As they spoke the Chamberlain's eyes widened with chagrin. Camilla could well understand the reaction. The news that the the Graf's very court was in danger was dire indeed. Osfurth drummed his fingers nervously on the desk thinking. Camilla gave him a minute before interjecting.

[b]"Will you cancel the ball Herr Chamberlain?"[/b] she asked, irritated to find a child's disappointment at the notion even though it was the obvious solution. The grey faced Osfurth looked up at her sharply his drumming ceasing.

[b]"Of course not! It is far too important..."[/b] he blurted, genuine anger in his face for a moment before he calmed himself. Picking a white linen square from a pocket he coughed into it, a wet and unhealthy sound. When he looked up he looked calm and contrite.

[b]"Your pardon Frauline, I only meant that we cannot let the conspirators slip away to strike another time when our guard is down. I will send the watch and some few of the Knights to round up any traitors we can find on Rodinger Street. They can go house to house if need be!" [/b]

Camilla nodded, glad to have passed the problem on to the appropriate authorities.

[b]"Is there anything else you require of us Herr Osfurth?"[/b] she asked courteously. To his relief he waive a hand in dismissal.

[b]"No no not at all, you have both done exceedingly well, I will see that the Graf hears of your work and perhaps arrange a small payment to stand in as Middenheim's gratitude. Of course we will hope to see you at the ball, the Sword of Ulric and the Knights will be nearby of course but It would give an old man some extra piece of mind to have a few more reliable eyes on hand."[/b]

[b]"Thank you Herr Chamberlain," [/b]Camilla responded with genuine gratitude and stood to leave. Osfurth was already scrawling furiously on several pieces of paper, no doubt composing orders to roust out the heretics and to lay the trap for them when they made their move. It was good that there were such men of action, willing to do what was necessary. 

The same fussy servant conveyed the pair of them to a guest room somewhere in the twisting curves of the palace and Camilla was infinitely relieved to see that there was a platter of fruit and cheese on one of the tables. She ate a few grapes and then took some of the peppermint garnish from it and popped it in her mouth, chewing the bitter herb until the peppery taste filled her mouth. It was an old courtesan's trick to ensure fresh breath.

It was already nearing time for the ball to start so she hurriedly changed into her dress and jewels, binding her hair into place with the silver chains and putting on her earrings before slipping into the uncomfortably ornate heeled shoes which Brettonian's had apparently invented as a means of torture and then converted to a fashion accessory. Finally she cinched her new weapons belt tight around her waist, drawing the dress in around her hips and then gently unbound the leather which she had used to conceal the jeweled hilt and scabbard of her sword. Dropping the leather straps into the paper wrappings she buffed the gold for a few moments with a cloth, returning the gold and sapphires to their previous shine. She was more than a little relieved that the thing hadn't been scratched or deformed in the past few days. She thought about it for a moment and then took one of the pair of elven daggers she customarily concealed in her boot and thrust it through the belt at a jaunty angle. The whole ensemble made her like vaguely piratical and she briefly considered a bandanna, chuckling to herself at the notion. It wasn't exactly Middenheim style, but it would have to do.

She stepped out of the small bedroom she had used to change and struck a pose.

[b]"Well? How do I look?" [/b]she asked in an excited tone.

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