Moriah had been lucky, the house had been empty when she'd arrived. She'd stripped away the ruined robes, the battered armor, and had soaked away the worst of weeks of filth in hot water scented with ampreh oil. She'd been too exhausted to consider finding food, and had simply rolled herself up in her covers and slept the sleep of the dead.

"Moriah." The voice was gentle, but it had the hint that it had repeated itself more than once. "Come on, sleepyhead, time to wake up."

"Rasmus?" She opened her eyes to dimness. Her curtains were pulled shut, but there was a blade of illumination from the hallway window, visible through her open door. But she could sense his comforting bulk, sense his smile even though he was just a darker shadow.

"Time for breakfast. I will warn you...Annlyn is here, and she is most put out with you."

"She didn't want me to come after you." Moriah had never been this stiff, this sore, in her entire life. Somehow it hadn't been this bad on the way out, but now that she had truly slept, every muscle she had screamed dissension.

"Well, it can't be said now that she has absolutely no sense. She had that one right." His shadow moved into the light, and he glanced over his shoulder at her, then shrugged. "Moriah. Please, don't ever do it again. I love you as if you were my own blood." He closed the door behind him, and she growled, settling back into the depths of the luxurious bed. It was a struggle to drag herself from it, an even larger struggle to decide on a dress and descend the stairs.

"Moriah." There was a level of condemnation in Annlyn's voice that Moriah had little experience with. The woman looked perfect, as always, but her glare was far from proper. "Well, I suppose I should be thankful...that you both returned alive and..." her eyes fell on Moriah, trying to lower herself into a chair with the least amount of pain, "Mostly intact. What's wrong with you?"

"Flew a bit. Fought a bit. Slept on some rocks. Flew a bit more. Slept on some more rocks." Suddenly ravenous, Moriah began to pile food on her plate, ignoring Annlyn's sickened fascination. "Stiff."

"So, I have to know." Annlyn leaned forward, lacing her fingers together, a play of prismatic color from the stones in her rings shining against the wall. "Who told you he was missing? I will kill them, I swear."

"You did."

Rasmus burst into laughter, and he buried his face in his hands. "What?" He managed through sputters.

"I came home and overheard her talking to the High Priest. I started that night. Gathered all of the gear I thought I would need, found out where I needed to go, and left before dawn."

"You're safe." He frowned, studying the remains of his own meal as if it had some answers he'd desperately like to get from it. "Moriah, what you did was foolish. No, it was more than that. It was idiotic. I can't express how very disappointed I am with you..."

Annlyn's disapproval was no more vicious to her than the beat of a butterfly's wings against her cheeks, but Rasmus's words were a spear to the gut. "Well." She was shocked at the even serenity of her own voice, even if her stomach crawled uncomfortably into the back of her throat. "At least you're here alive so that you can be disappointed and express that disappointment to me." She considered throwing her plate, just for the show, but again that serenity held her and she merely picked it up when she stood. "You're welcome, Rasmus. I think I'll take breakfast in my room, thank you."

Once she'd made it up the stairs, and through the door, the serenity faded and she let go of a blistering cacophony of profanities, yanking the curtains open and stepping onto the small balcony beyond. Her knees turned to water and she buried her face in the velvet fall of fabric, bitter tears soaking into them.

There was the heavy tread of feet in the hallway, and a knock. "No!" She hissed at the door, "I do not want to talk to you!" I love you.

"Fine." He growled, and she heard him stalk away, back downstairs. A few moments later, the front door below her opened, and slammed close, and she glared when he became visible. If he felt it, he gave no acknowledgment, disappearing around the bend of the roadway. "Bastard."

"Difficult morning already?"

She'd know that voice anywhere, pitched to make it difficult to overhear. The shadows loved him, held him, and obscured him from the curious on the street below.

"Aseph." In Pandaemonium?

"Aseph. In Pandaemonium." He said it as if he'd heard her thoughts spoken aloud. "He adores you, you know."

"I know."

"Heh. You going to eat this?"

"You can have some of it. But yes, I am going to eat the rest." She sat down next to him, her back up against the doors, the plate between them. "I didn't expect to see you here, ever. And I didn't expect to hear from you for awhile."

"Hmmn." His voice dropped, and he shushed her with a quickly raised finger. "Annlyn." He whispered, pulling back to hide from view. She tilted her head, hearing nothing, until finally a soft knock, almost a scratch.

"Moriah? Please?" The door cracked, and Annlyn peered around. "Ah. I have to go, but I was thinking, maybe we could do some shopping later?"

Shopping? Moriah was ready for a scathing reply, except that Aseph gave a suddenly sharp, affirming nod. Was he insane? Go shopping with Annlyn? "That would be nice." She didn't actually say that, did she? But Annlyn's radiant smile was almost worth it. "See you this afternoon, then!" Annlyn laughed, shutting the door. The second it was closed, Aseph moved into the room, far out of sight of the windows.

"Nothing worse than a social butterfly with an assassin's calling." He grumbled, leaning against a wall. "Tell me when she's gone."

"Gone." Moriah noted when she had followed Rasmus's path away. "Why the hell did I just agree to go shopping with her?"

He gave her an uncertain look, wary and shy suddenly. "Because I thought you might need a gown." He whispered, reaching under his coat and pulling out an envelope. He stared it for a long moment, before frowning and handing it to her. "If you'll be my escort, of course."

She slid open the envelope, and the invitation within was high society, hand embossed, the finest paper, the Governor's seal. Annlyn received these often, but Moriah never had. "Or even not... You have your own invitation, I mean I have your invitation, you'd still need a gown..." He faded into an uncomfortable silence.

"I'd be honored to be your escort."

He sat, nodding in ill disguised relief. "I imagined this as going much more gracefully than it is." He admitted ruefully. "Moriah, I have to admit, I do not understand how to do this. For the love of all that's holy, you have to help me do this right."

"Right?"

"This is important." And he was quite correct, it was. A ball, in his honor, given by the Governor. All eyes would be on him, he was an enigma, an unknown quantity.

"Do you have money?" It was a crass question to ask, the assumption should always be that he did, of course.

"I...do. Why? You need me to pay for the gown?"

"Gah, no. That's what Annlyn is for." She bolted down her half of the breakfast, "I need you to pay for the jewelry. It's supposed to come with the invitation, by courier, in the evening."

"Oh, right. If you say so."