Eitan descended from the carriage with the assistance of Farrel, and once he was down, he received the walking stick, which was respectfully presented to him. It was as if his body had returned to the state like when he had first returned. He was dressed in a black and silver suit, while Farrel donned loose attendant's attire that concealed some of his burly physique. The duo currently stood in front of an opulent manor, and Eitan steadily made his way to the entrance. Two guards were poised in front of the door, and only allowed the noble couple in front of them to pass through after a silver envelope was shown.
Eitan took out the invitation envelope from a pocket and held it to the guard. The guard only looked it over for a moment before handing it back and stepping aside. Eitan strolled inside with a relaxed expression, but he internally breathed a sigh of relief. The invitation was not a genuine one, so if the guard had opened it to do a serious inspection, they would likely have been revealed. It was much easier to swipe an envelope rather than the invitation itself, after all. People would at most be confused rather than truly concerned about the loss.
The clacking of Eitan's walking stick echoed as he made his way into a grand ballroom. Brilliant crystal chandeliers shone light on extravagantly dressed lords and ladies. Servants scurried about with this or that drink or refilled a diminishing dish on the banquet table. It all made for quite the lavish and bustling scene.
Eitan made his way over to a chair in the corner that had an optimal view of the room. "I'll pretend to rest here while you search," He murmured to Farrel beside him.
Farrel bowed lightly. "I shall find a drink that will be gentle on your body." He spoke up clearly just as two women approached them. He stepped away just as they stood directly in front of Eitan.
"I believe this is your first time at one of these gatherings, isn't it, Young Sir?" The older of the two smiled at Eitan and gave a small curtsy of greeting. The younger one stood behind, gazing at Eitan with a rosy hue on her cheeks.
"You would be correct, madam." Eitan looked up at her, a faint smile on his lips. "My body is not well, so I do not leave the house much. As such, please forgive me for not rising to greet you."
"Be at ease," the woman clacked open her fan in a graceful gesture. "I am Alarie Evalt, the current viscountess of the Evalt Viscounty. This young lady here is my niece, Pheor Evalt."
"Ah, hello," Pheor stepped forward and curtsied. She appeared a bit flustered, but her actions remained composed, as expected of a noble lady.
Eitan gently dipped his head in greeting. "I am Eitan Reidar," he said, not planning on lying about his identity. This place was quite far from Reidar County, so it was unlikely his father would hear of his activities. However, just in case, he was still acting in a way that befitted his old reputation. It wouldn't do him any good for anyone outside of his people to be aware of his great changes. Not to mention, pretending to be ailing made it much less cumbersome to act in high society.
Alarie had stepped away to give them some space, so he casually conversed with Pheor as he discreetly scanned the other guests in the ballroom. He did not place much attention on the two because it was quite obvious as to why he had been approached. A good-looking young man sitting alone, on top of the fact that he was a fresh face, made the perfect situation for anyone to come up and introduce themself. He was not oblivious to the fact that Pheor seemed interested in him. It was not considered polite for young people to be too forward, which is why Alarie, likely acting as her chaperone, sparked an opportunity for her.
He spotted Farrel making his way towards him through the crowd, and so lowered his head and coughed lightly. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his lips as he raised his head. "Forgive me, ladies, but my chest is feeling rather tight. I must step out for a bit."
Pheor looked a bit disappointed but knew it'd be overstepping to ask to accompany him. So, she smiled shyly and nodded. "It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Eitan. It'd be lovely to converse at length at a later date."
Eitan used his walking stick to push himself to his feet, providing a languid smile. "If fate allows." He bowed his head slightly to her before going over to one of the balconies available for guests to get a breath of fresh air.
Once outside, every bit of softness dropped from his demeanor as he folded his hands atop his cane and waited. It did not take long for the doors to reopen, and Farrel emerged. He promptly locked the door and closed the curtain to prevent any peepers before kneeling at Eitan's feet. "A man who matches the description was seen exiting the ballroom a few minutes ago. I attempted to follow his route, but there were guards at the end of the hall. I didn't move any further to avoid being discovered." It would have been easy for him to take down the guards and proceed, but he would naturally not carry out such an overt action without Eitan's permission.
Eitan's lips curled up at this news. "So it's already begun. Retrieve what I asked you to handle before, then come to the private room."
"Yes, my liege," Farrel bowed his head before getting up and jumping down from the balcony. He landed smoothly and disappeared into the night.
Eitan watched him go, staying outside for a short while in case Pheor was keeping an eye out, before returning to the ballroom. He ambled through the ballroom and then down a side hall, which connected to various private rooms for the guests to rest or partake in more private activities. He entered the last room of the hall, of which he had previously decided upon with Farrel, and sat to wait calmly.
After some time, a knock on the door echoed, and Eitan naturally recognized the presence. "Enter," the door creaked open, and Farrel entered with a luggage chest in hand.
Farrel had moved while avoiding as many people as possible, and even if someone did catch sight of him, a servant carrying a chest was hardly worth batting an eye at. He placed the carrier on the table and opened it to reveal two suits. The smaller, a striking red with black accents, while the larger one was a less decorated white with silver threading. Removing the clothing revealed two masks sitting underneath, each complementing a respective garment. The second compartment was opened to uncover two black envelopes and an ornate ebony cane with a capped bottom for Eitan to use. It was, of course, not for walking support but a specially commissioned item. After getting changed into the red suit, Eitan took out the cane and twisted the top. A blade emerged from the bottom, and he swung it with a satisfied expression.
Farrel had also gotten changed, and his entire demeanor had changed. Far from the prior image of an elderly servant, he now exuded an imposing and dignified vibe. Eitan returned the cane to its previous appearance before grabbing the two envelopes, giving one to Farrel. These were genuine articles purchased with a not small sum of money. He actually could have used this to gain entry in the first place, but he chose not to do so. He wanted no connection between Eitan Reidar and the events of tonight. Besides, the only reason he had attended the earlier party was to scope out the place, as well as have a smoother entry to where they were about to go. It would not have put a great hitch in plans had the fake invitation been discovered, and he just would've been unable to enter the ballroom at that time.
As a final touch, Eitan placed the black mask on his face. He then smiled rather wickedly, so combined with his current attire, he resembled quite the villainous character. He then turned to Farrel with a serious expression. "From this moment on, address me not as 'my liege' but as 'my young lord', to avoid any strangeness."
It was actually common for a knight to refer to their liege lord as 'my lord' in most settings, as most were also knights of the family of the one they'd sworn allegiance to. Take Aengus, for example; he was a knight of the Reidars, so for him to refer to Eitan as lord was perfectly appropriate. On the other hand, Farrel served Eitan not as the lord of a family or territory but on a more personal level, which is why he did not do the same. Young lord was an even more general term, used often merely as a more polite term for any young noble, or as a subordinate, a more respectful way to address one's young master if belonging to a noble family.
Farrel crossed his arm over his chest and lowered his head. "As you wish," he would obey perfectly, but was truthfully a bit unsettled in his heart. Ironically, he would have preferred it if Eitan had commanded the address to be master or even something more demeaning. Lightening their relationship, even in such a small manner, burdened his heart.
"Then, destroy everything, and then let's go." Eitan gestured to their previous garments. It was a shame to waste such things, but he didn't want to leave any trace behind. Besides, if tonight's plan worked out, any amount of money wasted could only be considered a great investment in the end.
"Yes," Farrel's aura surged, and there was soon only dust left behind.
Once this was done, they exited the private room and made their way down to the hall where Farrel had halted his pursuit. But this time, they continued on with Eitan in the lead and, upon encountering the guards, handed over the black envelopes.
This time, the inspection was rather thorough, which is why Eitan hadn't tried to pull another trick. The door was opened to reveal another long, but much darker hallway. This time, Farrel walked just in front of Eitan as if he were worried there would be some danger. A strong, sweet smell pervaded Eitan's nostrils just before they reached the end.
Just moments later, the hallway widened into a place hardly smaller than the grandiose ballroom of before. The sounds of dice clacking and coins clattering could be heard from all around, as well as rather— ahem, content sounds from men and women alike. Not just gambling, but those indulging in drugs and carnal pleasures were a dime a dozen here.
Farrel noticeably stiffened, and Eitan laid a calm hand on his arm. Farrel looked over at him and relaxed his body, spreading his shoulders and sticking up his chin. His posture was now well-matched to the other nobles in the room, who acted even more arrogant due to the masks obscuring everyone's identities. Eitan had informed him of the environment they were entering beforehand, so he quickly adjusted, but bringing his liege to such a place still gave him an initial pang of discomfort as a knight. They simply walked around for a bit, Eitan feigning a look of dissatisfaction.
"Greetings, honored guests. Is there a specific game you're looking for tonight?" A masked attendant soon approached them after noticing they had yet to join a table.
Farrel turned his head and gave the man a contemptuous look. "My young lord has no desire to join such paltry pools. Is there anything more worthy around this place?"
"Looking for high-stakes games, I see." The man clasped his hands together, his eyes breezing over Farrel to survey Eitan. "Is there anything in particular this honored sir is interested in?"
Eitan spun his cane with a bored expression. "I came here because I heard there was excitement to be found, but I'm rather disappointed. So, anything better than this riffraff will do."
The mask only covered the attendant's eyes, so Eitan could observe the twitching of his eyebrows. But he showed no open signs of displeasure and bowed. "If it is excitement that you are looking for, then I do know just the thing. However, it is exclusive, so you-"
Pah!
A harsh slap interrupted the attendant. Farrel glared at him and cracked his knuckles as if readying for another blow. "Bah! Exclusive? Do you know who my young lord is for you to say such a thing?!"
The attendant jumped a step back and held up his hands. "My apologies, however-"
Farrel raised a hand as if to go for another slap, and the man cowered back, readying for another impact. "What a farce." Eitan gave a low harrumph, and Farrel immediately withdrew his arm. He reached into his pocket and threw a pouch at the attendant, who hurriedly caught it in his grasp. "Am I allowed to go now?"
The attendant peeked at Farrel fearfully before opening the pouch to reveal glittering gold coins. His eyes widened, and he quickly stuffed it into his vest. He bowed deeply to Eitan and smiled panderingly. "Please forgive me for not recognizing such an esteemed individual as yourself. Come right this way."
Eitan smirked and followed the man with Farrel in tow. His current persona was a pampered and arrogant young master looking for a rush, so he would stick to it well. A mercenary had to adapt to all people and situations, after all, so a bit of acting posed no challenge to him. Farrel's persona was actually not much different from his true personality, so he also followed along easily.
They were led down a small corridor and down a seemingly infinite number of steps. Eitan and Farrel were aura users, so naturally had no problems, but the attendant was sweating by the time they reached the bottom. "Esteemed sir, I hope this will provide the excitement you seek." The attendant smiled crookedly as he pulled open the door.