Uru'baen was a buzz of excitement with the ball that was rapidly approaching. Galbatorix held one every moonturn for the lords and ladies of his court. All the finest tailoring shops were booked weeks in advance to make the glamorous outfits which would be worn by the socially elite, food was brought in from the finest bakeries around to please their palates, and only the most talented ministrels had what it took to be allowed inside the castle. The guest list was very exclusive, and often varied with Galbatorix's moods. It was considered a shame, a scandal, or a sure sign of your impending doom if you weren't invited. Many a lord or lady has been known to have groveled at Galbatorix's feet to regain their place in his court, and quite a few of them did not succeed.

Murtagh's thoughts were interrupted when the seamstress finished her work and stepped away from him. He looked down at his tailored clothing with a defeated sigh, trying not to appear repulsed by how much he looked like his father in the red ensamble. In the mirror, he could see the reflection of ladies staring at him through the window with wide doe eyes, causing him to roll his eyes. They knew nothing about who he was or what he was capable of. All they saw was the beauty of his face, the lean-muscularness of his body, and how his manhood made a sizely bump in his tights.

"Tut tut, Murtagh. No need to be so dramatic." Galbatorix said as he came in, surveying the boy with shrewd eyes. "You look as you should, a true Rider among common men."

"Must we have these balls?" Murtagh grumbled as he hopped off the stool he'd been standing on for the past few hours.

Galbatorix laughed. "You're just like your father when he was going to attend his first gala, in appearance as well as attitude. And I will tell you the same thing I told him: I wish we did not neet to have them, but alas we are surrounded by petty fools who feel the need to strut about like peacocks during mating season. They aren't even worth the name aristocrat if you ask me, even if having lords is necessary when one goes to battle, and the ladies do their duty of warming their beds after a blood-filled fight."

"I thought that's what the brothels were for."

Galbatorix laughed again, slapping him on the back. "You are certainly obstinate tonight, my boy. Rest assured, the local establishments of such nature do not lack visiting lords any more than the common among us. As long as the coin is good, they don't care. Now come on, we need to return to the castle so we can get this party over with. I like them about as much as you do, you know."

Murtagh scowled, though whether it was because of Galbartorix calling him "my boy", or the fact that he had no real choice but to follow his king somewhere he didn't want to go was debatable. At least there were soldiers between him and the press of people, in particular all the women that had been making doe eyes at him through the window of the shop they'd paid a visit to for him to get his final fitting and recieve his clothing. The outfit he wore was the first of many more in a trunk being brought back with them, he knew, and needless to say he didn't have the excuse that he had nothing to wear. On the contrary, he had too many fine things and it was a waste of apparel and money in his opinion, but as often as he'd stated that to Galbatorix, he'd been ignored. So he was stuck with a new ensamble for each night till the ball was over two weeks from now. He found himself fervently wishing this was the last gathering, though he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Sulking again, Murtagh?" A familiar elbow nudged his side.

He looked down at his best friend Alianna as she joined them along with Lady Aerin, lips twitching. "Yes. You look lovely in that new dress. The blue brings out your eyes."

She gave him a mock curtsey, which made him smile more. "Yeah? And your outfit makes you blend in with your dragon."

"Apparently my new calling in life is to be a chameleon." His voice dripped with sarcasm, getting rewarded when his friend laughed genuinely, a gift in halls like these. He gave her a grin when Galbatorix was distracted, feeling a little better. When Aliana was with him, every burden he carried seemed lighter than it had before. They'd been best friends since children, having grown up together in Uru'baen while Alianna's father trained his. Now Alianna trained Murtagh and served Lady Aerin as handmaid, while he was Galbatorix's dragonrider and second-in-command. She's the only family I have left, now that Eragon and I fight on different sides. He thought, silently cursing his and Thorn's fate. The poor kit had not asked to be a prisoner upon hatching, nor to become a fully grown male before his time. Cheers jolted him back to the present, and he found himself standing on the dias overlooking the ballroom with the king and the two women. Withholding a sigh, he raised his hand in greeting and forced a smile.

The room grew silent as Galbatorix and Aerin joined hands, walking slowly down the stairs to the center of the dance floor. With a nod from the king, the orchestra struck up a lively tune, and everyone watched as Uru'baen's most famous couple twirled across the room. It was several minutes before the others took the hands of their chosen partners and join in on the revelry, though it was more because Galbatorix and Aerin were an amazing sight moving to and fro than anything else. Aliana and Murtagh stayed where they were on top of the dias, watching the glittering forms of people as they passed by since they had no desire to mingle just yet. They spoke of this and that, munching on finger foods in a comfortable manner till their king and his lady rejoined them, away from the rest of the party. Many lords and ladies approached with permission, lavishing Galbatorix with flattering words of praise concerning the excellence of the ball, which he returned with his usual elegance, but Murtagh could see how disgusted he was with these people who couldn't see beyond their own noses.

Peacocks indeed. But not all of them are like that. He reminded himself as Galbatorix offered his arm to Lady Aerin and the two disappeared from the throne room. He extended his hand to Aliana. "May I have this dance?"

"Yes." She said wirth a smile, taking his hand and they walked down to the dance floor together.

He wrapped one arm around her lower back, his hand holding hers twining tighter with it. Slowly they moved across the floor, and when the song was over, he escorted Aliana back to her room. "After this posturing party is over, I'll be riding out on Thorn on royal business."

"Seeking Eragon again?"

"No, this time it's Oromis and his gold dragon. We have reason to believe they are heading to Gi'lead, so I'm to head him off." Murtagh's sigh indicated how much he didn't like the idea, but that he had to. "I'm to bring him back alive, if I can."

She raised an eye brow. "I shall expect our king to call on my healing skills then, though I know nothing about elves' anatomy."

Murtagh favored her with a small smile. "That won't stop you."

"No, it won't. Good night, Murtagh." She smiled back at him just visibly.

He have her a half bow and watched her disappear into her room, waiting until he heard the door securely lock behind her before going to his own, lost in thought.