With how exciting the first part of the event was, the next performer was boring, probably even to himself. Except Deen Farcry, the youngest and, after Dale's death, the only son of the minister of agriculture, was too nervous to realize that. He read a self-written poem, but it was so childish and clumsy Lee didn't know where to crawl in to hide from embarrassment.
Surprisingly the rest of the audience patiently sat there and waited until the young man was done, and applauded him when he returned to his seat. While their patience was mostly fueled by large amounts of alcohol, Lee's guess was that it was all because of the respect everyone felt for David Farcry who, thanks to Lee, lost his eldest son. And, probably, realization that sooner or later Deen was bound to become minister of agriculture himself.
The awkward atmosphere was quickly dispersed by minister Newman announcing the annual exchange of pointers between Ian Foxson and Mark Hardwood. Turns out their spar was something like a long standing tradition. The current score was eight to eight, thus the next match would decide who had the bragging rights for at least the next year.
Only now Lee realized that the rivalry between the two had lasted for at least sixteen years and it was hard to imagine what could be the cause for their competitiveness. No matter how one looked, both sons of generals were handsome and well built, clearly had polished combat techniques and the only advantage Mark had was the attention from Helen and Cecil.
Lee was excited about the upcoming spar even more than the two competitors. He was eager to see how the two superhumans of this world fought, but unfortunately was about to get disappointed.
"This is so stupid!" Drevin complained out loud as if he read Lee's mind, "With every year this shit becomes increasingly boring!"
"How come?" Lee couldn't resist, and asked the drunkard next to him, "Aren't they becoming more and more skillful? The fight should be interesting to watch, right?"
"Wrong … burp …" Drevin shook his head, "They compete until the first blood and for the past several years it only comes down to one exchange."
Lee furrowed his brows, trying to figure out where the problem lied, but Drevin continued, "The two idiots will stand there till the sunrise, trying to feel each other out, and only when one of them is about to die from boredom, he'll attack. It's so stupid … I need to pee …"
Drevin burped again and got up, tipping over his half empty glass, attracting quite a few judgmental and disdainful glances, but ignored everyone and strolled off in the darkness. It was wonder he held out so long without relieving himself, and Lee only hoped he would go somewhere further instead of peeing next to the stage, or around the corner of the venue.
Both Ian and Mark stood on the small stage with grave expressions on their faces as if the fight was a duel to the death. Even though Drevin's words considerably lowered Lee's expectations, the two young men with drawn swords gave the impression of two ferocious beasts, ready to pounce at each other. Once again, only by quickly glancing over, it became clear that there was no way for Lee to take the revenge in a direct confrontation, because no matter how he trained, it was unlikely he could become a strong warrior like them.
But one could always learn something by watching two experts fight. At least that was what Lee thought until … nothing happened. After minister Newman gave them a signal to start, Ian and Mark bent their knees, lowering their centers of gravity, and that was it. They intently stared at each other without moving a finger, to not speak about making an actual attack.
Lee finally realized what Drevin meant and, as it turns out, most of the people felt similar way. Except the emperor, Victoria and generals, the rest of the guests after taking a short, polite pause when the duel began, went back to chatting and drinking. Even Helen and Cecil sat down at the table, but their frequent glances towards the stage clearly showed there were other things they would've much more preferred to be busy with.
The competitors, though, completely ignored everything around them and soon began to resemble two beautifully carved statues.
At that moment Drevin returned, snorted 'told you!', and in a quick succession emptied three glasses one after another. Apparently the guy had different anatomy compared to a regular human and alcohol served as a fuel to keep him going.
Since nothing interesting happened on the stage and there was no one he could actually talk to, Lee quickly became bored. His first impulse was to go over to Tess and ask to bring him home, but when he saw her and Alan, both with rosy cheeks, in a heated discussion with Prime Minister Bates, he realized that during the past years she never went to a party or had time for herself. While it was her own decision to spend every moment taking care of Lee's needs, both actual and imagined by her, Lee couldn't be so selfish and force her to go home to sleep only because of his boredom.
He had a thought of this event being an opportunity to study his targets, but there wasn't much to study. He was small and weak, and until he grew up or got a lucky chance, there was no way for him to kill any of his targets.
He could make their lives worse though. While leisurely looking around Lee's eyes stopped at the drunkard next to him. Surely someone as wasted as Drevin currently was would do something stupid and he could assist by delivering the final push. Sadly, the party didn't take place on a cliff and literally pushing anyone had no use.
Lee had a thought of maybe pushing the guy into the lake, but it was unlikely he would drown and the loud splash would attract attention of the other guests and servants anyway.
But there was a thing Lee could do. It might be almost considered a prank, except with how ruthless these people tend to be, it could lead to something more.
When Drevin returned, Lee noticed the lack of the emperor's gift. His passing thought was that the drunkard had lost it and was about to get in trouble, but then noticed he had hidden the dagger in his boot and seemingly forgotten about it. But now, with nothing better to do, Lee realized that even if Drevin didn't lose the dagger on his own, he could give the guy a hand. After all helping others was a virtue.
Stealing the dagger was the easiest part. In the current condition Drevin probably wouldn't feel even if he was stabbed by it. The problem was where to hide it. Throwing in the bushes was out of the question since any servant could find it, give it back to the master in secret and no one would find out. Throwing in the lake was an option, but it might take years for someone to realize the dagger was gone. But there was one place where if found, the dagger could ignite a spark in a barn full of hay.
The devious idea was fun, but Lee had to be quick. Even though no one payed attention to the only kid in the party, at some point Tess's motherly instincts could awaken again, and she might start to look for him.
It only took few moments to draft the simple plan in his head. Lee casually slid off his chair, bumping into Drevin sitting next to him, and almost fell, but when he got up, the foot long dagger was already in his sleeve. It was as he expected – the drunkard was basically oblivious to anything that happened around him.
The next part was even easier. Lee, looking as bored as he could, slowly strolled by the table, then around the corner. He didn't even need to excuse himself with the pretense of needing to tinkle as the attention of everyone was either on their own discussions or the two unmoving statues on the stage.