26 years ago, baby Hismar had been found at the steps of Ikrandaru Majar in Dwikatan, Tanabontang, just a few kilometers outside Smajawangsa. Only wrapped in a piece of black cloth, the masters of Ikrandaru Majar had brought him in before the hungry wild dogs feasted on his soft flesh. When the masters had unwrapped him, they had found the ring attached to his little thumb. 

Of course they had tried to sell it. But the poor merchants downtown didn't have enough money to buy that piece of jewelry. A jeweler who was an old friend of the masters had advised them to keep it, in case someone came to claim the boy. Years passed, yet nobody had come for him. 

Hismar himself had first found out about the ring's connection to him after he had thrown it to the face of a tax collector. He had told him to give him time to get some money, but they hadn't listened. The tax collector had been delighted to receive the ring, but he had returned the next day for the ring had brought him nothing but bad luck. After the tax collector had left, the masters had scolded him that he shouldn't have given him his ring. 

"It may hold a secret of where you came from," said one of the masters at the time. 

The visitation by the Shadow that had invited him to the capital city just opened a path for him to find out more about the ring. They all knew that such expensive ring must come from Smajawangsa. That city was occupied by the royal family, lords, noblemen, and all types of wealthy people. There must be a clue about his ring in that city.

The masters, knowing his true intention, had decided to let him go with one warning, "You may be able to discover where you came from. But it may not be what you hope for. You may even hate yourself upon finding out. Because Smajawangsa, my boy, is where all the precarious things take root. All the lies, tricks and deceits that blossom all through the nine regions are only to pacify the lies, tricks and deceits in Smajawangsa. And for that, we wish you a safe journey and a joyful revelation." 

 

The other master had assured him with kinder words, "We pray that you will be united with the ones who will truly love you."

With that many prayers and blessing, Hismar had gone on his way to Fort Hallow. And here he was, getting shakily alarmed over the fact that he might be the son of a Smajawangsa nobleman. 

Three carriages had been waiting on the driveway of Nakyagara Palace. One to carry the Prince Regent, led by Gaptin Jantra Kawa in his bronze armor. One to carry the Crown Prince, led by Karunal Sarhan Turi in his silver armor. One more to carry the secretaries, Renggi Nanta Dipaswirih and Sra Ginang Wisasya, led by Tertam Ayur Miwah in his steel armor. Soon, the convoy finally left the palace complex.

Darga was just nodding off when it was time to change the shift. He left his post to the servant's house in the south side of the main palace, hoping to catch Inggi if she was there at all. 

The older servants told him to leave, because it's restricted for female servants. He explained that he just wanted to check if his sister was there, but they told him to stay in the waiting area. 

"You must be Inggi's brother." 

A young woman came from behind the older servant. She carried a jaskap, a book and a charcoal pencil. A measuring tape was hung on her neck, while a pincushion was strapped to the back of her left hand. 

"Yes," answered Darga. "Do you know where she is?" 

"She's probably still attending to Princess Tastri," answered the young woman. 

Before she kept going, the older servant asked, "Have you found your scissors, Miss?"

"No," answered the young woman. "It's alright. Perhaps it's Dathi who mistook it. Otherwise, I'll just buy another one in the market. Thank you." 

The young woman walked to the terrace of the building while talking to Darga, "Her Highness seems to like her. I don't think she'll be around anytime soon." 

"Is that so?" Darga followed her. "How do you know that?" 

"From all of my time in the palace, I've never seen Princess Tastri speaks as much as she speaks to her," the young woman laid down the jaskaps on a table. "Also, she reads. The princess told us that she has never had a literate maid before." 

"Oh, she does more than reading," Darga chuckled. "Sometimes it helps, sometimes it does the opposite." 

"You should be proud to have such an accomplished sister," the young woman started to focus on the jacket.

"Say, how do you know that she has a brother who works here?" Darga pulled up a chair and sat in front of her. "What else did she tell you about me?" 

Since the young woman seemed surprised to see him sitting down, Darga quickly stood up, "Oh, forgive me, my lady." 

Darga should have known her status from how she presented herself. This young woman was wearing a white bikaya, unlike the caretakers and maids who only wore nayin like a long, strapless dress. Her hair was also arranged in a high bun and not in halo braid style like all the women in this building. Besides, the older maid earlier called her 'Miss'. She was not a servant. 

The young woman smiled. "I'm not a lady," she said. "You can sit if you'd like." 

"Oh," Darga hesitatingly sat back down. "But you can't be one of us. Am I right?" 

"My official title is the royal dressmaker," she kept doing her work. "My name is Nisti Dahisna." 

So she's a professional, Darga thought. She ranked higher compared to the servants, guards and other caretakers of the palace. Her position must be somewhere near Maharahi. 

"I'm Darga. Just Darga." 

"Yes, I know that. It's one of the many things Inggi told me about you." 

Darga gulped, "Did she tell her what I do here?" 

"You're one of the new personal guards for the Prince Regent who works directly under Gaptin Jantra Kawa." 

"Right," Darga finally breathed easily. "That's exactly what I do... am. Just a new personal guard."

"Does it actually pay better than being a blacksmith?" Nisti gave a suspicious glance. 

"Please don't tell me she told you about the concubine business," Darga groaned. "I'm so sorry. She didn't have to... I am... wow, am I ashamed. Look, I don't even know where to begin. I never thought the man would ask that. I mean, that's the reason why I took her here in the first place, alright? To hide from them. I got the job... Hey, wait. I don't have to tell you anything about this."

Nisti tried to show her disapproval, but she couldn't help herself from giggling hearing how frustrated Darga was while explaining himself. At the same time, Kinalu passed right behind her. Just when Darga's eyes locked with his, he teasingly smirked and gave him sign of approval. Darga replied with a quick but obvious glare, telling him to mind his own business. 

Unfortunately, Nisti noticed the glare. She was going to turn around to see who he's glaring at when Darga spoke again, "So, uh... whose jaskaps are these? My, my, I've never seen such luxurious jaskaps. Did you make these?" 

"These are the Prince Regent's jaskaps." She sighed. "Renggi Nanta Dipaswirih told me to create a copy of each. I have no idea why. And yes, it is my design."

"Oh, wow," Darga stood up and marveled at the jaskaps. He always thought they were spectacular, but he never guessed that the maker was a modest young woman who also lived in the palace. They looked like something specially made by a kooky foreign dressmakers who only accepted payment in dragon's teeth or something. "How long did it take to finish one? Weeks?" 

"Yes, two to three weeks if we're busy." 

"Which is why you need to leave her alone." 

Yes, Inggi was already standing with her hands on her hips right behind them. Her face and clothes were all dirty, as if she just plunged into a sewer. 

"Inggi!" gasped Nisti. "What happened to you?" 

"I got stumbled when I ran away from Princess Tastri's pegasus," answered Inggi. "Good thing I did, otherwise she wouldn't let me leave." She looked up at her brother, "What are you doing here? Saka Subarsang is looking for you." 

"Oh, goodness! Maharahi is waiting for me!" Nisti tapped her forehead. "I have to go now. See you later, Inggi. Nice to meet you, Darga." 

"And you, Miss Nisti," Darga politely nodded. 

"Just Nisti is fine," she gave a quick smile before rushing to Maharahi's building. 

Inggi glimpsed at Darga. Before she got to say anything, Darga turned her around so he could look at her in the eyes and ask, "Why on earth did you tell her everything?!" 

"I didn't!" Inggi yelled back. "I keep the secret about you drinking Maharahi's po..." 

"Shush!" Darga closed Inggi's mouth with his hand. "Not that everything. Sra Jat Wulakta. The debt. The concubine. You made me sound like a slave trader." 

Inggi pulled his hand down. "Would you rather me tell her about that or about the potion?" 

"Neither! Look. Once my job's done, we're out of here. No need to make friends or anything. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut." 

"You're the one who brought me here!" Inggi pointed at his chest. "I could've hidden somewhere. I could've had my own adventure. But you insist to never leave me out of your sight. As long as I don't risk your secret, I think I deserve to do whatever I want, including making friends and talking shit about my shit brother." 

Darga was silenced. It's true. Inggi could have found a more comfortable place to hide from the moneylender and his men. Darga just didn't have the heart to tell her to go and take care of herself. He might be a shit brother, but he would always keep his sister safe and protected. It's a promise he had made to his mother before she had passed away. 

"You better get yourself cleaned up," Darga stepped back. "Don't make Her Highness wait too long. I heard she likes you." 

"I read half of The Epic Story of Sra Suthawigya for her, of course she likes me," Inggi grinned again. Her eyes softened. "I'll be fine, Darga." 

Darga nodded. 

"I don't know about you, but I'll be fine anyhow," Inggi danced as she went into the hallway. "If you survive, I'll get the house and the farm. If you don't, I'll still get the house and the farm." 

She shrieked and scrammed when Darga pretended to chase her. 

The team who went to Port Utagara returned to the palace late in the afternoon. The commemoration had gone smoothly. At this point, not even Prince Tapriyasta questioned his changing voice anymore. However, Prince Basandaya asked for a detailed recount about the event, in case Prince Tapriyasta brought it up during dinner.

Although it was simply a ceremonial duty, the visitation to Port Utagara brought back so many things that interested the Prince Regent. There was a shortage of transportation from Port Utagara to the market. The commodities couldn't be moved fast enough that made the port chock full of ships.

Prince Basandaya called the concerning ministers to the Tableless Chamber to speak about this matter. The discussion went for more than an hour to find the best solution. Renggi Nanta didn't want to disturb them, but his schedule must keep going. So she asked the doormen to announce her. Not long after, Jantra Kawa opened the door, followed by the Prince.

"Shall we?" the Prince smiled at Renggi Nanta.

"Of course," Renggi Nanta let him walk in front of her. "I take it the discussion went well?"

"Thank gods, yes," Prince Basandaya nodded. "It shall be solved soon enough. We'll have many letters and bills to approve. What a busy day we're having today."

"Oh, this is nothing," Renggi Nanta chuckled. "Soon you'll go on the pilgrimage around Ranundala and you'll barely have time to brush your teeth."

The Prince suddenly stopped walking. He completely forgot about that grand event that happened every year. As it's a religious ritual, it had to be him who performed it as the head of state. They couldn't possibly try to trick the gods and the ancestors.

"What's the plan for the pilgrimage?" he asked. Due to the fact that he wasn't a crown prince, he was never taken to such journey. Thus, he was blind about the whole process.Perhaps it's best, because then it wouldn't be so strange if his body double made a mistake.

"The Crown Prince will be the main performer since this ritual is meant for the coming year," answered Renggi Nanta. "And in the coming year the Crown Prince will already be the king."

"Good," the Prince nodded in relief. "Who are we sending there? Jantra Kawa, surely."

"And Hismar, yes. They both are accustomed to such practice. They can also conduct their own janak kurat ritual during the journey. An entirely win-win situation."

"Of course, umm..." the Prince stopped walking again just before they entered the throne room. "The palace will be empty, will it not? The women will stay in Madrika Palace for our arrival. And people will know that I'll be on tour."

"Yes."

"And they don't expect me to be anywhere else."

Renggi Nanta stared closely at the Prince's yellow eyes. Even without magical power, she could easily read his mind.

"Your Highness..."

"It's the perfect time to have me in many places at once," whispered the Prince. His smile widened. "And I have so many places that I want to visit. So many things I can do instead of just visiting graves and holy sites in 25 days."

"But..." 

"Thank you, Renggi Nanta," the Prince climbed up the platform where the throne perched at the top. "I'll get back to you with all my plans."

"But... but..." Renggi Nanta could only stare helplessly. 

Behind her, a figure unfolded a red fan, hiding the smile. The chuckling voice sounded like a nail on a board to Renggi Nanta's ears. She turned around and found Maharahi folding the fan on her hand. 

"It was your idea to appoint him to be the regent, wasn't it?" she teased her. 

Renggi Nanta sighed, "I'm starting to think that it was a mistake."

 

"No, it wasn't," Maharahi strutted toward her. "You did what had to be done."

Renggi Nanta frowned. "How do you know that it had to be done? That it had to be him?"

"Like you said, I have eyes and ears everywhere," Maharahi played with her fan. "Even in the future."

"Why don't you see and hear if Prince Tapriyasta will ever become a king? 'Cause I don't think I can handle Prince Basandaya any longer than I need to, and Prince Tapriyasta..." Renggi Nanta peeked at the Crown Prince who just ran into the throne room, stumbled on his sandals, ripped his nayin, stared in horror at his glaring brother and ran back out of the throne room to get changed, "is not getting any convincing."

The light in Maharahi's eyes dimmed.  

"Oh, well, I have to go," Renggi Nanta shrugged. "I have to start working on his hideous idea. Can you please watch him for me while I drink myself to death?" 

"Oh, yes... yes, of course," Maharahi repeatedly blinked.

After the meeting ended, Prince Basandaya left the throne and changed his crown with his head gear. He then followed Prince Tapriyasta who already made his way outside the throne room. Just when he was pivoting to the right, someone pulled his arm. 

"Is it true?" Princess Tastri squeezed it tight. Her eyebrows lowered above her blazing brown eyes. "You called off my engagement with Prince Efanhar?"