Thin lines.

Of course Ergot saw the anger in the man's eyes. He didn't know who he was, nothing was read or seen or heard and he was shooed off to play more music. Of course. Ergot sat in his corner and cursed at himself, so disappointed. The voices had gone silent. Still there, but silent and unwavering waiting for a mistake and it injured, oh did it injure.

The waltzing people around Ergot sickened him, and no energy was there to swoon some lovelies. Grabbing his head, Ergot bowed and sighed at himself, hunched and in pain. A terrible headache had begun, not 2 minutes from being the centre of attention. Why, why was this occurring at such an important time. He needed to know the ruler, the lovely boy. As a pink haired female walked around, Ergot looked up, rubbing his temples. Odd people were around. The voices sat up, in a circle, murmuring about all these things that stood out like sore thumbs. A few voices reached out to touch him, lovely Ergot, yes; we know the pain, but no. Pushed away and yelled at as his mind snapped back into this ball room.

Another pause in the music.

A few eyes.

Ergot grabbed the lute and strummed roughly. Just playing randomly to soothe. Continuing as the night wore on.