his palm.

"Gentlemen. Come on. Is that how we party in Ornuv?" The man questioned, with a suave voice as if he were interrupting a quarrel between two neighbors.

"Prince Ezri," Lord Harrington bowed down. Murmurs floated around them before his eyes turned fiery. "This street rat was about to attack me!" Lach bared his teeth. "He is a thief like his father! He owes me a lot of money-"

"Can I remind you, Lord Harrington, of your visit to Mias?" The Prince asked nonchalantly.

The Lord's face drained of his color before he cleared his throat. "This is a matter for another day."

The Prince hummed. "If I remember correctly, you indulged in many activities that were left unpaid for. 'I am coming on behalf of the King of Ornuv' is what you said, correct? But the houses you visited had nothing to do with royal matters," The Prince's eloquent eyes targeted Harrington. Lady Harrington's eyes pivoted to him with burning questions.

The Lord cleared his throat as if assaulted by a deadly cough. "I gave you grace and forgot about your debt. This how we handle things in Mias." The Prince released Lach's hand. "In consideration of my generosity, I ask you to grant mercy to this young man." The Prince finished as a couple of guards made their way to them. Lach's heartbeat raced.

"What is happening in here?" One of them asked, hand on his hip near the handle of his sword.

Lord Harrington opened his mouth before it closed under the Prince's heavy eyes. "Nothing at all. A mere incident."

The Lord approached Lach and patted his stony shoulders. "I am a kind man. So I will let you go," he said loud enough for the crowd to hear as he grimaced a smile. Lach's eyes narrowed, swallowing the urge to wiggle out of his touch. The Lord's voice then turned into a murmur. "If you don't pay your debt before Solstice in ten days, your family will be on the streets." Lach's breath hitched. "My Prince," Lord Harrington bowed before Ezri before bumping his way into the crowd, Lady Harrington on his heels with questions spinning on her tongue like a mill.

The guards went on their way, not without glaring at Lach.

Lach heaved his anger still very much alive. "Are you well?" The Prince's eyes bore on him, and the situation fell on him like a cold shower.

He bowed down, hearing a new tune starting as the crowd around them finally dissipated. "Your Highness." He had lost it. He had lost in front of everyone. He closed his eyes tightly. Shit.

"What is this debt our pleasant Lord Harrington was talking about?"

Lach straightened up again. "Nothing of importance. Your Highness." He wasn't about to display more of his family business. His eyes fell to the messy floor. He needed to clean this before-

"Dear Lord!" The Steward gasped. Striding behind him was the stablemaster, with fury stretching his features.

He was done for.

"You clean this immediately!" The Steward stifled his anger with a hiss.

"Yes, sir!" Lach was kneeling, gathering as much as he could of the food on the floor before the stablemaster dragged him away by the arm.

"I swear, you will hear it," he threatened, and Lach swallowed thickly.

The Prince's gaze followed him.

Rid appeared from his peripheral vision. "What happened? Are you well?" he asked, but Lach hadn't had the chance to answer before the stablemaster shoved him forward.

**

The tension had diffused, and the ceremony went on to Amaya's biggest disappointment. People hadn't forgotten why they were here in the first place.

"I have heard you are a horse enthusiast, Princess. How delightful. I own ten stables back in Erran," A man with close-cropped platinum hair and an average face that Amaya would forget as soon as she talked to another one expressed. It had been going like this all night. The Princess's eyes darted around him as she stayed silent. "Princess?"

Her eyes panned back to him in shock as if she had realized his presence. "My Lord." She drawled out, still looking everywhere but at him, and he coughed intentionally. "I am sorry. Yes, I do love horse riding."

"Fantastic. We should ride this together. I will teach you the right way."

Amaya gave a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Certainly." Not far away, Lily was seen talking excitingly to a handsome man. "Please, excuse me," Amaya stated before leaving under the Lord's gaping mouth.

"Lily," Amaya called, and the woman gave her a pointy look, tilting her head to the man she was talking to. "Please..." Amaya mouthed.

Lily excused herself with a smile that disappeared once in front of the Princess. "Please, tell me it is important enough to cut my conversation short with the son of the richest merchant of Barbèssa."

"Did you see what happened to that man?"

"Which man?"

"The one who got into trouble."

"The wild servant? Why does it matter?" her tone was incredulous and full of interrogations.

Amaya cleared her throat, realizing her mistake in mentioning the man. "It doesn't."

Lily blinked away her confusion. "Don't worry about that. I am sure they handled him very well."

Something settled heavily in the Princess's stomach. "Do you believe so?" her words were laced with dread.

"Of course," Lily assured before her face beamed as she gasped.

"What was that for," Amaya questioned.

"The God Sun was generous when he granted beauty to this man. He must have been blessed when created in his mother's womb." Her words flowed like a dream as she stared ahead of her.

Amaya followed Lily's sparkling gaze before her words fell back into her mouth. A tall man, sculpted like a marble statue, stood near a crowd of women. His muscles strained against the fabric of his crimson uniform. Amaya recognized the man who handled the stableman's anger. "Who is he?"

"Prince Ezri of Mias." Lily fawned.

"Mias..." Amaya repeated slowly. "The country who rejected our demand for help during the war?" The Princess's brows arched up. "Didn't Father cease all friendship with the King of Mias? What is he even doing here?"

"He also signed the Peace Treaty."

"Still, Father's resentment against their King is as ferocious as my hatred for this whole ceremony." The Prince smiled brightly as he animatedly discussed with a woman so far in age her back curved. Amaya tilted her head to the side.

"The King's resentment is certainly very much still in place, but Mias is also the wealthiest country after the war in the whole continent. I wouldn't be surprised that the King safely locked his resentment just for that ceremony."

"Neither would I." The King would hand her to his worst enemy if it meant bringing back prosperity in Ornuv.

"After all. He is the most sought-after gentleman in the whole continent." The Prince glanced at them and bowed at the woman before heading their way.

"He is coming our way," Lily said, shrieking.

Amaya's eyes widened. "Oh, no."

"Don't scare him away." Lily threw before stepping away.

"Lily, wait!" Amaya urged, but the woman was already gone. Amaya was left fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

It was too late for an escape.

**

"Who do you think you are?" the voice of the Steward echoed through the dark corridor over the cacophony of the party. Finally, letting loose away from inquisitive gazes. Each scream rippled against Lach's tensed body.

"Look at me!" Lach lifted his head. "This is the last time it will happen, young man. Because you get out now!"

Lach's eyes widened. "Please, no-" He couldn't leave. He needed that money.

The stablemaster slid between them as he begged the Steward to keep him. "Please, Sir. Don't punish the young man. He has an old mother and a young brother and no father." Lach's throat constricted as the stablemaster apologized profusely on his behalf.

The Steward shook his head before turning around. "Hiring peasant to serve in the castle. What a ridiculous idea," he mumbled. "I don't want to see his face. He will make himself useful in the kitchen." He strode back inside the ceremony room.

"Thank you, Sir." The stablemaster bowed down. As the Steward strode back inside the ceremony room.

"Sir..."

The stablemaster's glare flickered with many things. Anger, frustration, and, above all, disappointment. "Starting a fight with a Lord in front of the King himself? Are you out of your mind?"

Lach tightened his lips. "He started this."

A strident laugh pierced through the hallway. "Do you think it matters?" the stablemaster's expression sobered down. "No matter who is really at fault, you are the one that will be punished for that."

Lach's tongue loosened up, tired of keeping every piece of his mind to himself. "Do you think it fair?"

"You want to talk about fair?" He nodded slowly. "You could be hung for that!" He spat. "Luckily for you, you will only end up with half of your pay."

Lach stepped forward. "What? No- I need this money."

"That's how fair it will be for you."

"But my mother and my bro-"

"You should have thought about them!"

Lach's head got dizzy. His palm pressed against the wall. Going back home without that money? He couldn't. They wouldn't make it. "But-"

"Did you hear what I just said?" The stablemaster grabbed him by the arm, shaking him. "They could kill you." A sorrowful shadow cast over his eyes. "It is what happens to people like me, like you." Lach's features tightened. "Like your father," His heart plummeted to his feet. "Be glad that ravishing prince was there to dissolve the scene before it got you sentenced." He let go of him, and Lach's shoulders slumped down. "Who will take care of them if they get you?" The man leaned forward. "You do what they say, and you shut your mouth up. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Lach nodded, eyes down.

"Now, go to the kitchen," The stablemaster sent him away with a fleeting hand. Lach glanced at the door of the ceremony room a last time before he dragged his feet through the dim-light hallway. Behind him, a trail of smoke insinuated slowly.