The policeman in front of Luke, strapped tightly in his military uniform with his head tilted slightly upwards as he gazed down the length of his nose, had meant no offense with his appearance before the nobleman. And normally Luke would have accosted the policeman of his manner of holding himself, looking absolutely silly as he somehow managed to look down at the taller Luke, but manners and the social hierarchy seemed so pointless at the time. Even now, as the two stood in the corner of the foyer, made smaller by the mass of nobles and ladies lining the walls like tapestries, Luke could care less that here he was, standing in his sleeping garb (Luke hardly had any time to change out when the police fetched him) gawking at the policeman before him. Luke let out a slow breath as his brow tightened into a knot. He had to say it again. Sanity urged a second echo, possibly even a third.

"My gods..."

The policeman before him curtly nodded, obviously unused to the attention a low ranking officer was given by nobles but finding the consequences rather satisfying. He shifted his weight, the sheath at his side rattling with the motion. The man spoke with an accent that only blossomed in the slums of the city, a sound Luke found utterly painful and grotesque. Well, if he weren't busy trying to process the words the man was saying.

"T'at's right, ser. Found 'im dead as a dung bee'tle three days ago, they did."

Luke pressed a hand to his head, feeling a familiar headache submerge itself back into the crevices of his mind. "Three days? That was...It wasn't even a day past their wedding!"

"It's a cryin' shame, I know! Queen Hilde 'ad just come by that nigh', dressed like moonlight, she was! And to think t'at the moment she opened that door she finds Kristopher all sliced up like he was. The fair lady darn near screamed her heart out and fainted right on the spot t'at the lady maids all thought she gone and died too!"

"Someone would attempt an assassination while all three nations were watching...?"

"T'at weren't no assassination, ser! T'at were downright murder, I tell you!"

Luke lifted his head, the sleep deprived expression on his face only barely masking his incredulity. The policeman only nodded knowingly, attempting to look down the length of his chin now. "We ain't supposed to go tellin' no one 'bout King Kristopher's death, but everyone's gonna know by sundown tonight, you can bet yer chicken's eggs on t'at."

It would've only been polite to ignore the policeman. All the other options in Luke's mind would've been cruel. No doubt the entire room was abuzz with the death of the newly crowned king. Queen Hilde, though she wasn't present in the foyer, was probably sitting in her room, trying to fan away her grief (if there was any at all). Luke couldn't even process what was going through the minds of the old kings and queens of the nations, but chances are, mourning wasn't first on their minds.

The policeman, finding that Luke was more preoccupied with the worldly crisis than the policeman's self image, took that as his cue to find another noble to pester. "Well, I best be gettin' back to me duties." He clapped his heels together and thrust his fist against his chest.

"Hold on a second--" Luke drew his hand from his face, pushing his glasses deeper on his nose. "Why did you gather all the nobles here? Surely you don't suspect one of us to be the assassin." Surely you don't suspect me to be the assassin.

Luke had recognized more than half of the nobles present in the foyer as guests of the wedding. More importantly, the nobles were a mixture of Peltian and Griswold citizens. All of the Hagar nobles including himself were present (though Luke still had yet to see Dr. Zachariah in the crowd). Originally he considered this to be for the nobles' protections from a killer, but the armaments of the soldiers in the room were less showy as they were during the wedding and more capable of killing. If anything the room felt more like a prison. The growing tension amongst the nobles proved as much.

And yet the response Luke received from the policeman was the last thing he expected.

"Oh no, ser. We already know who done it."

Luke's expression flattened. His mouth even drew agape the slightest bit, something he never did in public. "What?"

"Why, it was Sir Arthur's kid."

"What?!" Luke found his hand returning to his head before he realized it. "Cedric Lowell? Of Pelta Lunata? That Cedric Lowell?"

"'Course it were, ser. Plain as day! We only keepin' you here as courtesy to them Peltians. Givin' them that benefit of the doubt. We tellin' them we're investigatin', but there ain't much call fer that. You'll be 'llowed to leave first thing in the mornin'."

"Stop stop. A moment, please." Luke pursed his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut. He spoke deliberately, slapping the air with his hand with each phrase he said. "Cedric Lowell. Of Pelta Lunata. Assassinated Kristopher Vilenthrope of Griswold."

The policeman frowned. "Like I said, it were plain as day, it was. Ser Lowell's only been showin' off his sword tricks to every lady I know. Everybody an' there neighbors know all 'bout Ser Lowell's fancy pants skills. T'ere even was this mark in the King's chamber, shaped like a cross, it was. Why it won't be no different if he gone and signed his name on King Kristopher's corpse, bless his soul."

Luke couldn't help but bury his face into his hands now, not even bothering to remove his glasses before hand. "My gods. That boy is as retarded as I thought he would be."

"Now if you don't mind, ser. I best be gettin' back to me rounds, or the boss'll have me head." He saluted once more and finally turned to leave.

Luke didn't bother replying back to the policeman. Or lifting his head out from his hands. He took a moment to look for a seat around him, but took to standing when he discovered all the seats nearby were taken by woman couldn't bother to stand in their frilly night skirts and gowns. The man almost felt like he was going to faint himself.

The peace treaty was good as dead now. The truce between nations was as good as dead now. Peace in general was a good as dead now. War was inevitable. Just because some hormone raging teenager went a bit too far with his wine. If anything, the tension in the room was more akin blood lust. He felt as if the first battle of the war were to break out here. No doubt if the military figureheads had not removed their armaments before hand, there would be blood shed. But that didn't stop them from sending daggers from their eyes, hands hovering at their hips as if grappling the handles of their swords.

But what got Luke even more was his own future in this blooming atmosphere. Where did Hagar stand in this matter? More importantly, where did the airship engineers stand in this matter? Luke lifted his head out of his hands in a moment of morbid realization. "My gods, they're going to have me build warships."

It wasn't as if Hagar were going to get involved in war, their stance on neutrality ensured that. But it wouldn't stop Griswold from blaming Hagar for the king's murder. After all, Kristopher did die on Hagar territory. It was plausible enough. Plausible enough for Hagar to feel the need to boost their military strength. The possibility was slim, but it was there and growing with each moment he spend dwelling on the thought. The possibility of him working on this project with August on the other hand, was quickly becoming hair-thin. If anything, the construction of a large scale engine capable of lifting, say, an entire army into the skies would bring more suspicious eyes and war machines towards Hagar than away. The moment anyone with any authority in Hagar discovered Luke's association with such a machine, no doubt they would can the project and put him on probation of some sorts.

Luke almost couldn't believe the thoughts that were now fluttering to mind. Griswold had to apologize. Hael, Luke wasn't even apart of the Griswold nation nor bore any patriotic feelings for them, but there had to be some kind of atonement on their part. Luke would even bring himself to kneel before King Vilenthrope if he needed to. But there was an easier way to do that. One that would be more effective.

He turned his eyes to scanning the crowd, looking for the First Lieutenant. I need to get to King Ascoth... What better way to stop growing tensions of war but with a mediator?