Glancing over at the king, he noticed the dark brooding lines creasing the young man's forehead. The wrinkles around his mout deepened as he waited impatiently for the night to end, wishing only to be with his women and drink his wine. Farther behind his throne were the ranks of the dark acolytes and their foul masters. Thom wrinkled his nose in disgust as if the necromancers were a foul taste on his mouth.

They would die, he thought smiling inwardly to himself. If he had to spit on their graves, he would. If he had to turn Bardos upside down, he would still kill them.

His eyes passed over one acolyte in particular. The youth's shape was strong and healthy, unlike the others around him who looked so stunted and deformed to Thom's eyes. A smile touched his tired mouth. No one noticed the new boy in town. Thom actually prided himself for the illusion he cast over the warrior, Marsilus, so he could do the dirty work of spying on the enemy. The spell actually smothered Marsilus' real identity. He was no longer the proud dashing young warrior, but a sickly looking, albeit strong, mage.

The trumpets sounded to call the ladies of the court. A red carpet rolled out followed by a procession of the high-ranking women who participated in court affairs. This was something Thom did not want to miss. He had planted Jemaine and Laura among them. The elder sister as a scribe who could share the glee of seeing the enemy's plans with him, and the younger as the puppeteer of the king. Thom was sure he would appreciate the new challenge. Perhaps Laura will cast a clerical spell of banishment on him...

He glanced up at the procession. Jemaine and Laura should be out soon. He was, in fact, intrigued if Jemaine would actually wear a gown, and there was no harm in seeing delicate and beautiful Laura in one as well.

It was not a long wait. Jemaine was among the large throng of women laughing among their handsome escorts. Jemaine wasn't laughing of course. She sullenly stepped down the stairs next to the pale-skinned young man who walked with her to the king's table. Thom could not hide his amusement as the elfwoman, scowling, snatched her hand away from the bewildered youth. Then, glaring at the High Sorcerer, she seated herself at his side.

"What are you staring at?" she snapped, watching him with keen eyes.

He was staring at her. Lord Thom could not imagine any other woman who could match Jemaine's cold beauty. For the first time, he noticed the clear intelligence impressed in her glittering green eyes, the steel hard jut of her jaw, and the dark wild beauty of her hair. She wore a night blue gown that scooped low down her neck. The fabric was embroidered with finely spun gold thread and diamond studs. Thom was practically dazzled by the ensamble.

He smiled at her teasingly. "What man would not stare when the woman passes by?"

Jemaine made a face that wasn't quite becoming of her elegant beauty. "You know better than that, dear sir." She flicked a glance at everyone around the table. There was one other seat beside the king's that remained empty. "That's for Laura?"

Thom grinned nodding. "She is the star of the show tonight, princess."

"And what's wrong with him?" She indicated Amor who was sat quietly, brooding, over his wine. "I thought he's waiting for my dear sister too?"

"It must happen to jilted lovers," Thom answered not caring either way. "He gets under the spell every time a girl rejects his attentions."

The music started and Laura was still absent. In fact, most of the people were anxious to get on with their own private party and not wait for whoever was taking too long to come out. But just as the music reached a crescendo, the elfwoman finally made her appearance. She descended the Ladies' Walk alone, none dared to match her pure pristine beauty, the marble-like coldness of her pale face even the glistening sheen of her golden blond hair. Her gown was a simple golden dress that complemented her hair, yet she was alluring all the same. All eyes, except two dark brooding ones, were on her now.

"She's one fine catch, my lord," Thom remarked softly to the king who sat mesmerized by the goddess walking among men.

"Very fine indeed," the young king agreed, captivated. "Has she been here long?"

Thom smiled pointedly at Amor, who sulkily refused to look at Laura. He knew what the king's question meant. "I think someone has tried, yet failed to capture her heart. Is that not right, Lord Firestorm, you who always catch on the latest gossip in this castle?"

"I don't want anything to do with her," Amor snarled in return.

"My, my, haven't we become touchy since the pretty woman appeared."

Amor snorted derisively. He stood up stiffly and bowed before the king. "if you'll excuse me, my lord, I'll keep my brooding to myself."

So saying, the lordling stomped away from the king's table. Not even a high and mighty king of whatever land could make him endure the humiliation of sharing the table with the woman who refused his love. It was childish and silly, but Amor had figured long ago that a man's pride was something like that. He certainly didn't like the way Laura jilted him. So why should he share his dinner with her?

He had not reached the adjoining hallway when he was intercepted by the slight figure of a woman standing by the doorway. He had not seen here in his haste to leave the banquet hall that he collided with her.

"I-I'm sorry," he mumbled, out of his usual charm. Why didn't she just get out of his way and leave him in peace?

Delicate white hands tilted his chin up, tore his gaze from the floor. No! This was too much! Laura was standing in his way, smiling up at him. What was Thom thinking, sending the elfwoman here just to soothe his wounded pride? She had work to do! Besides, did he really think Amor was going to buy that woman's lies?

She gazed up at him in concern. "Are you unwell, my lord?"

"I'll be fine," he muttered, annoyed that she should ask when she knew well what was wrong with him. "I just need to be alone."

"You don't look well, Amor," she said.

The way his name escaped her lips drew his attention. It was as if she were unsure of her words, that she wanted to help him yet run away as well. Maybe she wasn't so cold-hearted after all. Maybe he'd listen...

She reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his face. "You look pale. Come, I had better take you to your rooms."

No, he wouldn't. Too many times this scene had happened. "I will be fine," he assured her. "You have work. Master is waiting for you with the king. Leave me in peace."

Laura looked hurt at the harshness in his voice, nevertheless she withdrew with a low somber curtsey that mirrored her serious offended face. The man was a mystery to her. First he had wanted to be with her so much. Barely an hour later, he acted so cold and distant she was shocked at the change. But then, she consoled herself, humans have to put up with such terrible mood swings. And she was glad that she at least was an elf and was not subject to these peculiar emotional drifts.

Master Lord Thom was waiting for her, looking bored. "He did not listen," he said as she approached.

"The boy's as stubborn an ass as his master, apparently," Jemaine quipped beside him.

Thom looked unfazed by the insinuation. "Try talking to him again sometime later when he's cooled off. Men have sensitive egos and it never does well to injure it, especially one so dignified as that boy."

Laura was confused. She could not quite follow the drift of the conversation. Amor was angry? At her? For what? Lord Thom must have been mistaken. Or that he and Jemaine were talking of other people. Why would Amor be angry in the first place? She'd acted so nice to him!

"Excuse me, my lord," she interrupted politely, sliding into a seat across Thom. "My servant has gone to send the gift you sent to Lord Prasis." It was a code. She knew Thom would understand. He had her tell Alexa, who had not shown up at the banquet, to convey a missive from the sorcerers in the Tower of Kaaron of the progress of his plan. Lord Prasis was the next highest ranking mage of the Conclave. Thom had not trusted him much but he had no choice for the man was master to most of the other sorcerers there.

"Very well, Princess," he nodded. "And now, perhaps you, Princess Laura, would like to get to know a man more powerful than us hacks of the city." He smiled slyly. This had been part of the plan to discover more of the wartime activities as well as the dark mages'. "King Marcus, may I present to you, the diamond of the south, Princess Laura Illyone of Daimshira."

Laura got up and curtseyed before the young king who was so mesmerized that he had not realized Laura did not speak with the broad accent of the Daimshiran women, but with an elegant elven twist. "I am pleased to meet his Majesty."

The king was close to a swoon as he kissed the delicate hand Laura presented before him. "The pleasure is all mine, lady, believe me." he spoke with an indistinct accent, like he was disguising his true identity or some such thing. Laura figured it was only fitting. Everyone in the Larkelonian court had something to hide. "Would you care for a dance my lady?"

She rose from her seat. "Certainly, my lord."

As the king swept her across the room, she did not notice the two dark eyes that watched with undisguised envy from the dark hallway adjoining to the banquet hall. She did not see the look of anguish that contorted the darkly handsome face, nor did she see the figure stalk away into parts of the palace unknown even to the builders long dead.