The open courtyard was buzzing with the amused murmurs of chipper court ladies. The surrounding colonnades kept the onlookers dry from the drifting, lazy snowflakes.

  Leopold had agreed to spar without the use of his aura, which put Asbj?rn and his raw sword abilities on par with each other.

  Today's weapon of choice was a pair of simple wooden mock swords. Harmless in most hands, but a beating from Asbj?rn with one of those would still be painful. Thus, Leopold was not about to let his friend gain the upper hand.

  However, the growing crowd of curious observers, which always appeared when they sparred, was muddying the sound of his opponent's thoughts, forcing his predictions to be based on actual skill rather than cheeky readings of the mind. Leopold thrived on the adrenaline of a tricky battle. I may not have my aura, but I will not let you win that easily.

  Their mock swords whipped through the air, fast enough to clear the flakes between them, meeting in loud clashes that sent tiny splinters flying.

  It was a close spar, but Leopold was gaining ground, moving through the newly fallen white, until something in his peripheral vision began to distract him.

  An annoyingly loud and cocky group of young noblemen walked along the colonnade to Leopold's left. He recognized their voices immediately. These were the same men who had attended Lord Rahkan's party and daringly gossiped about those of higher standing.

  They were loud but harmless.

  As they drew nearer, their voices bled into the huffs and clashes of swords. From the fragments of conversation, Leopold could tell they were once again talking about the Ravnsunds, this time circling a visit one of them had recently made.

  "You should have seen the women they have for sale, young, pretty, and submissive." The man boastfully declared, almost as if he were the one who had them for sale. "Once my father remarries, I will have the funds to own a Gem like that."

  They must not have noticed that Asbj?rn is fighting right here. Otherwise, they would save such a conversation for later.

  They might not have noticed Asbj?rn, but he had, without a doubt, noticed them. His relentless bombardment of expert swings had come to a sudden stop, and he stood staring in their direction. From the look on his face and the angry thoughts that appeared, he was not as indifferent about their presence as Leopold.

  For a moment, they stood in silence while the onlookers muttered in confusion at the spar's sudden stop. Then, without hesitation, Asbj?rn suddenly tossed his sword up, caught it like a short spear, and in one swift motion hurled it across the yard.

  It landed with a soft clatter a few paces in front of the loud noblemen, stopping them in their tracks.

  The courtyard fell silent, dampened even further by the snowfall.

  Asbj?rn leisurely strolled over, as though he had dropped the sword by mistake and not thrown it with force across the yard.

  "My mistake, gentlemen." He stood before the sword, but didn't pick it up. His voice was icier than the snow.

  "Oh, is that you, Lord Skowmose? I had not noticed you." On the surface, it was polite chatter, but the heaviness of how Asbj?rn had opened the exchange hung in the air. "How did you enjoy your stay at my manor?"

  Lord Skowmose stammered nervously, fiddling with his greasy bun. Before he could muster an answer, Asbj?rn had cut him off.

  "I hear you found yourself some special entertainment." His tone turned clinical, dissecting the man before him. "So special, in fact, you thought the rules did not apply."

  "Oh, well, you see, Lord Ravnsund, it was all a misunderstanding." A low murmur had started in the onlooking crowd around the colonnades, and the other men with Lord Skowmose slowly edged away. They didn't want to be associated with whatever was about to unfold.

  Leopold had also made his way over and now stood close enough to see the so-called misunderstanding replay in the man's mind.

  At first, he saw blurred images of the evening flashing by: laughter, music, and wine. Soon, images of a familiar blond girl appeared.

  She looked cold and fed up, quite different from the defiant and cautiously curious version he had met. With each flash of her face, he sensed the noble's growing drunkenness and irritation. The man longed for a thrill.

  Then the mood changed in the flickering memories, muddying with drunkenness. The vision of an unreasonably, comically even, large puddle of wine staining Lord Skowmose's shoe appeared, and a quarrel had broken out; it seemed like the little blond wanted to step in.

  How brave you have become.

  But instead, someone else had diverted his anger. Images followed of a seductive dance by a large-breasted woman, her body so tantalizing that her face blurred.

  Then the images blacked out, and short, sporadic glimpses of the man pressing a girl up against a wall, holding her by the neck, driven only by alcohol and desire, was the last thing he saw. Before, the gnawing feeling of unfair treatment was the only thing left in his mind.

  Lord Skowmose blamed the blond girl; if she had just served him properly, he would not have had to find his own fun.

  Leopold detested people who could not see their own faults, especially those who, when confronted, tried to deny it. The nobleman was still trying to argue his way out of the truth.

  "So you are saying the bruising in the shape of a large hand on the neck of one of the women simply happened because she fell?" Asbj?rn was not having any of this man's lies, but he slowly let him dig his own grave deeper.

  "Yes, quite, she was a clumsy girl. It was really all a misunderstanding." He was getting more desperate. "I'm sure if your foreign gem had been easier for me to converse with, I wouldn't have gotten so frustrated."

  "You are absolutely positive, the fault lies with the gems I have polished.

  And not with you getting too drunk and unruly, causing an utter disgrace?"

  "Well.. I mean.. I would never cause a scene!" Lord Skowmose stammered his way through denial, as his mind stumbled about trying to find a way to pin the blame on anyone but himself. "You must be mistaken, my lord. It was all a misunderstanding."

  Leopold could tell that both his friend and he were done with this piece of trash. As a storm, he slowly but surely let his aura flare, ready to wipe this smudge of a human being off the face of their peaceful morning.

  "Are you calling Lord Ravnsund a liar?" His voice carried easily over the stunned crowd.

  The aura expanded as a suffocating heat that melted the snow around his boots and silenced every onlooker. It clamped down on Lord Skowmose, pressuring him for an answer.

  The noble froze, color draining from his face. "N-no, Your Highness. Of course not."

  Asbj?rn stepped forward, his boots crunching through the half-melted snow. "Then let us make sure there are no more misunderstandings."

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  He extended a hand toward the weapon lying at the noble’s feet. "Pick it up."

  Lord Skowmose hesitated, eyes darting between Asbj?rn and Leopold. When no help came, he bent to retrieve the wooden sword. The gesture, meant to look casual, came out as a pathetic crouch. Though it had landed on the dry ground under the colonnade, he wiped the handle on his sleeve before offering it back.

  Asbj?rn didn't take it right away. Through gritted teeth, he snarled at the noble, "You will not set foot in my manor again. Nor will any man who condones your behavior."

  Of course, that might not seem a severe punishment, but what all in high society knew lay behind those words was the implication that he would never be able to purchase from the Ravnsund manor either. Never be able to own a gem or any of the privileges associated with the inner circles of those who traded in fine goods.

  Leopold let his aura fade, leaving the air crisp and cold once more. The puddle that had formed around him and Asbj?rn was a testament to their superiority. And the nobleman stood alone, defeated and abandoned by his companions.

  Asbj?rn finally took the sword and turned away. "Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, my lord."

  Nervous laughter broke somewhere in the distance, the kind that follows when everyone knows the show is over but no one dares clap.

  Leopold and Asbj?rn walked back toward the sparring ground. The sound of their boots in the snow filled the silence.

  When they were close enough that only Leopold could hear him, a bitter question sounded from asbj?rn.

  "Why did you step in? I had it under control."

  At first, Leopold was taken aback by the sudden hostility of his friend, but as he gauged the meaning behind his friend's words, he now saw his own blunder.

  "I did not mean to undermine your authority," Leopold looked apologetically at his friend, and though he could tell he was already being forgiven, he still felt the need to add a bit more. "I simply could not stand listening to that blubbering fool, trying to weasel his way out of a mess he made himself."

  They both laughed in mutual despise of that insolent young noble, who had been invited and dared to do as he pleased. Now he would never again be allowed to visit the Ravnsund manor, and never be able to purchase a true Ravnsund gem.

  Leopold gained a small satisfaction from the punishment dealt, even if it could never truly right the wrong that had been done to those afflicted by the noble's stupidity; at least his friend's honor was restored.

  "You might not have meant it, but I think you owe me one now." Asbj?rn flashed Leopold a mischievous smile. "Wouldn't you agree?"

  "Is that so?" Leopold could already tell where his friend was going with this, but he wanted him to say it out loud. "And how may this humble offender make amends for his crimes? Shall I lose this bout on purpose?"

  It was clear to both of them that the mood for swordplay had long been spoiled, and what was brewing in Asbj?rn's mind seemed like a much better idea to Leopold, but he couldn't be the one to suggest it; that would be the real loss.

  "No, I was thinking something far more dangerous." Asbj?rn locked eyes with Leopold, and they both grinned.

  "It has been decided you shall accompany me to Madame Purple's to make up for stepping in." He exclaimed and was already on his way out of the courtyard.

  As they made their way indoors to change out of their training gear, Leopold couldn't help but poke a bit at his daring friend, who sometimes seemed to have forgotten their stations.

  "You really dare to order the Empire's Prince around." Leopold laughed.

  "So are you refusing?" Asbj?rn challenged back.

  "Of course not, I would never disappoint."

  And with that, they were already on their way out of the palace grounds to a cruder part of town.

  The place called Madame Purple's was an open secret, an establishment for the rich or those with special talents who yearned to be, a place of gambling and other debauched activities.

  The front was a proper tea house, where beautiful slaves would serve a mediocre blend, but by flashing a Kruna or two, one could gain access to the large and extravagant halls in back.

  Personally, Leopold usually preferred to spend his time at Madame Purple's in the private room he had won from a drunken merchant back when he was merely seventeen.

  Madame Purple was a real person, although that was not her real name; however, Leopold had once sworn he would never tell a soul. She was a fat and beautiful lady, always covered in gold, jewels, and silks. Wherever she walked, she oozed so much confidence that she could steal the room from even Leopold himself.

  As they stepped into the front room, the frost-driven crowd had swollen. Perfume hung in the air. A ripple of bright, gossipy laughter drifted through the tea house while porcelain clicked and teas went cold.

  This, however, did not prevent two courteous attendants from immediately greeting them; even wrapped in coats and hats, their blond and red hair was well recognized by all.

  "Your highness, welcome!" They bowed deeply, but Asbj?rn stepped forward to do the talking; in one smooth motion, he had thrown his coat to the other. "Thank you, we are not here for tea."

  As if called by a bell, a curtain at the back of the room was opened, and through stepped the most voluptuous lady in the Empire, probably the continent. Madame Purple beamed at the sight of them and waved them to the back.

  "My two favorite noble boys, or should I say royal?" This was her Empire, and any titles only counted as far as she counted them. "Finally back to lose that balcony, your highness?"

  Leopold quite enjoyed the stark contrast between Madame's bubbly exterior and the calculating business lady, always looking for profit, who always schemed on the inside. In every sense, she was a shrewd veteran in the game of trade compared to Asbj?rn. And their dealings were not that far from each other, though Asbj?rn only dabbled in legal trades.

  "How do you know I'm not back to win another?" He winked playfully, and in response, she snapped her teeth as if catching the gesture. Though older than his mother, she still played like a young vixen.

  All three of them stepped through the curtain and found themselves in a short corridor leading to a pair of padded doors. Beyond those was the large open hall where countless games could be played at one of the round tables.

  They made their way along the edge of the hall, finding a stair leading to the upper rooms. Leopold was a large room with an open balcony looking out on the chaos below, and equally for show for those below.

  As they walked, Madame Purple took her chance to catch up on business gossip with Asbj?rn.

  "I heard you even got my brother, the one who married just to get out from my shadow, buying not one but two of your gems." She sent Asbj?rn an insinuating glare.

  Asbj?rn smiled right back, not threatened by the large Madame, a glint of pride in his eyes. "You have heard correctly, though I am sad to say he only bought the very cheapest he could find."

  "Hahaha." Madame Purple's sudden outburst drew the attention of the entire room below with her enchanting laugh, "That fatso could never afford any of your true gems; he should be glad the wife allowed him two."

  She dries a tear of sheer laughter before returning to her usual business demeanor.

  "Enough chit-chat." Madame Purple extended a soft hand, welcoming them to the private room.

  Asbj?rn went straight to the balcony and they took up seats, looking out on the bustling crowd, while Madame Purple called for drinks.

  The sour taste from this morning's confrontation was soon washed away, and a casual game of cards with only a few Kruna at stake made them forget their fatigue from the sparring.

  Below the murmuring would rise and fall whenever someone new noticed their presence, but Leopold didn't mind putting on a little spectacle. Now and then, when a familiar face would stare up at them, Asbj?rn would wave politely while Leopold would raise his glass in acknowledgment.

  Madame Purple had moved on to greet other important visitors and could be seen moving about the hall in all her glory, talking to every sad sap, making everyone feel important.

  Their games went as usual, mostly filled with casual banter, making fun of all the court officials and their overly bureaucratic ways. Leopold would lose a few Kruna on purpose and win them back easily, keeping the score even. It was not that Asbj?rn was a bad player, quite the contrary, but a good player often knows what move to make next, which only made it that much easier for Leopold to peek at their mind and predict their strategy.

  The games that brought him the most joy were those with stakes so high that they made the opponent erratic and unpredictable, or those purely based on luck.

  A sudden buzz below, louder than anything they could have caused, suddenly caught their attention.

  At the entrance stood a man Leopold had never seen before, and judging from his attire, he was most certainly not from the Empire.

  However, what seemed to spur the crown was the entourage that followed him. A towering bodyguard with skin so dark he could only be from the Kalarie Islands, a small island kingdom off the coast of the Empire, a smaller man carrying an intricate chest, presumably filled with whatever riches the man planned to gamble with.

  And on each side, he was flanked by a woman dressed in fine silks.

  He cannot be too smart if that is the entrance he makes in a place like this, or maybe he deliberately plans to leave a poor man.

  Leopold returned his gaze from below, not concerned with watching a man lose. Instead, he watched his friend, who was still entranced by the man below. For the thoughts flowing, he could tell that they did not formally know each other; however, Asbj?rn had an inkling that this was a certain merchant he had come across in conversation.

  Soon, though, the man and his entourage were out of sight, and their game resumed with meaningless wagers being thrown back and forth.

  This went on for a while until, behind them, a light knock warned of the intrusion of Madame Purple, and with a smug smile, she proclaimed.

  "I have someone who would very much like to make you acquainted, Lord Ravnsund." With a jeweled chubby hand, she gestured to the foreigner.

  "His name is Gustaf dé Reviche; he is a merchant who deals in tobacco and luxury goods. In my humble opinion, you would quite enjoy his company."

  "Is that so? Tobacco, you say?" Asbj?rn pretended to deliberate for a moment, really only waiting for permission from Leopold to invite a stranger to his private booth. Leopold didn't mind that they were here to right the wrong he had caused, and a light lift of his chin was all Asbj?rn and Madame Purple needed to see.

  "Shall I send him up?" She inquired in courtesy.