The day and night had been filled with festivities that poured from the castle into every nook and cranny of the streets. Peasants were welcomed upon the castle grounds to watch and participate in games and merriment, while guards watched on and kept the rabble from entering into places they were forbidden. Men and women from the cities of which they were allied came to join in the momentous occasion which was a sight for all to see. Finally their freedom from war and the coming of the twenty and first year of their son coinciding with a beautiful summer of fair weather and good crops. 

Every manner of trader could be seen today, those selling chickens roasted on a spit to those who were selling flagons of mead and beer. There were cloth merchants and jewellery sellers and the streets were alive with new smells and bright colours. In the castle grounds were contest of wit and of muscle, jousting and wrestling chief amongst those but chess and croquet to be enjoyed by those who so wished it. There were bards at every stand strumming or banging upon their instruments filling the halls with music while the jovial and the slightly merry danced and sang. 

Come the evening paper lanterns were lit and released into the sky and while the days revelries died down the King and his family, the nobles from this city and those abroad were settled in the great hall with a feast, entertainers and bards, their own party continuing until the moon was quite high in the sky with no sign of stopping. It was as the clock approached the witching hour and the entertainment dwindled to the men telling stories of their great feats of bravery and strength and the women exchanging knowing and apologetic looks that Alessandro thanked his father and his guests for coming but excused himself for fear the wine had gone to his head. His father joked and lightly mocked the boy but Alessandro smiled in good humour and with a kiss to the hand of each lady and a bow to the gentleman he left the great hall for his room. 

While he truly had had too much that night to drink he knew where tales of bravery would lead and he could not sit through another retelling of Torric’s death, listening to how brave and noble his blood thirsty brother had been and seeing the look in all his families eyes that sent a pain shooting straight and true for his heart. He too missed Torric and mourned in his own way for the loss of his brother but things had become even more tense since his death. 

Slipping through the halls he shut the heavy oak door of his room and took the ink black wig from his head, dropping it upon his table and releasing his own golden blonde mane from the tail it had been trapped in. His father was now even so ashamed of his hair that he had had false hair made for ‘every public appearance’. It pinched and it itched but he had to admit it looked better with the royal colours than his own sandy mop. The straight falling black hair also looked neater and more refined than the wildness that came with his natural hair. 

He had been dressed in a burgundy long coat, embroidered about the cuffs and hem with images of golden lions and noble eagles depicting great battles from the history of the kingdom. Beneath this a white shirt was worn, which had laced at the front to tighten. A waist coat of tan brown was under this, it embroidered with images from his own personal history in golden hues with wolves and lions predominant. Tan leather pants were also worn strapped in by the boots that were now being loosened and pulled off by his ever helpful servant. 

The younger boy helped him undress and took his dirty clothes aside before aiding Alessandro into a cotton shirt for sleeping. The boy made sure his master was comfortable before shuttering the windows and blowing out the candles, bidding his master a good night until the morning. The boy was no more than sixteen but had been a servant since his eighth year and been gifted to Alessandro after proving himself capable. 

Though Alessandro thought little about his servant his eyes fought to stay upon against the lull of wine and merry making, instead his mind focused on wholly different matters. Like the talks a mother often has about her son settling down and a father beginning the lengthy plans for such. His mind went to his brother and his sister and the peace they currently had but it wandered for only a short while before overcome by the day he fell into a light sleep.