Kyle was waiting for Ismachi in the hall when he stepped out of his room on his way to dinner.

"Ready?" the Knight asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Ismachi nodded, leading the way into the dining room. He looked quite regal, dressed like a true prince in a dark tailored dinner jacket. His hair fell loose from its usual braid, and a thin silver crown rested lightly on his head.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Kyle inquired as they walked down the hall together.

"Why not?" Ismachi shrugged, a little smile twitching on the corner of his mouth.

Kyle laughed, patting the prince on the back. "I knew it," was all he said. Ismachi didn't respond.

In the dining room, Kyle bowed to the queen and king before he took his seat at the table, and Ismachi gave a somewhat formal nod in their direction, taking his mother's hand and placing a quick kiss on it before finding a seat next to her.

Georg and another Queen's Knight, Galleon, entered the dining room together, bowing to Their Majesties before being seated on Ferid's side of the table, leaving one chair between them and the Commander, in which the princess would be sitting. Shortly thereafter Lyon came downstairs, wearing a simple black dress, her hair drawn back into a short ponytail at her neck. Ismachi smiled at her and suddenly she felt self-conscious as she took her seat on the other side of the prince. She stared down at the table and waited patiently with her hands folded in her lap.

Just a moment later Miakis came bounding into the room, the heels of her dressy sandals clicking on the floor. The skirt of her shin-length white dinner dress swirled around her legs as she scampered toward the table. She plopped down next to Lyon, resting her elbow on the table. She immediately began drumming her fingers, eyeing the wine bottle in the center of the table.

"What are you doing?" Lyon hissed at her. "Cut it out!"

Miakis turned to her, oblivious. "Huh?"

Lyon was afraid of making a scene, but she was spared the agony when another pair of Knights, this time Alenia and Zahhak, made their way, formally in step, into the dining room. The two newcomers fell to their knees before the Queen and Commander, rising only when Ferid begged them to cease the unnecessary display. They were known for always being terribly particular about formalities, but their routine had been getting even more meticulous as the Sacred Games drew nearer. However, as that wasn't a suitable topic for dinner discussion, Ferid just waved them to their chairs with a sigh, Alenia next to Georg, and Zahhak beside Miakis.

The sound of a voice impatiently clearing caused all eyes to turn suddenly toward the staircase, where Lymsleia stood awaiting their appraisals. The girl held her small chin high, the silver circlet on her head glinting in the soft candlelight that illuminated the stairs. Wearing a sleeveless black evening dress, the bejeweled princess gracefully descended the steps toward the dining table, her dainty ears dangling with sapphires.

Ismachi rose at once from his seat--captivated, frozen in place by the princess's beauty. She held his gaze as she made her way to the table, and they bowed gently to one another before she took her seat across the table from him. She flashed Miakis a quick smirk before giving her brother a dazzling smile. Her bodyguard sighed a little to herself; as punishment for wanting to play a cruel trick on Lyon, the princess had made her alone dress in white.

"Goodness! Everyone looks so lovely this evening," Arshtat commented.

Ferid laughed in agreement. "What's the occasion?"

Ismachi just smiled at Lym, who really had no answer.

Miakis giggled. "You're right, Your Majesty! We should break out the fine silver!" She was joking, of course; the royal family always used fine china and silver for their meals.

"Never mind that," Galleon bellowed. "Where's the meat?!"

Everyone laughed.

"Send in the food!" Ferid called to the servants waiting next to the kitchen doors.

"Aren't you all forgetting someone?" a new voice rose over the dinner party. Heads turned to where a tall woman waited at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, Sialeeds!" Arshtat smiled.

The queen's younger sister placed her hands on her hips. "I'm surprised someone remembered my name," she said. She turned her gaze to her young niece. "Especially with an entrance like that." Crossing her arms, she sauntered to the foot of the table, the long slit in her gown exposing most of her thigh. "We certainly wouldn't mistake who the princess is around here."

Lymsleia smiled uncertainly at her aunt, and Arshtat laughed a little nervously. "I wondered if you'd sleep right through dinner," the queen said. "You do enjoy taking naps in the late afternoon..."

"When have you ever known me to skip a meal?" Sialeeds scoffed. She fell into her chair and brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't care."

"Why don't I uncork the wine?" Georg interrupted, to everyone's relief.

"Wait a moment there, Georg," Ferid said, raising his hand. "Let me send for something a little more appropriate, considering the occasion." Raising his eyebrows at the group, he added under his breath, "Whatever it is..." As the servants brought in covered trays, the Commander ordered something special for the dinner wine, and with dismay Miakis watched the previous bottle being taken away untouched.

Before long everyone had relaxed and was enjoying dinner as always. But there was some unspoken excitement lingering in the air that everyone could feel, but no one could quite identify...

At last, Galleon set his fork down on his plate and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. "Delicious, as usual!" he proclaimed, rubbing his stomach with satisfaction.

"Who's up for a game of cards?" Georg asked, looking around the table.

"Sounds like fun," Ferid smiled, standing. "Arshtat?"

The queen let out a laugh, taking her husband's hand and joining him. "You know I'm not very good at games, Ferid. But I'll be more than happy to watch."

"Great!" Georg rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Who else is coming?"

"Why not?" Galleon decided.

"Count me in!" Kyle grinned. "Ismachi?"

The prince shook his head. "No, thank you," he replied to Kyle, but his eyes were on his sister, relaying a secret message.

Kyle looked around the table, desperate to find another player to complete the group. "...Zahhak?"

"I don't play games," the knight said shortly.

"I'll join in," Alenia said, to everyone's surprise. She looked around at their startled faces with confusion. "What?"

Kyle laughed, leading the way into the parlor. The players trailed after him leisurely, Georg laughing at Alenia as she scowled and demanded to know what they had all be gawking at.

As the room cleared out, Miakis suddenly let out a hiccup, still sipping wine from her glass. She giggled. Zahhak made some sound of disgust, and turned and walked briskly out of the dining room, leaving the prince and princess alone with their bodyguards.

Lyon turned to Ismachi. "Prince, would you like to rest now? I can walk you back to your room."

Before Ismachi could respond, Miakis let out a laugh, quite unprovoked. They all turned to stare at her. Smiling, she tried to get out of her chair and stumbled, laughing even as she clung to the tablecloth. Lyon sighed, then hurried around the table to catch the girl before she fell or made a bigger fool of herself than she had already. She turned to the prince apologetically. "I'm sorry, Prince Ismachi! I think I should help her upstairs. Is it all right with you?"

"Of course," Ismachi agreed quickly. "Please help her, Lyon."

Lyon grabbed hold of one of Miakis's arms and threw it around her neck, half-carrying the girl out of the room. "Excuse me, then. I'm sorry, Princess. At least she won't give you any more trouble tonight!"

And then they were alone, save for the servants moving around the table, clearing away the dishes and leftovers.

Ismachi gave the princess a tender look, and Lymsleia flushed from across the table, but returned his smile. He stood and went to her, offering her his arm. She took it gracefully, standing and following his lead. He walked her out of the room, glancing around. "Looks like the coast is clear," he whispered with a dangerous smile. "Shall we?"

Lym blinked at him. "Shall we what?"

"Escape."

Her eyes went wide, and she gaped at him. "Seriously? Oh, can we, Ismachi?"

He grinned. "Want to?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Then let's go." He took her hand and pulled her hurriedly down the hall, rounding a corner and looking back again before stopping next to a window. He pried it open silently, then glanced once more down the corridor before hoisting himself onto the ledge.

"Ismachi!" Lymsleia gasped. "Through the window?"

The prince dropped down over the other side, his feet landing on the soft grass below. He turned back to the window, reaching inside for her. "Can you think of an easier way to get past the guards?"

"N-no, but..." She wasn't protesting, but climbing up onto the ledge, biting her lower lip.

"...Don't you trust me, Lym? Don't you feel safe with me at all?" Ismachi had his arms around her waist and was looking up into her eyes with something akin to pain.

Lymsleia felt her chest tighten. "More than with anyone else." She looked down at him, her hands moving to grasp his shoulders. "I mean, of course I trust you. Help me down!"