In high society, parties and galas always showcased the lavishness enjoyed by the upper class. Although these events have been criticized by the majority of the lower classes, they serve a purpose. Nobles go to great lengths to display their power and wealth in order to establish connections with other powerful people, further expanding their reach and influence through friendships, alliances, and even marriages.
Such a concept differed greatly from that of the lower classes. Even though the basics of any human-based relationship are still powered by mutual benefit, the approach taken by the nobles is more pragmatic and always serves their agendas. The lower classes would always see the upper classes as ruthless and power-hungry, while the upper classes would always see the lower classes as lazy and impractical.
House Moore was a typical noble house in that regard. While they rarely host parties in comparison to their De Clare friends, a party hosted by the Moores is akin to a science fair. Whereas the De Clares gather artists and musicians, the Moores gather scientists and artificers.
Still, there was this particular artist who was never interested in any invitation sent by House De Clare, but once he received an invitation from House Moore, he abandoned all that he was working on and crossed the sea between Albion's mainland and Great Elgard to attend that party.
That man is none other than the world-famous Morris De Brosa.
Morris De Brosa was the artist of his time. While young and in his late twenties, he had achieved great strides in every field. A painter, an engineer, an adventurer, and a seafarer, his achievements were many, and his name was known as the most talented in all of Albion.
The latest work of that man was purchased by one of his most fervent admirers, Count Julian Moore, whose daughter bought the "Ladies of the Woods" painting for a record price, which made Morris a very happy and rich man. Officially, that was the reason Morris De Brosa was heading to the party this evening.
Unofficially...
"Are you sure you can't tag along? I am not familiar with anyone here, Mr. Red." said the young man wearing a rich suit that felt a bit alien to the general fashion style of Elgard.
He was as dashing as the rumors carried him to be, with long, brown, wavy hair with clear brown eyes, and a light beard. A gilded pistol was tucked in his expensive silk sash, with a decorated curved saber hanging from his coat's tail.
"As much as I wish to enter this place one more time, I don't want to see how much it has changed. Mr. Green will meet you inside and be your guide."
The one who replied was a much younger man who seemed in his tender teenage years, but the way he carried himself was way older than he appeared. A mystery it was for any onlooker, but to Morris, he had become well acquainted with that younger man recently and had found his story to be quite fascinating.
"Either way, my objective here is nothing simple. Your request is quite problematic." Morris let out a sigh as he looked ahead to the mansion after he descended from the carriage.
The young man, back in the dark interior of the carriage, remained silent and only looked away before replying:
"You came to us for help, and it is a favor for another. Currently, you are one of the few who can get close to Count Moore and his family without raising suspicions from any party. If you succeed, you will have our full support to reestablish yourself and get yourself landed. If not, you will have to join the great expedition."
"With all due respect, that great expedition you pushed us into... it is doomed." Morris's face darkened as he turned fiercely at the young man.
"Doomed? Maybe... but someone will make it happen, and it starts with House Moore, my friend. Now get to work."
The door to the carriage was shut, and Morris was left alone as it sped towards the outer gate of the Moore Mansion.
People were flowing in through that place Morris was in, and he felt a bit lost, but just as he was going to take out his own invitation and hand it over to one of the footmen at the large entrance of the mansion, a man wearing a brown coat and hat approached him with a wary face.
"Welcome to Elgard, Sir Morris. An honor to meet you." He spoke and showed courtesy in a noble attitude.
"Mr. Green, I assume." Morris replied.
"Please, sir. You are expected in the VIP area, let's go this way."
Rather than taking the large stairway to the gate, Mr. Green led Morris towards the side of an unremarkable door like the ones used by the servants.
"A VIP area? I thought this whole party was VIP!" Morris exclaimed.
"Some more than others, sir. Lord Julian Moore is rather picky about the people he meets, so... you can understand."
"I was hoping to be in the public party, though." Morris slowed down his steps for a moment and looked back before letting out a sigh and continuously following Mr. Green.
"Worry not, sir. You will get there eventually, right after entertaining the host. That's what I heard from the butler." Mr. Green said before stopping and extending his hand to Morris.
Morris put his hand into his pocket and took out a letter with a broken seal. Immediately, Mr. Green handed it to the footman guarding the door, and the latter looked at the man for a few seconds before opening the door behind him.
"Please, head straight to the upper level."
The two men walked inside right away, and as they followed the instructions, they arrived at the second floor of the mansion and could see the largest hall from above, filled with all manner of guests.
Music was being played, and drinks were getting served, as it seemed people were still arriving. Morris De Brosa, however, halted his steps and started to focus his senses with his eyes closed.
"Something wrong, sir..."
Mr. Green looked back at him, but just as he was about to ask, Morris raised his index for Mr. Green to be quiet. After a while, he spoke with a smile.
"You hear that?" Morris asked.
"Hear what?"
"The music! I know this piece."
"Spring Petals? Second Move, if I am not mistaken."
"You recognize it, huh?" Morris was impressed by Mr. Green, "I listened to it once when I was a little kid by its original composer."
"Lord Theodore Nightingale." Mr. Green said with a smile.
"You know music well, Mr. Green. But what instrument is this? It feels like a really well-made piece played on a primitive instrument!"
"Careful there, Sir Morris. We Elgardishmen take pride in our bagpipes and rebecs; they are not to be taken lightly." Mr. Green replied jokingly.
"No, no. Not that. Listen! These instruments may be different, but how on earth did the Moores convince Lord Nightingale to play for a crowd this early in the party?" Morris asked.
"I don't believe that is Lord Theodore playing... he should already be in the VIP guest room."
"But... this part just now, no one can do it like that. There are two notes to this move, one exclusive to Lord Nightingale and the other to everyone else. Lord Nightingale has exceptionally long arms and unrealistically flexible hands, no one can do that... ha! Listen... it is that piece again..."
Morris remained motionless, listening keenly to the music with the face of a child discovering something completely new and losing himself in reality. He looked left and right for the piano player, but it seemed that the player was in a place where he couldn't have a direct line of sight.
"I know music, but not that much, it seems. Well, we can't waste more time here, sir." Mr. Green said and asked Morris to get going.
"Hmm... you're a nobleman, aren't you, Mr. Green?" Morris asked as he followed.
"I was." Mr. Green replied without turning to Morris.
"A fallen noble?"
"..."
"I am sort of a fallen noble myself, too."
"I walked away."
"Excuse my nosiness then... why?"
Morris's question seemed to hit a nerve for Mr. Green, but he remained firm.
"For the sake of a better world, sir."
"You don't strike me as a fanatic."
Mr. Green stopped and turned to Morris with a hint of anger visible in his blue eyes.
"What do you see when you look at those people down there?" He asked.
Morris averted his eyes to think, then answered:
"Nobles, the powerful men and women of Elgard."
"Opportunists! Corrupt and rotten people." Mr. Green said that no one could hear him, but the moment he almost erupted, he looked down and gazed at a certain place.
"All of them?" Morris asked and stood next to him.
"No... not all." Mr. Green said in a low tone with a shaken voice, "Some are beautiful, pure, and good... so good in fact it breaks your heart; they are not cut for this world, it will pressure them, shatter them, until..."
Mr. Green's eyes moistened, but he quickly hardened his face and sucked on a breath of cold air. Morris, however, could trace where his eyes were looking, and in the heart of the crowd, he saw two beautiful maidens, both graceful and elegant like swans in a paddling of ducks, one gold like dawn and the other violet like dusk.
"Until?" Morris asked.
He looked at Mr. Green, and the latter remained silent for a while before hastily lowering his hat to cover his face and backing away.
"I can't be seen here." He said and turned to walk away.
Morris followed him slowly and looked at the man who seemed both young and aged at the same time. Just what kind of tragedy shaped a man to have all those conflicted feelings like that?
"You haven't answered. Until what, Mr. Green?" Morris, however, wasn't the kind to leave a mystery be.
Mr. Green seemed to be finally annoyed with the Vigonzan foreigner and spoke after a long sigh.
"Until it leaves them dead."
After a bit of silence, Morris stepped forward beside Mr. Green and patted his shoulder.
"Ad Mundum Liberum!" (To A Free World!) Morris said.
"Ad Mundum Iustum!" (To A Just World!) Mr. Green replied.
Down at the party, Vivian looked up, and a frown almost appeared on her face. Without realizing it, she stepped away from the place she was in.
"Professor..." She muttered, but right before she took another step, a hand reached out to her.
"Vivian! Don't you dare abandon your post." Isabella whispered as she subtly dragged her back.
"No, I just saw someone..."
"No time for this. You are basically the hostess of this party now that your stepmother can't be here."
"What are you talking about? I'm looking right at her." Vivian replied with a cheeky smile.
"Aw, you flirt!" Isabella was impressed with Vivian's cheekiness, "Still, won't let you weasel out of this."
"Aye aye, sir!"
"By the way, dear Count Julian is still not coming down?"
"He won't come down until he meets with Morris De Brosa. Men can be quite the fangirls."
"Tell me about it! Here comes the Everards, a big family from the western counties."
"More people I won't remember two minutes from now."
Vivian sighed from the pain she was going through, as she was not even half the social powerhouse Isabella could be. Still, aside from all the inventions she was going to display today, one more thing kept her mind occupied.
That man she saw just now on the upper balcony, the last time she saw him, he was a complete mess. She feels guilty that she didn't look for him earlier, but seeing him at the party just now made her feel conflicted.
That was none other than Professor Amos Morgan, the class supervisor from the Academy and the one who found that two of his students were murdered and assaulted on graduation day. A man with his sentiment is either broken beyond repair or out for blood.