Barl laughed out loud when he mentioned the possibility to him, back in their rooms in the castle. They were preparing spells to change their hunting clothes into something more suitable for indoor wear, trying to imitate the style currently fashionable in the cities of the south so as not to betray their true city of origin. Lord Ruby was a lot better at this kind of magic than Tak was and so he was finished first and he stood in front of a mirror to admire his efforts while his fellow Gem Lord was making his fourth attempt to prepare the engrams. If he spoiled the spell, he wouldn't be able to cast it again until the next day.

     "In love?" cried Barl, hardly able to contain his mirth. "My dear fellow, wizards don't fall in love!"

     "They do sometimes," protested Tak angrily. "Look at Enna and Hopliss. They're happy together. Have been for years!"

     "Yes, but it's not love. They like the sex and they're good friends, but they could separate tomorrow if their careers took them in different directions, in which case they'd forget each other as soon as they find other bed partners. That's all you're suffering from, my friend. A bad case of blue balls. Take her to bed, show her a good time and you'll find you've gotten it all out of your system."

     "And if I haven't?"

     "You will have. Trust me."

     Tak wasn't so sure, though. He couldn't stop thinking about her, and it wasn't sex he was thinking about, or at least not just sex. He just wanted to look at her. Talk to her. Hear the sound of her voice. He wanted to know what his name, his real name, would sound like spoken by her. The possibility that he'd been enchanted occurred to him again, and he wondered whether he ought to get Barl to cast a disenchantment on him, just in case.

     Even if his feelings were the result of a magic spell, though, he wasn't sure he could bear to be without them. If being enchanted meant feeling like this, then he liked being enchanted and wanted to go on being enchanted.

     He didn't really think it was likely, though. The wards and sigils carried in his clothes would have warned him of all but the most powerful spells being cast on him, and the power he'd sensed in her was nothing like great enough to overcome his defences. It was love, he concluded joyfully. Simple, ordinary love that had crashed down on him from his first sight of her, just as told in the songs of the bards.

     Did she love him in return? He froze in horror as he contemplated the likelihood that she didn't. She would probably court him for a while, until she'd gotten the information she wanted from him, and then she would go merrily on her way, leaving him crushed and despairing behind her. But maybe love would grow! If they spent enough time together. Saw enough of each other. Maybe she would discover feelings for him to match those he had for her. New hope filled him, and he found himself rehearsing lines of conversation. Things he would say to woo her over. He would start by complimenting her, of course. Women loved being complimented, and he could... He could... He could teach her a couple of spells! Yes, of course! Magic was what they had in common, after all, so that was the obvious place to start.

     First, though, he had to change his clothes, and he was no closer to getting the engrams right than he'd been an hour ago. He was driven by new purpose now, though. He would change into something that would be sure to impress her. Something that would catch her eye from the other side of the room. He returned to the work with new vigour, therefore, while Barl watched him with a smile and a sad shaking of the head.

☆☆☆

     His arrival in the great dining hall was everything he could have hoped for. The general hubbub of conversation as everyone looked for their place and exchanged pleasantries with their neighbours was suddenly silenced, to be replaced by gasps of wonder and admiration. He'd eventually decided to add an illusion spell to his dinner suit, along with a glowing jewel that he wore on his forehead so he could pretend that the illusion was generated by an artefact he possessed, rather than from his own magical powers. Wizards sometimes paid for expensive spell components with artifacts like that, so it wasn't out of the question that a minor noble might have one.

     This illusion took the form of living flames that seemed to dance across the glossy fabric of his clothes, as if someone had poured a flask of oil over him and set it alight. The effect was so striking that even a fellow wizard, a yellow skinned fellow from Kla-Khel, stepped nervously aside as he passed, as if afraid of catching fire. Even Barl was eclipsed, despite the work he'd put into his own outfit, and he could only watch enviously as his companion stole the room, becoming the instant centre of attention. "Bloody show off," he muttered under his breath. "You wouldn't catch me making such a spectacle of myself for a woman."

     Tak searched around for Essca and spotted her some distance along the table from his own place. He was delighted to see that she was suitably impressed, so much so that she left her seat and made her way to stand beside him.

     "By the Gods!" she cried, her bright eyes widening as she walked around him, examining the outfit from every angle. "I've never seen anything like it! Is it safe to touch?"

     "Completely," assured the Gem Lord, beaming with delight. "It's only an illusion."

     She reached a tentative hand towards the fabric, touching the sleeve of his left arm, then snatched it back in alarm as the flames danced up her finger. She shook it in alarm, and several of the other guests jumped up from their seats, but her hand was unharmed. She hadn't even felt any heat! She touched him again, and this time laughed as the illusory flames reached up her hand and the bare skin of her arm, while around her the other dinner guests returned to their seats, grumbling under their breaths.

     "It's wonderful!" she cried. "Will I be able to cast spells like this one day?"

     "Of course you will," replied Tak happily. "You've got the potential, I can sense it in you. So long as you've got a decent teacher."

     Her face clouded with doubt, and Tak guessed she had doubts about the competence of Hilfiler the twelve fingered, or whatever his real name was. His heart leapt as a possibility occurred to him. He could take her back to Domandropolis to be his own apprentice! He had to hold himself in check to prevent himself from making the suggestion straight away. She might think he was moving too fast. He might scare her away. If he impressed her enough with his magical skills, though, she might make the suggestion herself. It would mean trouble with Hilfiler, of course, but he had no doubt he could handle him. A twelve fingered freak had no right having such a perfect, beautiful woman as an apprentice anyway.

     The Count of Halk was glaring at them, and Essca made her excuses and returned to her seat, but there was a look in her eye that told him he'd struck a direct hit. He probably wouldn't have to seek her out any more. She would seek him out. Especially if she still wanted to get information out of him. His heart was singing with joy as he took his own seat at the table, therefore, so much so that he wasn't aware of it when his neighbour, Lord Tallow, fingered the flaming fabric himself, a sly smile of gleeful expectation on his face.

     It wasn't until the King himself made his entrance, several minutes later, that Tak realised the mistake he was making. Not only was he wearing robes whose gaudy extravagance was totally inappropriate for the occasion (it would have been fine for the dance that was likely to follow), but it was outshining the royal garments. A terrible breach of etiquette in any culture. He hurriedly cancelled the illusion spells, therefore, and prayed that his garments alone, a riot of red and yellow silk, weren't so bright and flashy as to constitute an unforgivable sin.

     He winced as Lamont gave him a sharp look, but the King said nothing as he moved towards his seat and Tak breathed a sigh of relief, giving thanks for his narrow escape. He received several amused looks from the other guests as they stood for the King, but Tak ignored them and by the time they sat again the awkward moment had passed.

☆☆☆

     The meal passed pleasantly as far as the conversation was concerned, but Tak had a hard time of it coping with the exotic foods laid out for him, reminding him of his first visit to Domandropolis, all those years before. Fortunately, there were loaves of ordinary bread and spiced breek meat on little sticks and he stuck to them as much as possible, only eating any of the less appetising offerings when absolutely unavoidable.

     Unfortunately, Lord Tallow noticed his discomfort and took great pleasure in offering him the most thoroughly unpleasant items within reach, which the Gem Lord then had to eat or appear ungracious. Tallow's game backfired on him, though, when he reached over and picked up a small plate bearing a dozen small sausage-shaped objects.

     "Not hungry, Lord Halbon?" he asked gleefully. "Here, try one of these. The finest stuffed pigs penises, stewed in their own semen."

     Tak felt his stomach rising in protest as he took one, and to his dying day he never knew how he managed to make himself eat it. I'll kill him, he swore as Lord Tallow laughed and clapped him on the back with utterly false joviality. One day I'll kill him for this! A moment later, though, he was astonished to see Essca staring at him with wide eyed wonder and admiration.

     "Well done, Sir," said his other neighbour, Viscount Nonymar, chuckling at the foreign nobleman whose joke had backfired. "I'm ashamed to say that I'm not man enough to eat a Horn of Potency, but I'm glad there's at least one of us who is. The good Lord Tallow, of course, coming from the outmarches, is unaware of our customs."

     Tallow glared his hatred at the Viscount, but some of the other men around the table were reaching for the horns themselves, shamed by Tak's example and the Viscount's words, and a woman sitting next to Essca, the sister of Baron Krelldicon, whispered something in her ear that made her blush red with embarrassment. The next time she looked at him, Tak saw her avert her eyes hurriedly and glance around at the other diners as if afraid they might have seen her doing something shameful. The whole episode left Tak feeling rather perplexed, but he found himself looking forward with mounting impatience for the meal to end so he could talk to her again.