I kept an attentive eye on the room around me, filled to the brim with the dictator's officials, their families, merchants and others. They all had one thing in common: they bowed to the dictator, supported him either from greed or moral repulsiveness.

You're no different, Shaw. I thought to myself. You're here just like the others are. 

The first violinist gave a deep nod, the scroll of his instrument dipping below the stand before him. I brought my bow across the strings of my own violin, savoring the layer of sound that melded with the other instruments: another violin, a cello and a viola. It was beautiful and enthralling. I wished I could give myself completely to it, but that was not why I was there.

My focus drifted from the music to the people around me. I took note of what they wore, who they talked to, how they talked and even more. I tucked it all away in the back of my mind. I would need it later when my boss would gruel me for the information I'd learned.

I caught sight of the Triad of Hell as they were called by the people. There were little defining features about them on account of their veils. I couldn't tell what color their hair was. I couldn't see their eyes. Even their ages and facial shapes were concealed by the fabric that covered their faces down to the end of their chins. At each of their throats winked a Collar.

For the woman, it was made of whorls of silver and sapphires, cut into the shape of a bear--the head laid against her right collar bone, its body wrapping around her neck until it met her left collarbone. It was beautiful for its horribleness and horrible for its beauty. The Bear Collar didn't belong on her neck.

The brown skinned man's collar was of gold and lacked the beauty of the Bear Collar. His was indeed horrible, not for its beauty, but for its fierceness. The Lion Collar met in the center of the man's breastbone, just in between his collarbones. Joining the two sides of the Collar together was the rendered image of a roaring lion made completely out of gold. It's eyes were made of rubies and glinted dangerously in the lavish light of the party. It was a terrifying sight.

The other man's Collar stood out stark black against his skin. It was made of glittering black obsidian and looked like the wings of a raven. Each feather had been carefully and expertly crafted so much that it looked like you could touch the wings and they'd feel like that of a silky raven's. The tips of the feathers met to close just below his collarbones. The Raven Collar seemed to soak up all the light, just as its owner soaked up the secrets of the people. The Collar seemed to whisper everything and nothing at once. It was a living mystery that paled whomever looked at it.

I felt my chest tighten as I looked at those Collars. For Orsolya, who's life had been ruined by the bear. For Ari, who's life had been ruined by the lion. For myself, who's life had been ruined by the raven.

Rage boiled in my blood as I took in the Triad of Hell. It was strenuous controlling myself. I wanted nothing more than to snarl at them.

The thought of my friends put pressure behind my eyes. I drew my gaze away from the Collars and the people wearing them, forcing my eyes to the familiar black and white of the sheet music before me.

The hours passed with little fanfare. I took my mental notes and played music for the dancing people in the center of the room. A whorl of gossamer and silk flew by my face at the musician's corner. The Bear Collar winked at me from its place at the woman's throat. With the veil on, it was hard to tell if the woman was beautiful or not, but her clothes were gorgeous. White silk and velvet clung to her, fanning out around her as she danced. Her veil was trimmed in lace and on her head sat an elaborate headpiece wrought of silver. Sapphires winked in the light of the room off of their place in the headpiece she wore. It circled around what was presumably her forehead and wrapped around to the back of her head where chains of silver looped down her back and up to again.

She looked like an ice queen.

I stopped staring and returned to my music page. Looking at her was too much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evening turned into night, the guests made their way out and the servants began cleaning up the waste of the aristocrats. I gently set down my violin, nestling it in its velvet lined case. The instrument had been my mother's and was my most cherished possession, all I had left of my family.

The musicians and I packed up the stands, saying our goodbyes and planning for our next rehearsal. I watched them leave before slipping my phone out of my pocket and glancing down at the message displayed on the screen from boss. It said one word: Report. I slinked away, in search of my boss, so I could relay the information I'd garnered.

I saw him, leaning against the stones that made up the wall. He was all dressed up in his finery from the gala.

I slid next to him. "Sir." I muttered clutching the handle of my violin case.

"Report." He barked as two people appeared out of the shadows. I knew they had been there. They always joined for reports, information was powerful.

And power kept us safe.