Author's Notes: Well, I seem to be on a roll. This could be a good thing, or a very bad thing, depending on your opinion of my writing. Unfortunately, most of this chapter is time-killing and character exploration. I think I'm getting a good feel for the world I'm portraying, so I can focus more on the characters and the plot instead of giving info dumps about the world. Doesn't that just make you squeal in terror/glee? Another note about my mad, mad spellchecker. If you find numerous instances in which Seth becomes Set, that's my spellchecker not remembering that I added his name to the dictionary.

Chapter 3: A Second Attack

The dining hall was relatively empty the next morning, with only Atem and his Knights eating breakfast at the long table. The meal passed mostly in silence, all parties still subdued by the previous night's events. There was no lively conversation or discussion of recent events as their normally was, just scraping of spoons and knives on plates punctuated by the occasional calling for the pitcher of water.

"Miss Delitia was asking after you last night, sire," Mahaado finally said.

Atem twitched visably and set his spoon down. He wished he had been holding his knife, so that he could pointedly drive it partly into the table. "She found me," he said. "She accosted me after my bath, actually. I'm thankful for the lock on my bathroom. Without it, she may have accosted me in the bath."

"Perhaps she has a crush on you, cousin," Seth offered with a grin. Atem's cousin, and the youngest of his Knights, was far from skilled at making jokes, and looked more deranged than lecherous.

Seth's father, seated to his right, elbowed him in the side. "Do not say such things!" he chastised. Seth only rolled his eyes and took a sip of his water. "Miss Delitia is a married woman."

"There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" Kalim asked. "We are all adults here, after all. Saying such things, I mean. Not becoming involved with married women. "

Atem slapped a hand against the table and assumed the most commanding stature he could manage while remaining seated. "Married or not, I want nothing to do with that woman!" he snapped. He took a long swig of his water and settled back. "She is a greedy, crude woman with little more than a few confused moths in her head."

The room exploded in laughter, and Atem allowed himself to smile. It was funny, the image of moths flitting in and out of Delitia's painted head. He turned to Mahaado after the laughter had died down.

"Was any trace of the intruder from last night found?" he asked. "Did he remain in the palace for any length of time?"

Mahaado shook his head. "No, sire."

"Excellent. Have more guards posted at every entrance, and start a search for him. I want him found."

The Knights nodded in unison. Satisfied, Atem finished his breakfast and stood, eager to put the events at the party behind him. "Mahaado, do I have any lessons with you today?"

"Yes!" Mahaado exclaimed as if he had totally forgotten. He had apparently picked up on Atem's haste to leave. "We'd better hurry before Headmaster Anum comes storming in, asking what you and his wife were doing in the bath last night." The mage winked cheekily as a final insult, and Atem slumped. There were certain setbacks to having known the man since childhood.

Atem examined the work table in Mahaado's study as the mage prattled on about whatever spell they were supposed to be practicing that day. Even though he had become king, he still required at least some lessons to better him for the job. He picked up a small stone, turning it over in his hands, thankful that he was taking lessons with Mahaado instead of diplomacy and history with his uncle. At least Mahaado had interesting items that Atem could distract himself with. Mahaado had been forgiving of his distracted fidgetting so far, concentrating on Mana, his eager apprentice. She took twice the lessons Atem did, and had three times his enthusiasm and four times his promise in the art of magic. Mahaado had said several times that Atem was a sort of untapped well. He had the potential, but lacked the will and the skill to use it.

Mana, however, was quite the tapped well. Her potential was obvious, even if she did have serious problems controlling it. This was easily proven by the path of destruction she usually left in her wake after learning a new spell. Atem jumped to the side as a mug beside him became the latest victim of Mana's mis-fired magical abilities.

"Yeek!" she yelped as Mahaado slapped a palm against his face. "I'm sorry, Atem! I didn't think it would... explode. I only wanted to pick it up." She looked up at Mahaado with eager eyes. "Shall I try again, master?"

Mahaado sighed and mussed his apprentice's hair. "Yes, try it again, then let the king have a turn. But... don't try it on anything as liable to explode in sharp pieces."

"And nothing remotely near to me!" Atem interjected loudly. Mana winced and nodded.

Mahaado seated himself daintily on an uncluttered spot on the table while Mana focused her attention on her spell.

"You seem far away today, sire," he said. "Is something the matter?"

"Drop the 'sire', Mahaado. We're not exactly in a formal setting," Atem mumbled. He slumped backward in his seat and frowned.

"Don't evade the question, Atem," the mage said, giving him a light nudge. "What is wrong with you today? Are you still shaken by what happened at the party?"

Atem only shrugged and feigned interest in some of the papers Mahaado had set in front of him earlier. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to tell the Knight everything, but this was a game that they had played ever since they were young. He had always made Mahaado coerce him into giving any personal information. It was an old ritual, a remnant of their younger years, when the most pressing things Mahaado had to convince Atem to tell him involved either girls or things the younger boy had overheard while snooping around the palace. One heard amusing things hiding in urns, and how could a boy resist that?

"We can talk about it in private, later, if it's something embarassing," the mage offered.

The king shrugged again, averting his eyes. He blinked in mild confusion as a glove floated past him as if caught up in a powerful but very controlled updraft. Mahaado blinked as well, and followed the wafting item with his eyes.

"I told you that I could do it, master!" Mana chirped proudly. She gave her wrist a flick, and the glove hovered higher. "Now you do it!" she said, gesturing to Atem.

The glove soared swiftly into Atem's face, slapping him lightly before falling into his lap. He smirked and picked the offending object up. "You did that on purpose," he accused, his smirk broadening into a smile.

"I did not!" Mana said, giggling. "I gestured with my controlling hand without thinking!"

Mahaado hopped off the table and mussed Mana's hair again. "Of course you did, Mana. We all know you have problems with that." Mana screwed her face up in indignation, but did not defend herself. "Atem, are you ready to try?"

"Better now than never, I suppose," Atem said after some hesitation. He had never liked these sorts of spells. Mahaado usually found himself short of cups (and other breakable items) when they practiced spells that involved moving things.

The lesson went on for over an hour longer, most of Atem's attempts ending in Mahaado reminding him to 'mind the cat' and that he was 'running out of cups'.

Hours after the lesson had ended, Atem and Mahaado had stepped out into the garden to kill time before supper. They wandered the small path between the fruit-bearing trees and well-groomed topiaries of the garden a while before settling on a stone bench beside the tiny fish pond, still slightly warm from the sinking sun. They sat there, silent. Atem had heard, once, that true friends didn't need to say anything to enjoy their time together. He only understood this saying in rare moments of clarity, and this was not one of them.

"You're sort of... 'fond' of Mana, aren't you?" he asked spontaneously.

His favorite Knight laughed with an awkward smile and fidgetted. Another reminder that they hadn't quite moved on from being childhood friends, Atem figured. "Well, yes. Yes, I do."

Atem gaped, a bit stunned by Mahaado's honest answer. He knew that he and Mana were close, but he hadn't even been asking seriously! His slackjawed gape quickly transformed into a sly grin. "You don't have plans to run off and get married leaving me to search for a new Knight to replace you, do you?" he asked, nudging his friend.

"Of course not!" Mahaado sputtered indignantly. Atem smiled, marvelling at how quickly his friend's decorum and composure could dissolve and reform. "I have other things to worry about besides that. And Mana is barely old enough to be married as it is. You know that."

"She is not any younger than I, you know," Atem countered. "You and Seth have been after me about getting married for months, now."

"I... that is an entirely different matter! We joke when we say those things," Mahaado said hastily. "You are still too young to be married. I sometimes think I am too young."

"But you have thought about it," Atem observed with a smug chuckle.

"Thinking about it is unavoidable," Mahaado said matter of factly. "I would not be surprised if you had thought about it."

"Not about marrying Mana," Atem said. "Or anyone else, for that matter," he added as an afterthought.

"Then you do not think about it?" Mahaado asked. "Or do you think about marrying yourself? Even you could not be that self-centered."

Atem scowled at those words, suddenly reminded of the intruder's accusations. A sheltered, spoilt child. Was the really all he was? Even Mahaado was saying that he was self-centered. He cleared his throat. "Mahaado?"

"What is it?"

"You don't really think that I'm self-centered, do you?" he asked softly.

A strong hand patted him stiffly on the back, and the Knight shook his head with a knowing smile. "I had a feeling that that was what was troubling you," he said. "Those words made a great impression on you, I see."

Atem nodded, his expression remaing grim. "I had never thought about it that way before. If Anum is crooked, then why not me? What if power just gets inside of you and perverts you until you can't tell what's right or wrong beyond your own desires?"

"All right," Mahaado said. "You have asked me a question, and I choose to be difficult and ask a question in return. When was the last time you put your own desires before the needs of your people?"

The king paused before finally smiling as he realized what Mahaado had meant. "Never," he finally answered. "At least not knowingly."

"Exactly," Mahaado said, standing and walking off. "Now stop this foolishness, and we can join everyone for supper."

"Right," Atem said, nearly tripping on his own cape as he scrambled out of his seat to follow Mahaado.

Supper was a livelier meal than breakfast had been, with more people and more light conversation. Atem only wished that his corronation party had held this sort of light and friendly atmosphere. The whole affair had been stiflingly formal. He much preferred the informal setting he had worked to instill in the meals he shared with his Knights and family. His childhood memories were full of long, complicated, silent meals with the guests either spread out sparcely at the long table, or crammed so close that there were often arguments over whose plate belonged to whom. His uncle and cousin had been the slowest the adjust to the change, but they did not voice any displeasure they may have had.

"Mahaado tells me that you are making progress in your studies," Akunadin said with a thin smile. "I only wish that you would pay enough attention to improve when I teach you."

Atem thought bitterly, for a moment, that he would need a far better teacher to learn all the things his uncle pushed on him. He didn't say anything, of course. "I'm sure he's just bragging on me, uncle," he said humbly. "Mana's the one who managed to slap me from halfway across the room."

The old Knight stared cluelessly. It seemed that Mahaado had failed to tell him about that. A pity. It was quite a funny story, in hindsight. "How did she slap you from across the room?" he asked, puzzled.

"With a glove," Atem said, intentionally being vague. Mana giggled and nibbled a biscuit, aptly watching the entertaining scene.

"That does not clarify anything," Akunadin said flatly. "If anything, it only raises more questions."

Atem told the story in his own words, not mentioning that Mana had probably done it purposely. His uncle was prone to long rants about taking his studies seriously, and implying any intent behind the action might trigger one.

"You should take your studies more seriously, Atem," he said, casting a cold glance at Mana, who only giggled and grinned. Atem sighed. He had not avoided the rant after all.

"Oh!" Mana interjected. Atem silently thanked her for delaying the impending lecture. For a moment, at least. "Is it true that Headmaster Anum's wife followed Atem into the bath last night?"

"No!" Atem snapped. He could feel his eye twitching involuntrarily. How had that fact gotten skewed in less than a day? "That is far from the truth! I saw her in the hallway after I left the bath."

"Mahaado said she accosted you," Mana said. Akunadin was shaking his head woefully at the perverted turn the conversation had taken.

Atem turned to Mahaado with a cool glare. "You told?"

"She asked why you seemed so upset," the mage explained nervously. "I thought, at that time, that that might have been the problem."

Everyone but Akunadin and the parties involved were snickering at this point. For all his Knights' dedication, Atem was still amazed at their willingness to have a laugh at his expense. IT was downright unprofessional.

"Did you have to tell her that she followed me into the bath?"

"I did not tell her that!" Mahaado defended. "She must have heard that from someone else!"

"But I only told... Oh, never mind" Atem said with a defeated sigh. "I'm going to bed, unless we have any business to finish."

The knights shook their heads. Mahaado and Shaada looked slightly guilty, Mahaado for letting the odd story leak to Mana, and Shaada for laughing at Atem's expense. Atem flashed them a smile before walking off to his room. He still didn't feel like going through the formalities of conducting official business after supper when it could wait for morning.

He made his way up the winding stair well to the palace's third and highest floor. The chill of early spring was just now making itself known, seeping into the stone walls around him and sapping the heat from his body. He was suddenly very, very eager to reach his chambers and settled down into his warm bed.

The door to his chambers was open, which was far from unusual these days. The palace's most experienced housekeeper had finally gotten married, and to a wealthy man. She had resigned, forcing Atem to hire some younger, less experienced maids to pick up the slack. None of the new girls had gotten the hang of closign doors in their wake after cleaning a room.

Atem stepped inside, grateful that the addleminded woman had at least left a lantern burning on his bedside table so that he could find his way around the room without shattering his toe on a stray ottoman. He began seraching through his dresser, seeing as she had also neglected to lay sleeping clothes out for him. How could she remember something trivial like the lamp, and then totally forget something she had been trained to do? He changed quickly into a nightshirt and scrambled into bed, glad to leave the chilly floor behind in favor of soft blankets and pillows. With a soft puff, the lantern was out agan. He could not stand to sleep with a light so close to his head. It also posed a bit of a hazard, since he had a habit of striking out in his sleep when his dreams were unpleasant. If he struck the lit lantern, well, that would be far from good. The king sighed a curled up on his side, pulling the blankets close around him.

He soon regretted not leaving the lamp lit. He was dozing between sleep and wakefulness when there was a soft click in the room. It sounded very much like a door being opened. Stupid, scatterbrained... he hadn't locked it!

"Who's there?" he asked, unmoving. No answer. No sound. He grew tense and considered crying out.

There was movement behind him, or so he thought he heard. A strong hand clamped over his mouth and nose, and a cloyingly sweet, slightly acrid scent overwhelmed his senses, making his nose sting and his eyes water. He stiffened, thrashed, and grew still as he felt strength leaving him. His eyes shut slowly.