Luke's face was a mixture of slight horror and irritation at what he just saw happen. No one expected that Peltian noble boy Cedric, half drunk with liquor, half drunk with testosterone, would draw his sword inside the Citadel in the midst of a wedding. In fact, Luke wasn't even aware that something was happening until this sudden and unexpected gust of wind blasted remnants of other people's meals into his face. His hands had slapped down his own plate when he first felt it, but it was already a mistake to use both of his hands to keep his own food from being strewn across the floor. Luke's own glass of wine emptied itself on his pristine and oh so precious white coat. Made from the furs of a unicorn he might add.

By the time Luke looked up to see who would dare ruin something more costly than their own lives, the commotion was already ending with Commander Lowell scolding his son among what seemed like the aftermath of a battle: loud in mournful cries, casualties high in dirtied skirts and stained clothing. The commotion was already dimming when the Commander was speaking.

"Forgive me your Majesties, for the damage and trouble my son has caused." He held a hand pressed against his breast and bowed sincerely.

Luke scoffed to himself, pushing himself up out of his seat. He began his obviously annoyed process of making his dish, silverware and glass right. If one the man would toss some of his own apologies over to the crowd, maybe Luke would feel a bit more obliged to forgive.

Edward had appeared at his side, lifting a towel in his hand before Luke stopped him with a flick of his wrist. He withdrew slightly, but didn't lower his towel.

"My lord, there's no need for you to exert yourself--"

Luke was already tracing a rune in the air, the tip of his finger glowing a light blue with magic. It took less than a second to finish the rune with a swift circle to encase the word. Luke then grasped the light with the palm of his hand and pushed it down upon the glaring red stain on his coat.

He only held down his hand for a second before pulling back, almost like moving through water now, but there wasn't much resistance as he pulled the wine stain right out of his coat. He surveyed himself for a moment, making sure no red spots were left before tossing the bubble of wine into his cup.

People around him were already shouting for their servants, asking for a change of clothing which they no doubt brought with them while the less fortunate ones just sat in their seats, mournfully mopping up their clothes with napkins. The maids and servants were hastily bustling around, not quite as orchestrated or quiet as they normally were, righting chairs, picking up food scraps and replacing ruined meals with fresh ones. Within moments, even though the servants and maids weren't quite out of sight yet, the noise in the hall was returning to its regular festivities. Even the music was picking back up again.

Yet Luke's face was still ridden with a frown. "Edward, call a carriage."

"I already have sire, but do you wish to depart so soon?"

Luke turned towards the staircase, brushing food crumbs from his sleeves. "I've lost my appetite. And besides, I'd rather be working than stuffing my face."

Edward had already taken his place before Luke, scurrying along, leading him through the mess of servants and people. "And your friend, sire?"

"My friend?"

He turned to give a slight nod over his shoulder. "Your friend, Master Zachariah, milord. Shall I send him a messenger?"

"Oh." Luke made a face, taking a glance back towards the crowds now. He couldn't see the doctor between all the hoop dresses and swooping hats of all the nobles that had begun to mingle around the food again. Did he already leave? Luke turned back to Edward. "Yes. Go ahead and tell him we'll meet again later this week to discuss finances and schematics. Whenever it suits him."

Edward cocked an eyebrow, and for that split second it seemed like he opened his eyes, but before Luke could say anything, the man faced forward again. "Of course sire. Whenever it suits him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night was already shedding, even if the sun hadn't risen yet. The ocean was motionless, still dark against the lightening sky, yet despite the late hours the docks of Rosengoth were busy with people moving about. The passengers of S.S. Pacismulle were already departing, escorted by friends and family, for whatever their destination was before the entire affair with the pirates arose. Only a few lingered at the docks. The old captain had a grim look on his face when he turned around, one that only pronounced the already defined wrinkles on his face.

"What d'ya say 'er name was?"

Wilhelm's face mimicked the captain's expression almost to a point. "Mirrah, sir. Mirrah Evangard. She's about five feet tall with red hair. She boarded the ship with us." Wilhelm's face was laced with fatigue. It was surprising how clear his words were despite being so sleep deprived, but he didn't bother hiding his dread. "Did she come by here?"

The captain heaved a sigh, lifting off his captain hat to run his gnarled fingers through his graying hair. He took a moment to respond, but his answer was obvious. "Sorry. I ain't so familiar wi' names an' faces anymore. Age's gettin' to this ol' body o' mine. 'Ave ya tried askin' Patrol?"

Wilhelm lowered his head with a sigh. "I have. Out of all the names listed as passengers on the ship, Mirrah's was the only one that wasn't accounted for. They told me to ask you."

"All I did was give 'em the list, son. It's a mighty shame t'at ya can't find 'er, but 'ere ain't much more I can do."

"I understand."

The captain lowered his head, taking a glance over to his own ship that now had a gaping hole in the side. His men had been working hard all night to keep the ship afloat, but they had just about worked themselves dry that even though the ship wasn't in danger of sinking anymore, it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Patrol had caught the thieves, thanks to the captain's quick hand and luck that put a Patrol ship somewhere close by, but the damage to his own ship kept him from feeling any pride at all. Not to mention Patrol wouldn't let anyone see these pirates, or else he would've given them a piece of his mind.

"Oh--" He turned his head back to Wilhelm. "I 'eard 'ose pirates took some o' yer belongings, d'ya get 'em back?"

Wilhelm looked up now, wearing a slightly more relieved face than before. "Yes, I have." He shouldered the suitcase hanging at his back.

"I couldn' get it opened, thought 'ose pirates broke sommin'..."

"Don't worry about it. Nothing's broken. The door's like that, it's normal." The captain's face shifted into one of confusion, but Wilhelm didn't bother explaining. He bowed slightly, nodding with a genuinely appreciative grin. "I appreciate your help, captain. But I should be on my way."

The captain nodded back, managing a half smile on his face too despite the sheer disaster this night was. "'Course son. Sorry I ain't much 'elp. 'Ope ya find 'er alright."

Wilhelm turned on his heels, crossing the planks of the docks to the cobblestone streets of Rosengoth. The city lights were already dimming to make up for the rising sun. In a way, he was glad that he had found his suitcase and, more importantly, the Watcher's Horn, but he had lost so much time. The ship was in such bad repair that they literally inched through the sea. Both Wilhelm and his client were detained by the Patrol, for their 'safety'. The sun was already rising and they had only just reached port. Of course this meant they could depart immediately for the Vanathul mountain ranges and, finally, see Phsara Ikarvoi, but that meant going on sleepless. Wilhelm was tired enough to sleep the day away, which definitely wasn't an option. A few hours, at least, were necessary.

Lorena had been waiting at the sides of the street, rising to her feet as Wilhelm approached. She could tell from Wilhelm's face that his bodyguard was no where to be found, and yet Lorena's face itself didn't seem quite as fatigued as Wilhelm's, and no where near as concerned about Mirrah's safety.

"So what's our plan now?"

Wilhelm sighed again. "We should find a place to sleep, at least until noon. No longer. I'd rather not walk through Vanathul mountains at night." He took off at a steady pace, Lorena falling in step beside him. Wilhelm gestured down the street. "It's late, but we should be able to find an inn somewhere to sleep."

Lorena cast an odd look down at Wilhelm. "And what about your bodyguard?"

"There's no reason to delay ourselves. I know it sounds cruel, but I'm sure Mirrah can handle herself. I trust this is acceptable?"

The woman let out a light laugh, one that turned Wilhelm's eyes up towards Lorena. She had an unusually carefree grin on her face. "I suppose boys can be merciless as well. It's fine with me."

A slight frown crossed Wilhelm's face. Her voice seemed to match up perfectly with the expression that was on her face. He wasn't one to judge a person, but pairing this with the woman he had seen on the ship, the one that seemed to enjoy toying with the pirate, they both just seemed like different people. He shook his head, knocking the thoughts out of place, a feat that wasn't hard to do considering how tired he was. He nodded back towards Lorena, smiling the practiced smile that he was so good at.

"Alright, then. There's an inn here. Let's stop for the night."