While the colors light up your face.

“I’m glad you could make it!” he said to them, his words encouraging them to continue on with the party. Some did, but the governors had accumulated at the bottom of the steps, waiting for Larkin to descend from atop. He stood with Tic at his side for a moment longer, peering across the crowds at these people. They were his, and they shared his views and talents. They themselves sat on thrones as magnificent as his, and drank wine from gold cups. He smiled, and held his head high as he came down to level with those waiting for him.

Larkin knew what they were going to question him about. It was rare that he kept something important from them, and behind smiling faces were concerned minds. He would be telling them soon enough, later in the night when they were dizzy with drink, and eager to have the wandering wives and husbands in their guest rooms for the rest of the night. It was best if they slept on such a grand idea. It would not seem so radical in the morning. He wondered what secrets the singers and dancers kept, wondered if they were here to spy on him, wondered if they had sent someone for their missing part, and considered telling them in private.

The seven men and two women that waited for him gave him a shallow bow before releasing their compliments on this particular gathering. Each time they visited, the more amazed they were of him. He smiled with modesty, dismissing the flattery with a wave of his hand.

“I anticipate the news you keep from us,” said the governor of Ventinia, her voice sarcastic. Larkin’s smile did not waver. He admired this woman. She had been the power behind the throne of her husband for quite some time, until she finally had the nerve to strangle him in his sleep. Larkin had actually encouraged her to do it - he hated the man, and destroying another small empire would have gained attention from the capital. His wife had been easy to manipulate, and her city worked to Larkin’s advantage now.

“How are we suppose to celebrate when we don’t even know what we’re celebrating?” asked Convinio Cora with a chuckle. Celebrating blindly would not inhibit him in the least. He stopped a passing servant and took a glass of especially potent liquid from his tray. He tested it, taking a small sip, and his nostrils flared. His face turned red, and he took another.

“Don’t worry yourselves,” said Larkin. He waved the servant over, who hadn’t wandered far. The governors crowded around him, each taking a glass. The liquid was clear and scentless, but if you were to dip in your finger, you’d taste it on your tongue. Some of them did just this. The glass might last them all night. It was fatal if drank too quickly, and very addictive. It lifted your spirits immediately, though, and Larkin looked to his side at Tic, who stared in spite of himself.

The music slowly gained attention of the younger partiers, and the center of the room was evacuated as they took over, lively music invoking rather vulgar, violent dancing.

Some of the governors left to find themselves companions to enjoy the music with. Others stayed, their curiosities aroused by the boy on Larkin’s arm. One man, who was especially infatuated with Larkin, pointed a rude finger and questioned. He hadn’t expected a glare from his host. The man frowned, and lowered his finger, asking no more. He lifted his chin and turned, stalking away to join those on their search for enjoyment.

The bright lights of the chandelier above suddenly dimmed to tiny spots of light, only the hypnotic orange flames from the torches on the wall gave much light to see. Gems and stones and beads and dresses sparkled and illuminated in the flickering shadows.

Larkin snatched one of the last glasses from the tray before the servant was forced to move on, and handed it to Tic.