As the men and women at the long table talked and grew drunk on the sweet wine that other servants poured into their gold and glass goblets, there were a select few servants who began to entertain the nobles. They were small men, dwarves brought into the castle from harsh lives on the streets or in orphanages, and although it was not the most dignified of jobs, they performed well. The small men, as they were called, often employed the use of small magic - skills that the Emperor had no use for but the tricks proved to be a hit with their guests. Risey watched their performance with such scrutiny. She was a user of magic, skilled in the art of summoning creatures, and she was often critical when she noticed another with magic. Before her life with the royal family, or the lowly noble one before them, she had been quite close to the royal family of Galorien. They had taken her in when her own family and kingdom had fallen. Hailing from a land across the sea called Danycia where summoning magic was quite normal, the raven haired woman was raised to understand the workings of the magic of others.

 It had been the pride of her family, and it was her knowledge of magic that she was quite proud of. Danycia was a small island kingdom located off of the coast of Galorien; it was largely uninhabited now and she was sure that the lush forests had reclaimed much of their stolen lands. She knew there were a few settlements of survivors who had stayed but many left their island home. It had happened when she was young, about the age of eight when her uncle led a rebellion of his own...well it was more like a civil war. He had desired the crown for himself and had convinced a number of their people that he was the rightful heir to the throne. For five and a half years they aged war against each other. When it was over with the deaths of her uncle and her father as well as most of her immediate family, she was sent to Galorien. Her home nation and Galorien had been allies and in the early stages of the war the larger kingdom had sent in their men to aid them. As the war took its toll on Galorien, the king had decided to pull his men out and allow the Danycian people to fight among themselves. 

Galorien was her home for a short time but it was the place where she felt her heart belonged. She had been a refugee of the Danycian Civil War when she had been welcomed into the larger country. Due to her status in life she was taken to the capital where she resided until Galorien was invaded. been invaded by Nicaea. It had been the king of Galorien that welcomed Risey with open arms. He had seen it as an advantage to have one of the many princesses of Danycia, her family was now fabled to be scattered around the lands but she doubted that much was true. Many of her sisters had survived she was sure of it. Maybe one day she would return to her homeland and find her sisters. The brass beads in her hair had been gifts from her sisters - all six of them - and she treasured them greatly as they were the last ties to her family that she had. 

Shaking her mind free of the thoughts and memories, the woman watched as the little men performed their acts. When she was called to the side of the Empress, the woman quietly bent down to the level of the seated woman. A small, sly smile came to the lips of the older woman as she gave her orders. Risey's cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of red and she hurried away to carry out her task.

---

Jan Leon was beginning to hate these gatherings. Several of the already drunk noblemen began to question him about his magic and what he could do - one even demanded to talk to his long dead mother-in-law! Jan Leon faintly caught the slurred [i]I wanna tell her that she's always been a bitch[/i] before the nobleman was escorted to one of the many guest chambers by a servant. The painful twisting of his nerves made the prince lose his appetite and he had been looking forward to the puddings that were served. His eyes drifted over to the dwarves who were performing with cheap magic, as he called it. The prince sighed as he pushed some of his food around his plate. From the corner of his eye he caught onto the misty form of an apparition. These were normal occurrences for him as time went on, he hadn't seen the spirits when he was a child. No, they only started to show themselves recently. He observed the apparition silently; at first he had been frightened of them but now he was growing used to them, just like he had with the voices. 

The apparition took the semi-transparent, smoky form of a tall man dressed in the garb of a knight. He remembered the man as one that had accompanied them to Galorien during the invasion. Jan remembered when the man had died as well; it was something that he could never forget. The man had been protecting Jan and he had taken the arrow that was meant for the Prince. The tunic around the man's chest and shoulders was stained with the blood that had poured from the man's neck. Jan was pleased not to see the arrow. [i]My prince....[/i] The ghost knight called out to him. [i]You are looking well.[/i]
Jan closed his eyes and wished for the man to go away. His voice called out to the prince once more, [i]I hope my death was worth it.[/i] There was a sense of bitterness from the man, which was understandable; Jan would be pissed too if his life had been cut short to protect some kid who spent his time crying and hiding within a tent. He didn't blame the man either for the emotions that poured from his voice. [i]I hope that your father is done with everything.[/i] At first Jan had wondered if his father had been the one to order the death of the knight as an act to spur his son into raising the dead and creating a never ending army. Strong emotions such as fear and anger often made the prince lose control. 

But he had learned that war was absolute hell. 
It was something that he never wanted to experience again. There was talk that the people of Galorien were happy with the new way that their country was being controlled. They no longer were a people united under the name of Galorien - they were now citizens of the vast Nicaean Empire. They no longer had the identity that they once had; Galorien's fleece wasn't as snow white as they wanted many to believe. Once the dinner came to a close, with many of the nobles with noticeable alcohol-induced blushes on their faces, Jan Leon quietly stood up and made his way to the Galorien woman. He nervously cleared his throat and glanced away. 

"I wanted to thank you...for singing to us earlier." He said nervously to the woman. He found that he couldn't look her in the eye without having to fight down a blush.