"...and thusly, I laid him out flat!" with a grandiose flourish, a young gentleman concluded his tale in the middle of the public wine garden, commanding the polite applause of those gathered nearby, some for rapt attention to his tale of bravado, and others because word had gotten around that the spirited dandy in the well-tailored suit was buying rounds for all those accompanying him this evening, whether acquainted or not, and so it was a respectably sizable gathering indeed, thus far.

The hour was sometime after six in the evening, and the public house was flooded with those waged workers fleeing their offices for the comfort of the cups and company to be found in such places. The wine garden was a specially reserved area, for the nobility and those who brushed elbows with such elites. Even with such lofty entry requirements, it was still well-populated already and likely to get even more so as the hour stretched further into the gaping maw of night.

All of this is mentioned to give one an idea of just how spectacularly noisy it was in the vicinity, and so just how loudly the following line had to be shouted in order to bring a hush over the place:

"Hear ye, hear ye!"

Heads swiveled as if on greased ball bearings, the assembled turning their attention toward the Ministry page whose training had included how to project just the sort of voice that could command such attention.

"A miracle has occurred, and the Ministry invites one and all to bear witness!"

With that, the page snapped his heels in a well-executed turn, filing out of the garden and onto the street, and at first a few of the more curious trailed behind him, but soon chatter filled the crowd, wondering what on earth qualified as a miracle in the Neath, and if possibly a way back to the surface had been found, or even if the Shuttered Palace had thrown open the patio doors. As more and more were infected with curiosity, they too poured into the streets to hurry after the Ministry page, and from the look of things on the streets, the Ministry sent criers to every public establishment in the city, for there was a parade of bodies in assorted shapes and sizes and manner of dress, all heading in the same direction, toward the most affluent part of town.

"Well, I say," the besuited dandy exclaimed, rising to his feet, the red wine in his glass sloshing dangerously to the side before settling. "Has talk of my daring heroics made its way to the Ministry already? Is perhaps the scene of my duel to be made into a London Historical Society landmark?" he wondered, his vanity seemingly knowing no limits. "Let's go take a look, shall we?" he asked of those gathered, and on the whole, they looked agreeable enough, especially when the gentleman settled up everyone's bill before they joined the flow of citizenry.

The walk didn't take long, seeing as the public house they'd been in was already on the more upscale end of the High Street, and soon enough the wine-sipping dandy found himself before the palace that certainly hadn't been here when he'd passed earlier this afternoon. "What an unprecedented turn," he said, more to himself than his seemingly forgotten companions now, his eyes skimming over the posted sign. "I find myself short of a palace these days, as it so happens."

A woman nearby explained in hushed tones that the man talking to himself was none other than Lord Avernius Valentine, son of Duke Valentine, and recently turned out from his home by his mother with the stern advice to get a job and stop waiting around for his father to die so he could inherit.