"The Sisters told me that I might find you here," the vayash moru said off-handedly at his unexpected appearance.

"No! I won't do it. You can beg me all you like. Bad enough that I can't take my sword. Be off with you!" Tov Harrtuck arrived, still arguing with the valet who had been assigned to him, adamant that he would continue to wear his worn leather vest over a rich brown brocade ensemble.

The costumier pulled at the scuffed vest, attempting to wrest it away by force, but Harrtuck scowled and held his ground like a terrier with a bone, prompting chuckles from Tris and the others. "Please, sir, reconsider. You're to be the guests of the King tonight! Surely you can make an exception—"

"I like my vest," Harrtuck retorted. "And you've already gotten me into these... things," he said with a wave toward his fine clothes. Tris realized that in all the years he had known the armsmaster, he had never once, no matter the occasion, seen Harrtuck dressed for anything but the barracks.

"Sir, please—" The costumier was almost in tears, but Harrtuck was resolute, though it appeared that the stolid fighter had availed himself of the proffered bath and made an attempt to tame his unruly hair and groom his recently regrown beard.

"No! I will not! Now go," Harrtuck said, shooing his groomers away with a flurry of waving arms. "Go dress Vahanian. It'll take half a dozen of you just to get his sword away from him," he said, chasing the flummoxed servants from the room. He shut the door soundly behind him, standing hands on hips as if ready should the servants return. He turned toward Tris and the others, grumbling under his breath as he scratched at his beard.

"Lady and Whore!" he exclaimed. "What's the use of making a body miserable for a feast, I ask you?" he continued, in such obvious distress that Tns and Carroway burst out laughing.

"Oh yes, go ahead, have a good laugh," he said as even Soterius joined in. "Our little peacock finally has his finery back," he said with a good-natured jibe at Carroway. "And Ban here was thinking of nothing but the ladies when he dressed." "Now it's not so bad," Tris answered, trying to keep his laughter out of his voice. "I didn't think they did too badly with me."

Harrtuck paused and looked Tris over from head to toe. "Aye, my liege, you're right. Anyone who saw you would know you for a wizard, and a king," he said, with unexpected seriousness. Then he shook his head, returning to his self-pity. "On the other hand, it's a waste of good cloth to dress up the likes of me," he added, giving Soterius a scowl when the soldier vigorously agreed. Whatever more might have been said was lost as the doors opened to admit the rest of their companions.

Royster strode into the room first, a wide grin on his face and a bounce in his step. His wild, snow-white hair was trimmed and tamed under a scholar's cap, and the thin little man beamed with pride at the flowing academic robe that replaced his riding gear. He hummed a tavern ditty and executed a sprightly pirouette for his audience. "Not bad, don't you think?" he said with a broad wink. "Oh, it almost makes me wish Kessen were here!" He looked quickly at Tris. "Not that I'd want you to summon him, mind you, but it would make him pop to see me in this! Scholar's robes indeed! I hope we get to keep them," he said impishly. "I'll save them until I'm back at the Library and wear them every day, just to vex him!"

Kiara and Carina entered together, the Isencroft princess leading the way into the room, with Jae circling overhead. Gone were Kiara's riding leathers and breastplate, the solid boots and coarsely woven cloak. In their place was a copper-colored gown of silk that played off her auburn hair and enhanced the firm-toned contours of her body by its slim cut. Tris met her eyes across the room and blushed as a smile crept to her lips, realizing that his expression betrayed his appreciation. Jae landed lightly on her shoulder, and Tris noted that the little gyregon now wore a slim gold chain around his throat.

Carina was a step behind. A green gown of Mussa silk replaced her healer's robes, and a headband of pearls secured her short black hair. But where Kiara's ease was apparent as she teased with the others and glowingly accepted their compliments, Carina hung back, and Tris realized that the court healer was at a loss outside of her role of physician, without the barrier that the status of her robes made easy to enforce.

"You clean up well," Vahanian said from behind her, and Carina blushed scarlet.

"At least it's green," she managed, for once at a loss for words.

Vahanian chuckled. "I've always wondered what healers wore beneath their robes," he murmured. Carina feigned an outraged swing at him which Vahanian dodged easily. "Hey, take it easy. All I meant was that you give Kiara competition in that dress."

"Really?" she replied, with a glance toward Kiara, who was joking with Carroway about the brightness of his waistcoat.

"Absolutely," Vahanian replied, executing a courtly bow without a hint of mockery. He was dressed head to toe in black velvet, with just the lightest hint of gold around the collar and cuffs. It complemented his hair and complexion perfectly, and Tris decided that Berry herself must have had a hand in their wardrobe. The only items out of place were Vahanian's scuffed black boots and the absence of a sword belt around his waist.

The mercenary pulled at his collar uncomfortably. "I still want to know whose rule it is that we can't take our swords. Stupid rule if you ask me."

"You can't wear a sword in the presence of the King," Carina replied. "Everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," Vahanian retorted, returning to their usual banter, "but everyone doesn't spend their days at court. I don't go anywhere without my sword."

"Where you go, that's probably a good idea."

"There's one small piece of business that hasn't been taken care of," Tris said with a glance toward Vahanian. "We have a little settling up to do." He walked to the table, and from beneath it, lifted a brassbound chest, heavy enough that it shuddered the table with its weight. "I promised to pay you once we reached Principality," he said to Vahanian. "Here it is."

Tris released the clasp and flipped open the chest to reveal an ample mound of Dhasson gold. More than enough to let a man live well for the rest of his life. Tris looked at Vahanian, an unspoken question hanging between them.

The smuggler had not moved, and while his stance suggested that he, too, heard the challenge in Tris's tone, his eyes were unreadable as he stood silent for a moment, looking at the chest.

"I'm going to Margolan," Vahanian replied. "Why don't you put it somewhere safe 'til I get back."

Tris broke out laughing and slapped his friend on the back as Kiara and the others gathered around the fighter, expressing their pleasure at his decision. Vahanian shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention, then grinned his pleasure at their acceptance.

"The feast awaits, honored guests," intoned a servant from the main doors. They filed down the corridor, and Tris found that, despite the assurance of Berry's presence and her father's sworn assistance, he was holding his breath as the wide doors swung open.

Inside the banquet hall, heavily laden feast tables awaited them. The servant guided them to the head table, where they would be joined by Staden and the queen. A fire burned brightly in the massive fireplace, and the smells of roasting game and simmering wassail greeted them as they edged their way through the throng. Four musicians struck up a merry tune on lyre, flute, dulcimer and drum, while costumed performers delighted the group and cupbearers poured ale.

"Now that's a feast," Carroway said. They took their assigned places at the table, and Tris was delighted to find himself next to Kiara. Carina, on his left, found Vahanian to be her tablemate, and Tris decided that Berry had tried her hand at matchmaking with her instructions to the steward. Berry had reserved the seat alongside Vahanian, and next to her would be King Staden and the queen. To the queen's left were Gabriel, Soterius and Harrtuck, with Royster and Carroway at the far end, nearest the musicians.