It was a while before Braelyn was instructed to head to the market on another Auroday, during which time she always made sure she looked her absolute best on this specific day of the week. She dressed up on other weekdays as well so to avoid suspicions, but on Aurodays she made sure to pay special attention to her hair. Few Arderians had hair as brightly orange as hers and she felt it was her best asset to attracting the count — or any other noble for that matter. On both of the Aurodays she was sent to the market during the past two months, she failed to catch the count's attention. It seemed that her hair wasn't bright enough to make her stand out in a brightly-dressed crowd. So on the Auroday she was sent to the market in the month of Sueño, she tried something different. She dressed in gold jewels, and black and dark green silk to stand out against the multicolored Rivans, and while she packed some fruit into the carriage, she heard the announcement over the commotion of the streets.

"Make way for the Count of Rivas!"

Braelyn didn't hesitate to casually maneuver her way through the townsfolk, the carriages, and the oxen to the front of the crowd. She knelt with everyone else and let her perfume-spritzed orange curls droop with the gold pearls she had pinned in them. Hopefully this would make her more noticeable to the count. And she was right. When the young nobleman passed her by on his litter, he instructed his servants to stop and he set his gaze on Braelyn.

"Young miss!" the count called. "You have lovely, fiery hair. I am Count Fedar, tell me your name."

"Braelyn, my Lord," she replied.

"Lovely name, too," said the count. "Who employs you?"

"My son and I serve under Earl Rajashekar of Rivas, my Lord."

"How exquisite," said the count. "I am throwing a glorious banquet next week, I would love for you to serve among my beautiful staff at Flameborne Court. Come with me, I'll send the earl notice."

"Very well, my Lord," Braelyn replied. "I only have one humble request: would you be so gracious as to send for my son as well? I worry about him awfully when I'm away. The earl's sons are... unkind to him."

"I shall include your request in my correspondence."

"You are very generous, my Lord. I shall endeavor to serve my best at your banquet."

Braelyn did well hiding her excitement as she calmly obeyed the count and joined his caravan. She walked beside the black and violet litter while Count Fedar continued his shopping, which apparently was being conducted for the banquet he had mentioned. They approached a merchant selling folds of colorful fabric which caught the count's eye.

"What lovely material," he said. "These would look quite dignified hanging from gold rings above the banquet tables! I'll take a roll of silk in every color you have!"

"If I may, my Lord," said Braelyn as she approached the merchant. "The taffeta may provide a more elegant appearance above your tables. See how the light from the suns shines through the fabric casting color upon everything beneath it."

The count was impressed. "You are absolutely right! I'll take a roll of taffeta in every color."

"Very well, my Lord," said the merchant.

Braelyn returned to her spot beside the litter without another word until the count addressed her.

"Excellent advice, Braelyn. I would love to hear more of your ideas for the remainder of today's errands."

"As you wish, my Lord."

After Count Fedar finished the shopping he had originally left home to conduct, during which Braelyn offered any services she could, she returned with the count to Flameborne Court and was shown her new, more grandiose room. However, she was unmoved by the lavish surroundings of onyx chandeliers, gunmetal-trimmed furniture, and violet tapestries of the mansion as her mind was claimed hostage in her struggle to wait patiently for Ravan to be delivered to her.

There was also the worry that this attempt to escape the grasp of Rajashekar would fail. Count Fedar was beneath the earl in status, after all, and it was possible that he would fail to convince the earl to use her for the banquet. And what would happen after the banquet should he succeed? Would she be able to convince the count to purchase her? If so, it was possible that he lacked the sufficient funds to satisfy the earl. Additionally, how much would the count really think Braelyn was worth? Perhaps he did have the funds, but he simply wouldn't wish to use it on Braelyn and Ravan. She spent most of the rest of the day pacing around in the floral aroma of her new room, waiting for any word, good or bad. At long last, a knock came on Braelyn's door.

"Come in," Braelyn called.

The door opened ajar and a servant peered in. "His Lordship wishes your presence in the drawing room, miss."

"Thank you," Braelyn replied.

Braelyn followed the servant to the darkly decorated drawing room and once she arrived, she found Count Fedar pouring himself a drink at his pewter minibar.

"Braelyn for you, my Lord," said the servant.

When the count turned to face her, Braelyn curtsied as gracefully as she could manage. "My Lord."

"The lovely Braelyn!" said the count with a beaming smile claiming his face. "I must say, you've certainly seized the earl's favor."

Braelyn couldn't hide her disappointment. "He refuses to let you borrow me then."

"No, no, it simply took much convincing," the count replied. He calmly approached his black and silver settee and made himself comfortable. "Your son should arrive soon. I'm eager to learn what has the earl so captivated."

Relief flowed through Braelyn so that she almost exploded into song and dance. "My Lord, I am so grateful that you managed to sway the earl. I shall endeavor to serve you better than I've ever served him."

"Mother?"

Braelyn spun around to where she heard the familiar voice of her son, and there in the doorway to the drawing room stood the nervous Ravan with a fresh bruise on his eye. She rushed to embrace him.

"Mother, what's happening?"

"We're going to be spending a little time here with the Count of Rivas, Sweetheart," Braelyn replied with a sweet smile. She stroked her finger around the swelling discolored flesh on Ravan's face. "Meanwhile, you won't have to worry about the earl's sons harassing you anymore."

Ravan pulled away from his mother's touch. "I'm fine, Mother."

Braelyn reluctantly dropped the matter. "Ravan, this is Count Fedar of Rivas."

"Pleasure to meet you, Son," said Fedar. He stood from his settee and studied Ravan intently.

"Likewise, my Lord," Ravan replied with a bow.

"I sense a lot of anger in you, Boy," said Fedar. "Is this fire in your gut burning for the earl's sons due to your recent wound?"

Ravan couldn't look anyone in the eye. "Yes, my Lord."

"Why do you hold such hostility against them?"

"Because while they can hit me, I can't hit them back," Ravan replied quietly.

"So they've never taken a hit themselves, you say?"

"No, sir."

"How most unfortunate," said the count with a swig from his goblet. "One can't help but pity the poor juveniles."

"Pity them, sir?" Ravan almost snapped at the count.

"Well of course," said Fedar. "You're stronger than they are. Don't tell me you haven't realized this."

"I don't understand..."

"You're capable of taking abuse," the count explained. "They can't say the same. If the time ever comes, you'll be able to take a stand in a real fight, but the moment they're struck, the fight's over. You can take a blow like a gladiator while they can take a blow like a fishwife."

Ravan couldn't a help small chuckle, but the lifted feeling was only fleeting. "It doesn't seem to mean much if they don't know it."

"Oh trust me, Son, they know it. That's what makes them hate you all the more." The count gradually approached Ravan. "But don't you fret, you'll have your vengeance, just make sure it comes naturally. If you try to force revenge, you'll go down along with your enemy. Do you understand?"

Ravan softly nodded his head. "Yes, sir."

                                                                ~~~

For the next five days, Braelyn made sure to help as much as she could in preparation for the count's grand banquet. Her breaks were short and scarce, and she made every effort to ensure that the count would be remembered for this gala. When the day finally came, the estate was decked from floor to ceiling with flowers, banners, gold figurines, bejeweled garlands, shimmering butterflies, and ornate torches with massive, colorful flames. Braelyn couldn't help but to roll her eyes at fire elementals and their need to have large fires displayed absolutely everywhere.

Braelyn prepared for the ball in the bathhouse with the other women the count had picked up at the market. They fragranced themselves with perfumes of fresh, floral, or elegant scents, and donned themselves with gems, gold headpieces, and sheer, multicolored attire, all to be sure they were the most eye-catching attractions of the night. Their jobs for the entire event were to serve the drinks and entertain the men. While the other ladies performed the minimal requirements between paid performances of music, dances, skits, and comedy, Braelyn made herself irresistible. She was lively, she drank with the guests, sat in their laps, flirted, teased, and danced. She avoided the earl as much as possible and paid more attention to the count. The banquet lasted two weeks and every night, Braelyn practically glowed. She was the life of the party. As planned, the count's banquet was greater than a success, and it was all thanks to Braelyn.

At one point during the seventh night, Count Fedar approached the brightly-dressed Earl Rajashekar, who stood with his goblet of wine appearing indifferent about the festivities.

"That's a lovely servant you have there," said the count. "How did you happen upon such a prize?"

"Oh she simply stumbled into a business luncheon I was having in Alaric," Rajashekar replied. "I provided her an expensive service and she moved here with me to work it off."

"What a fortunate happenstance. How much did this service set you back?"

Earl Rajashekar gazed at the count as if reading his mind. "She's not for sale."

The count grinned. "Not even if I tripled whatever you spent on her?"

"Not even if you quadrupled it."

"Well perhaps I'll try again when you've had a spot more wine."

The earl breathed deeply and looked away. "Oh glory be, another comedic matinee to look forward to."

Before Count Fedar could retort, he and the earl were distracted by a sudden row among the guests.

"That was you! Where do you find the gall to undermine me with such impertinence?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play coy with me! I was on the verge of closing that deal!"

"Your rage is misdirected, sir! It was not I who wrote my name on the contract."

"My Lords, please," Braelyn bid.

During this time up in her room, Ravan had been practicing his literature when he also heard the commotion and approached the window to watch the ordeal unfold from afar.

"All of Rivas was aware that I was working that deal!" the first nobleman continued. "You stepped in and deliberately offered a higher price to spite me!"

"You had ample opportunity to counter my offer! The fault does not lie with me if you are unable to produce an adequate price, but rather in you and your kinsman!"

Here, the first nobleman struck the second, who stumbled into a suit of armor. Almost immediately, the battle axe tumbled down toward the helpless nobleman and Braelyn instinctively jumped into action. She threw herself at the rocking suit of armor and caught the axe before it buried itself into the nobleman's head, all at once saving him and the gala. Everyone present gaped at the scene, including Ravan who peered down from the balcony. Braelyn could only stand where she was, panting and clutching the axe in her hands.

"Savage sprites, Braelyn! That was spectacular!" Count Fedar exclaimed. He addressed his closest servants. "Let's remove that piece from the floor then."

While the servants obeyed, the victimized nobleman stood to his feet and took a moment to regain his composure. Then he face Braelyn and said, "I owe you much more than my gratitude, miss. Be sure to call on me next time you find yourself in distress."

"Many thanks, my Lord."

He turned to face his attacker. "You on the other hand —"

"That's quite enough, Lord Pierce!" the count interrupted. "We are here to enjoy ourselves. Save your personal disputes for another venue. My honored guests! Fill your cups!"

Everyone cheered and the revelry was restored. The two brawling nobles made sure to keep their distances from each other for the remainder of the festivities, but Fedar still felt the need to have a couple of his sentries keep an eye on them. Fortunately, that was the last day of the banquet and thus the celebration suffered no further formidable interruptions.

                                                                ~~~

The next morning, all the noble guests quit Flameborne Court to return to their own estates and sleep off their hangovers. That afternoon, Braelyn joined the other servants in the task of cleaning up the mess that was left behind and taking down the decorations. These chores were expected to take a few days to complete. When Braelyn was about to turn in for the night, Count Fedar summoned her to his study.

"Yes, my Lord?" asked Braelyn with a graceful curtsy.

"Ah, Braelyn!" the count exclaimed as he set down his paperwork. He stood up from his ebony desk and strolled around it to approach her. "I am very impressed with your services during my banquet."

"You flatter me, my Lord."

"I would like to invite you and your son to continue to serve under me permanently. If you agree, I can purchase you from the earl."

Braelyn had to fight to not jump for joy. "We would be honored, my Lord."

"I'm relieved to hear it." The count returned to his desk. "I shall contact the earl tonight and keep you posted on the outcome. You're dismissed."

The following evening, as Braelyn gave Ravan his nightly literature lessons with the Fairy Circle book, they were both called upon to speak with the master of the manor. Something felt out of place about this summons. Braelyn couldn't shake the dreadful pressure in her chest and in recognition of this ominous feeling, she stuffed the book into Ravan's sack, then quietly led him out of the room. As they approached the drawing room, she recognized the angry voices of Earl Rajashekar and Count Fedar.

"What makes you think you can simply pick up other people's servants off the streets, use them in your lavish galas, and claim them as your own?"

"I believe my offer is more than fair, sir," replied the count. "But as I can see you are not pleased, I am forced to yield."

"It is not your offer which offends me, it is your audacity. This entire charade is bold beyond the imagination, and I am profoundly appalled!"

"It was not my intension to insult you, rather to do simple business with you. And I must be frank, I have never had a more difficult business colleague."

"It's clear to me you don't do much business."

"In fact, I've purchased most of my servants this way; it is a very successful way of conducting business."

"Braelyn!" the earl barked. "At last we can leave this commoner's abode. I will have someone pack your belongings for you. Silas, grab the boy's things and take him with you." He addressed the count. "I will be taking my servants, and I insist you and I never see or hear from each other again."

"Yes, it's been a pleasure, sir. Have a safe trip home."

"Why is Ravan riding separate?" Braelyn dared to inquire.

"He is not returning with us to Firebrush," Rajashekar said simply.

Braelyn felt her heart explode. "I beg your pardon? Where is he going?"

"I'll explain later, get in the coach."

"What are you doing with my son?" Braelyn demanded with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Braelyn," Rajashekar growled.

"What are you doing with my son!"

"Have you forgotten that both you and your son are under my authority!"

"He is my son regardless!"

"And mine! Ravan is to work for the Baron of Rivas at his slaughterhouse from now on. He is to leave immediately."

Ravan's breath caught in his throat upon hearing these words, though he couldn't be certain that he had heard them correctly. He looked to his mother for confirmation, but she was too distressed to acknowledge him.

"What?" Braelyn exclaimed. "You sold my son? Why?"

"Because he's growing to look too much like me," said the earl. "And I can't have anyone know that he is my son."

Of course, this confirmed Ravan's fears well enough and he had no idea how to receive this terrible truth.

"No one knew until now that he's your son!" Braelyn said. "But no one else has to, there's no need for this!"

Here, Silas returned with Ravan's belongings and led him out of the drawing room. Ravan could think of nothing else to do besides obediently follow the dwarf butler out to the corridor in a confused fog.

"It's already been done and there's no undoing it," said the earl.

"No!" Braelyn wailed while a couple sentries held her back from chasing after Ravan. "You can't take my son from me! You've already taken everything, you can't take my only child too! Please!"

"Take her to the coach," Rajashekar ordered his sentries.

"One moment, sir," said the count. "Explain to me how is this level of cruelty warranted. You really intend to separate a mother from her child?"

"Explain to me how this is any of your concern?"

"This is just uncivil; that alone makes it my concern!"

"These are not your servants, sir! I will caution you against inserting yourself into matters not your own!"

"You forget, sir, that you are on my property, and I refuse to allow such despotism to take place on my domain!"

"Then we shall leave and I'll conduct my affairs elsewhere!"

The sentries began to drag Braelyn away and Rajashekar turned to leave.

"My Lord, please!" Braelyn implored.

"Wait!" cried the count.

With a roll of his eyes, the earl faced the count, mostly curious to know what he had to say this time.

"Allow me to make one final offer for Braelyn and Ravan."

"There is no monetary —"

"I challenge you to a duel."

The entire estate stood still as if these words stopped all time and space. Braelyn wasn't even sure if she had heard the count correctly. Of course, Earl Rajashekar appeared unmoved and was the one to break the chilly silence.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Winner takes all."

"By 'all' you mean..."

"Well, should I lose I have no heir. You gain my estate and everything within it. You keep Braelyn and her son, and as you wished earlier, you never have to see or hear from me again. However, should I win, I gain your estate and everything within it. Do you accept my challenge?"

"I pity you, sir," said the earl. "Your unbounded empathy will be your undoing. Very well, I accept your challenge."

"Excellent, I shall be in contact to establish a date that best suits —"

"Why waste time? We'll do it now." The earl addressed one of his footmen. "Send for Silas and Ravan, and bring my sword. Silas will take the place of my second."

The footman nodded and left to do the earl's bidding. The count swallowed hard and watched.

"Very well. I suppose now is as good a time as ever." He addressed his own dwarf butler. "Yamir, fetch my sword and bring it to the rear courtyard. You will be my second and discuss the criterion of the duel with Silas."

"Yes, my Lord."

~~~

Everyone gathered in the rear courtyard of the count's estate, which no longer beheld the glorious merriment it had less than a week ago. There, the two butlers sat together to first attempt to come to some sort of agreement for their lords. When this discussion reached its inevitable failure, they established and reviewed the terms of the duel and relayed them to the opponents. Then, the earl and the count stood in the center of the courtyard where they faced each other, each prepared to see this duel to its end. Braelyn held Ravan close to her.

"What if the count loses, Mother?" Ravan asked.

"All events end the way they're meant to, Sweetheart," Braelyn replied with a silent prayer to the gods.

Each butler handed the lords their swords who then stood with their blades crossed waiting for the signal.

"En garde!" Silas called.

Rajashekar made the first move, which threw the count off immediately and he struggled to catch up for a good portion of the fight. The duel was exceptionally kinetic and the opponents moved all about the courtyard, throwing each other into bushes and statues. Each clang that resounded when the blades struck each other carried a lurid quality which left an imprint of doom in everyone watching. As Earl Rajashekar was larger than Count Fedar, the count wrestled against the earl's brutal strength. Regardless, the count managed to inflict numerous wounds into his adversary, though the earl appeared entirely unaffected as he continued to thrust and parry seemingly unaware that he was bleeding from various places.

At long last, Fedar managed to gain the upper hand when he drove Rajashekar to trip backward into his fountain. Fedar aimed to send his sword through the earl, but Rajashekar swatted the blade from its path and rolled back onto his feet. Both nobles stood on equal ground once again, but at least now the count felt more confident in his odds, which was reflected in his improved performance.

The noblemen advanced across their setting hardly minding their bearings, even as they traipsed through the long, shallow koi pond. The splashing was aggressive in its own right and overpowered the savage clashing of the blades. It was fortunate that the count remembered the steps which led out of the pond, lest he trip as the earl had done. Of course, the duel was much easier to carry out on dry land, at which point it appeared to be anyone's triumph; even as the earl shoved the count into the gate which bordered the courtyard. Fedar dodged the earl's thrust so that his blade went through the fence, and then he struck at the earl himself, but Rajashekar dodged his strike as well and the duel continued.

It wasn't until they came to blows in the lounging area when the earl took the opportunity to dupe his foe. With a flick of his blade, Rajashekar disoriented the count so that the count faltered in his step and stumbled over the furniture. As he was tangled among the chairs, Fedar was rendered hopelessly exposed to the earl who didn't hesitate to take advantage and drove his sword through Fedar's chest. Earl Rajashekar swiped his sword out of Count Fedar's body and everyone watched as the count collapsed, slowly dying in his own rear courtyard in front of his staff.

"My unbounded empathy may have been my undoing," Count Fedar managed. "But if you fail to produce even an ounce, your blood will spill your blood."

Moments later, it was all over.

"Well," said the earl. "That's the end of that. Yamir, as soon as you're finished burying your former employer you are to make your way to Firebrush Manor so that we may cap all legal paperwork. Silas, take Ravan."

Ravan wasn't sure if he should fight as Silas led him away. He was speechless trying to process everything he had just witnessed.

"No, please stop!" came his mother's cries. "Please, don't take my son away! You can't do this to me!"

Braelyn's pleas slowly faded as Ravan followed Silas through Flameborne Court. The clarity of the situation couldn't settle fast enough for him and he sat in the coach staring blankly out the window trying to understand it. All his life, while nothing was perfect, it wasn't all that bad... at least so he thought. Apparently, it was all a lie. It would appear that Ravan had been sold and as far as he knew, only slaves were sold. If he was a slave, that must make his mother a slave; a slave to whom he now knew to be his real father. After some hours of reviewing everything that had happened, all the pieces came together just in time for the baron's slaughterhouse to come into view. The slaughterhouse where Ravan could expect to spend the rest of his life.