Nicholas heaved a heavy sigh and addressed the footman standing at attention in front of his desk. "His Highness requested what change?" The liveried man bowed to him and repeated himself. 

   "His Highness has instructed that all the gilded lilies from the flower arrangements for the ball be replaced with red roses." Yes, that was the drivel he had heard the first time. How did the man impart this with a straight face? Nicholas tapped his fingertips on the surface of his desk. 

   "If I remember correctly, the lilies were the central flowers for the pieces. They were specially requested at great expense by the Crown Prince himself. And now he's asking us to change all the flower arrangements in the palace? The same pieces he had approved four days ago?" The footman remained standing at attention in front of him, not attempting to answer his questions. His face did not betray an opinion on the subject of flower pieces, and every line in his body appeared to be attempting to convey his wish to obey whatever instructions Nicholas might have for him. He really would have to find a moment to compliment the steward on the training of his staff. Their composure in the face of sheer nonsense was commendable. 

   "Has His Highness forgotten what day of the week it is again? Has it slipped his mind that the ball begins in exactly two hours?" And that we have more to accomplish at this ball than just twirling around the dance floor? Nicholas pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed silently. "Did he happen to mention what made him request this change?" 

   "Not in so many words, Your Excellency, but Marco, His Highness's valet, did mention that His Highness had changed his choice of attire for this evening." The man took Nicholas's silence as permission to continue.  "Originally, His Highness had intended to wear his ceremonial Imperial Guard uniform, but after hearing that several of the young lords attending also intended to wear their uniforms, he decided to change. He felt it was quite fortunate that the Imperial tailor had just delivered a new suit yesterday." The footman coughed circumspectly into his hand. "I did hear that the suit was crimson."

    Nicholas took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and turning his face to the ceiling of his office, counting to twenty. He had given up on only counting to ten after the first month in his post. He needed to grab onto the frayed threads of his patience and come up with a solution. Even if only to save the sanity of the household staff. 

   While the request was ridiculous, like the seven others that the royal pain in the backside had made in the past three days, it was still a royal request and therefore needed to be accommodated. Normally, this would have been handled by the butler or head housekeeper. Unfortunately, Nicholas was convinced there was nothing normal about His Highness Erik Augustus Emmanuel Von Kalimar, Crown Prince of the Kamilar Empire. Solarith save them.

    After the fifth 'request' from the Crown Prince, they had given up and instructed the staff to appeal directly to him instead, hoping that he would have some way to curb the more outlandish demands. That's why the man was standing in his office in the first place. Only he, as Prime Minister and the heir to the Empire's most powerful duchy, could have the audacity to 'interpret' His Highness's orders in any way other than literally. 

   After a few moments, he snorted, opened his eyes, and sat up straight again, pulling the documents on the left side of his desk towards him. He had dressed for the ball earlier in the day, hoping to spend these last few hours here in his office completing a few tasks before the chaos of the evening began. The mundanity of paperwork helped him to clear his mind before he had to navigate the shark-infested waters of the Empire's nobility. He had caught the whispers of a disturbance in the underbelly of the capital. He and his network of informants had spent the past few weeks gathering what information they could. While the whispers were there, none of them were specific. Something was shaking up the current hierarchy in the shadows, but he hadn't been able to find anything to point to who, or what organization, it was. It was like the players were shadows, slipping away before they could be identified. They would have to see if it would prove to be a positive or negative change. Nicholas's father had spent his time as Prime Minister chasing a mastermind who pulled the strings of the underworld in Shallarin. He and His Majesty, the Emperor, laid the framework for the network of spies and informants that Nicholas had nurtured and expanded, intending to find the source of a rot that had begun to spread through the nobility in the Empire and eradicate it. Unfortunately, they had never found the elusive spider at the center of its web, and his father had retired to the Duchy of Ravenwood, leaving the task to his son when he came of age. Though the Duke had kept his fingers in many of the right pies and had reported back to his son that the shadowy figure they had named the Grandmaster had spread his feelers wider afield. The ball was an excellent opportunity to have all the players in one spot. 

   A chance to observe and, if possible, stir the pot and perhaps have a chance to rid the Empire of a few vermin.

   A pair of eyes flashed through his mind, as they had at odd moments for the past week. Was the theft of that formula from Robert Tallow part of the chess moves being made behind the scenes? The man had said that it was a simple formula for a new rejuvenation elixir developed by his nephew, but that had obviously been a misdirection. The man was horrible at lying, and he had long been marked as a tool of the Grandmaster back in Nicholas's father's day. At this point, they used the man as a weathervane to see which way the winds of power were blowing. 

     But now he had to deal with the floral whimsies of a self-absorbed fool.  If he could solve this quickly, perhaps he could still get some work done before he had to focus on the ball. Flipping through the stack, he found the sheet he was looking for and pulled it out, pushing the rest back into place. 

   "His Highness wishes the floral arrangements to complement his look for this evening. We can't bother His Highness with the trivial details. He is too busy. We will live up to his expectations and deliver on his intent." He did all but wink at the man, whose posture had eased now that it was apparent that someone with higher authority had come up with a solution. Glancing down at the document before him, Nicholas took a moment to mentally pay his condolences to the Imperial treasury. "To best highlight His Highness's taste, instead of replacing the lilies, please instruct the florists to adjust the pieces to have them be accent flowers instead. This should leave the arrangements still looking full. Have them find some large, full, crimson roses as well as a few red rose buds. Have them place a few full blooms into each piece and only a few smaller red flowers. Make the white the background for the red flowers. This should suit His Highness's purpose. Tell them to make the red roses singular stars amongst a sea of white and gold." He nodded decisively to indicate his dismissal. The footman bowed and left to execute his instructions. 

   To save everyone's sanity, Nicholas dispatched one of his aides to pass the message to the household staff to avoid His Highness and his valet for the next few hours. Best to cut off the problems at the source. 

   He took a moment to close his eyes and let out a cleansing breath, then turned back to his documents and picked up his pen. He spared it a glance, admiring the design and remembering the positive meeting with the Patriot Guild leader. The man had been intelligent, efficient, and perceptive. He had capitalized on the unannounced visit in unexpected ways. It wasn't often that Nicholas found himself fully engaged in a meeting with a stranger. The gift of the pens was an unlooked for attempt to curry favor, but done so expertly that Nicholas found no offense in it. He even gave the man credit for knowing his preferences so well, despite having no reason to believe that he would have a private meeting with him anytime soon. Being able to grasp any opportunity that crossed your path with both hands and make the most of it was the sign of an exemplary intellect and savvy information gathering. He was sorely tempted to recruit the man into his staff. 

   However, he didn't think he would be able to offer the man terms that he would find tempting at the moment. Currently, the Patriot Guild was the fastest growing trading guild in the Empire with exclusive patents on some of the most popular new inventions, and Samuel Ventris sat at its head, overseeing it all and reaping the glory. Why would a smart businessman like him trade that to work in a government office? Though maybe he could promote a friendship with the man and be able to access his skills on more of a 'consulting' basis.  It had been pleasant to spend time talking about matters that were purely innovative and advanced society, rather than hunting elusive villains. And cleaning up royal messes. 

   The clock on the mantel chimed the hour of seven, ending his peace for the evening. He stood, tucking the chair under his desk and picking up the dark blue jacket draped across its back. Sliding into it, he straightened his collar and smoothed a hand over his hair, ensuring the silver clasp he had tied it back with was still in place. While he wasn't bothered about his appearance, his father and mother would be in attendance tonight. If the Duchess were to see him less than appropriately turned out, then there would be hell to pay, whether he was working or not. 

   Lately, the woman had been renewing her efforts to marry him off. While he may have been the only son and heir, he was only twenty-five years old, still plenty of time to settle down. His mother, however, seemed to be of a differing opinion.

   She had stated unequivocally that an older man marrying a young woman was a disgusting custom.  The woman had insisted that he begin looking around for a wife immediately and threatened that if he didn't find one himself, she would 'take measures'. Nicholas had brushed it off as one of her new obsessions at first. His mother was known to pick up new hobbies and fads only to discard them again as soon as her attention waned. In this case, he had been wrong.  

   Now he would have to spend the night not only observing the people that he had his eye on, he would also have to dodge his mother's attempts at matchmaking. He had attempted to enlist his father's help in fending her off, but the man had only smiled and said that personally, he had found marriage to be something to look forward to. 

   Of course he felt that way. The love story of the Duke and Duchess of Ravenwood was practically a legend in the Empire! Nicholas had grown up watching their lovey-dovey married life. Watching his father walk in the door after a frustrating day at the palace, and seeing his eyes light up as he handed his coat to the butler and approached his wife, who was waiting to welcome him. It was as if he shed the day at the door, leaving all the stress and worry behind. Who wouldn't want that for themselves? 

    Nicholas had idolized his parents when he was young. To him, his father had been strong and wise, guiding the empire at His Majesty's side. His mother had been beautiful, full of kindness and love. Together they were unstoppable. However, it had become apparent as he grew older and interacted with society more, that his parents' relationship was the exception and not the rule for noble marriages. 

   At first, he had been shocked at the affairs and scandals that abounded under the glittering surface. Both his parents were the possessive type, so the thought of a third party even approaching either of them was ludicrous. If his mother had heard of his father becoming entangled with another woman would have ended in bloodshed. And if the roles were reversed and it were his father who heard of his mother with another man, it wouldn't end with just blood. Nicholas knew himself well and knew that he took after his father in many ways. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stomach a standard noble marriage. More often than not, they were merely transactional, each side gaining money, land, or influence through strategic alliances. The two people involved spend their lives like parallel lines on a sheet of paper, living on the same path together but never intersecting. 

   As he strode down the corridor, he scoffed softly to himself. While love matches like his parents' did exist, they were frowned upon as most did not end well. High society in the empire was like a pool of sharks, all circling on the hunt for prey. Hiding your true intentions behind polite masks was essential for survival. To fall in love with the mask only to have to live with the person behind it could be devastating. To find a partner like his mother was to his father would require taking the time to see behind the mask. He would need to be sure that he really knew who he was promising to spend his life with before getting anywhere near that stage. 

   And that took time. Time that his father, as the previous Prime Minister, should be perfectly aware that he had in short supply. When his father had shrugged of his request for help in curbing his mother's matchmaking he had felt a little betrayed. They both knew how envolved the job could be, without factoring in the Grandmaster and his schemes. 

    He turned the last corner towards the grand ballroom and came face to face with the largest drain on his time. 

   And patience. He thought as he watched Erik adjust the cuffs on his evening coat. His crimson evening coat. 

   "Ready for the night, old man!" The smile on the prince's handsome face was wide and carefree, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Maybe we'll find some young thing that will take your mind off your piles of paperwork tonight." He ran a hand through his blond hair, cut in a short shaggy style that always looked a little disheveled, giving his classic looks a rakish air. "You need to lighten up and have some fun sometimes!" He clapped Nicholas on the back, causing the more serious man to stifle a sigh.

   They both turned as the gilded doors in front of them opened, letting the soft music and murmuring voices wash in.