"And who else?" Lord Gideon Eisenhorn demanded as he paced up and down his study, back rigid, hands clasped behind his back. His fingers broke their grasp as one hand shot up to his head, smoothing over his raven hair, while his leather-clad feet continuously thudded on the wooden floor. He was wearing his Sunday best, a long, black, satin coat, studded with gold buttons and embroidered with silver thread. On the ring finger of his left hand, one found a beautiful golden ring in which was set the most obnoxiously large ruby. Gideon wore it for the colour, mostly, which reminded him of blood. 

The study was spacious and luxurious, somewhere on the third floor of the castle. Large windows offered a brilliant view over the castle grounds and allowed plenty of sunlight. A large desk dominated the room, currently littered with papers. Bookshelves lined the walls, interspersed with display cases containing all manner of curiosities. It wasn't as large as the library, but Gideon preferred it all the same. 

Nervously, Jettred, Lord Eisenhorn's valet, rifled through a stack of papers. "Master Eriador will be there, the geologist. He has been mapping--" 

Raising his hand again a swift motion, Gideon cut off Jettred impatiently. "Yes, I know who he is," the Earl snapped. "Just names, Jettred, no explanations, thank you," he added curtly. 

"Very well," Jettred mumbled. He enjoyed working for Lord Eisenhorn, mostly because the pay was very generous, but the man could be... difficult. "Masters Gerthrod and Ichabod, and their Ladies. Let me see..." Jettred pulled a particular piece of paper from the stack and scanned it, squinting at the handwriting. They may be nobles, but not all of them had handwriting that befit their station. Jettred decided. Gideon, meanwhile, kept pacing up and down, hands behind his back once more, fiddling with the large ruby on his finger. Jettred risked a glance at the Earl. He had to admit he hadn't seen his Lord this agitated in preparation for a party before. 

"Yes, Jettred?" Gideon asked tersely. 

Startled, Jettred quickly cast his eyes down and onto the paper he was supposed to be reading. "Ah, sorry Milord. I do believe that's it, actually."  

"Good," Gideon said, who stopped pacing all at once and clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "And the letter to miss Goldburrow?" he asked. Jettred resisted the urge to sigh. Lord Eisenhorn had been asking about miss Goldburrow repeatedly throughout the last few days, and honest to his Gods, Jettred did not know why. He had never heard of the woman before and, from what he had gathered, she was a foreigner that meddled in things best left alone. 

"Sent," he said. 

Still motionless in the middle of the room, Gideon seemed locked in thought. Eventually he nodded to himself, as if having made a decision. "Send Lisa after it," he decided. "Have her make sure miss Goldburrow, ah, arrives safely. Tell her to bring a dress, or something like that, at her discretion. I don't want miss Goldburrow to feel out of place immediately." 

Jettred hoped the Earl was joking, but he looked perfectly serious. 

"Off you go," Gideon added as he turned to look out the window overlooking his estate. 

"At once," Jettred stammered and hastened himself out of the room. 

[center][h3]~Later that Evening~[/h3][/center]

At risk of overdoing his outfit, Gideon had added a gilded rosette to the front of his satin coat, pinned in place. It was a decoration received after the war for civilians who showed outstanding courage and virtue in the face of the enemy invasion, bestowed upon Lord Eisenhorn by King Rubel himself, much to the former's amusement. In the King's speech, he had spoken of Huran, the Angel of Mankind, who would surely have been proud of Gideon Eisenhorn, an exemplary specimen. 

It had taken all of the Earl's self-control not to say [i]"You have no idea."[/i] 

Despite the irony, it was a rather effective political move. Gideon Eisenhorn turned out to be a man very fond of shiny things, almost like a magpie, and the gift temporarily solidified the Earl's loyalty. 

He thought about all this and more as he looked down on the rosette while he smoothed over his coat with gloved hands. Snapping out of his reverie, he straightened up, cleared this throat and stepped into the great hall. 

It was filling up with his guests by the time he entered. All of the eyes in the room turned to look at him and he accepted the attention with a beaming smile, spreading his arms in a gesture of welcome. "Friends, friends!" he said, at the result of appreciative laughter and applause. "Welcome to my humble abode on this fine evening. I have invited you all here, wise men and women, for an evening of scholarly discourse. Knowledge is power, as they say, and too much of it has been lost during the war." At these words, Gideon's face turned grim and he lowered his arms. "It is up to us, now, to rebuild. Not only our homes and our country, but our wisdom too." 

At this, the room broke out into applause once again. A footman stepped up and whispered briefly into the Earl's ear. Grey eyes searching, they eventually met the golden gaze of his most anticipated guest. [i]Excellent,[/i] Gideon thought to himself. "But first, let us feast!" he exclaimed. Servants seemed to suddenly pour out of nowhere, as if conjured by magic, and started dispersing plates ladened with food and drink. An excited murmur immediately struck up in the room as the Earl's guests began chatting away, though Gideon could clearly see one of them was not nearly as excited to be there. 

[i]No matter,[/i] Gideon mused. [i]You will change your mind.[/i] It would be most improper for him to immediately seek miss Goldburrow's attention, however, and Gideon resigned himself to playing the part of graceful host for now, sitting himself down at the head of the largest table in the room, animatedly talking and laughing as they ate.