As the speech came to a close and the celebrations and commemorations of the changing of the crown drew to its next stage, William sat over rich bounty of food set before him by the staff of the palace. From the corner of his eye he watched the new Emperor stiffly retire from the banquet. The man who had entered a peafowl rooster, with all the boistrous color of imperial selection and musical announcement slipped out from the hall as quietly as a mouse. William noted his slouch, his low shoulders, the hobbled and tired way he was walking. Whatever it was that held the prince aloft was clearly failing to William's eyes.

	He lifted some food to his mouth and reached for the glass of wine as the prince left. His eyes scanning across the opulent golden tables being continuously loaded down with all types of plates and dishes and their ravenous, gluttonous guests. No matter the status of those here, they poured themselves out on the table as any rude peasant may, no matter how daintily they held their utensils William thought to himself. With outreached arms they sought after the largest leg of goose and duck they would in searching for the choicest opportunities in intrigue. As they would spill the blood of soldiers and levees, they spilled wine and punch from their goblets. They fought over the stuffed fowl and birds as they would a city or a town on the border. There was a struggle over the table as there were struggles over rivers. While they held themselves to be polite, the struggle to put one's self over the other was a shadow puppet's play against the white marbled walls of the great banquet hall.

	“Th' sword is th' extension o' courtly negotiations. Th' reaching hand at th' banquet between nobility is th' same. Watch as they carry out their custom and are polite. But from here, from this table y'can see it clear: they hate each other. Th' Empire in all its evil has been th' only thing keeping them from gutting one anothe'. But th' hubris of th' high is their own downfall. They will smile an' apologize but all th' same it is naught but another moment t' impress the others and organize themselves according to th' percieved superiority; one against th' other. This is nothing alien to either of us. You are lord as th' rest of them. And perhaps – look to th' side, the left an' th' right – see your neighbors. Are they better? Are they worse? Ay', you have a good family, a good court. Perhaps not th' best. There are those here as good. But it is know, we have seen th' Emperor. He is weak.”

	“Shut up.” William said in a low voice as he beat his beak into a leg of goose. Hot sweat juices spat into his mouth. He could feel it drip, he dabbed the underside of his beak with the back of his hand. Sweet honey, crisp rosemary. There was an added flavor of wood smoke, perhaps maple. The skin broke with a crisp salty crackle. He could feel the small feathers of his hackle raise in the rich delight. It was always a pleasure.

	“Pardon m'lord?” Mathias said from behind William, having barely caught what it was William had said. He leaned forward, clutching close to his chest the wrap he had made for himself from stuffing some flat bread.

	“Nothing.” William said dismissively. But he could see from the corner of his eyes that his children had caught something and were looking aside as to discover what happened.

	“Nah good king William it is not a good idea to ignore what y'know. All bad things stem from th' intrigue of man and creature. But the far reach of their capers are blunted by imperial shield, whose hammer smashes all 'fore it's built. But when th' imperial mallet is softened? What then becomes o'th' spears an' th' knives. We are not  yet finished.”

	There was a sudden sound of a horn that cut the banquet and everyone stopped their singing and their talking to turn to the imperial signal. Standing off to the side in the elaborate livery of the palatial nobility the court steward stood erect and proper with his hands clasped in front of him. His tunic and cape appearing unruffled. And though he kept a steady face, there was a troubled disposition nested softly in the manner of his flush cheeks and pronounced jowl. “Honored guests.” Drakon-Al announced stiffly, “Unfortunately there has been a security incident and the palace has been placed under lock down until further notice. You will not be able to leave the grand hall. Please enjoy the food and wine.” 

	There was a murmur of confusion among the dinner guests that turned to shock and a spark of horror as guards and soldiers began filing into the banquet hall with spears raised high. Their heavy armor rattling out its martial songs as they took up position. Mathias looked out at them disturbed and stunned. William could only sit frozen, a morsel of food hanging from his fingers. He felt his appetite drain from him, as if he had any to speak of and was not eating out of the ceremony. The princes themselves were visibly disturbed.

	In the coldness of the back of his mind William could hear the voice say, “Th' seem of history has been cut. Th' yards are free.”