With a stealth born of practice, Ten entered the house quietly. It occurred to him that he had not been quite so skilled that morning, but he could attribute that to the awkwardness of finding himself in the bed of a strange man.

Despite his near-silent entry, and the lack of people in the foyer, Ten got no further than the stairs before his father bellowed his name from the study. Grimacing, because he'd gotten caught and because having his father's attention was never a good thing, Ten turned from the stairs and walked the marbled hallway that led to his father's private domain.

No one was allowed in the study, a room marked by tall windows, a large oak desk, and walls lined with bookshelves, without the express permission of the head of the house; that included the family, the daily servants, and weekly cleaning personnel.

"Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyakul, where have you been?" his father barked out the moment Ten appeared in the doorway.

Ten bowed his head and shrugged. His father would most likely not like the truth, and he had learned long ago that he lacked the skill to lie. Better to say nothing, and hope that he received only a scolding for holding back.

"Ah, come along, Tennie" his sister crowed. Ten raised his head enough to glance at the corner. His younger sister, Tern, was sprawled in one of the high-backed chairs, her pretty face twisted into a mocking pout. "Don't hold out on us, dear brother."

"Stay out of this, Tern" their father ordered, his tone more gentle than the one that he had used with Ten, but still commanding. "Ten" his father said, his voice hardening as he turned his attention back to his son. "I expected you back last night. You said that you were only dropping your friends off. I ended up having to make excuses to the mayor for your absence."

If anything, the expression on Ten's face tightened. His father hated making excuses for anything, himself included, and for him to have to extert himself on Ten's behalf would most likely have negative consequences for Ten. Added to that the fact that he had proven himself unreliable in his father's eyes, and he started to wish that he'd just stayed at Johnny's.

That was the only bright spot to his day, and the momentary happiness he'd found that morning was beginning to seem very frail and bittersweet.

"You will call the mayor this afternoon and apologize, Ten. And then you will invite his daughter out for the spring picnic. You're not worthy of her, but both of her brothers are busy, and she mentioned needing an . You will volunteer yourself to be in service to her."

It was business as usual, it seemed. He was grateful to get off so lightly, compared to the punishments he'd endured in the past. He nodded and murmured his agreement, which was both unnecessary to and unheard by his father. A quick glance at his sister showed that, though still smirking, even she'd moved on to more important things.

Ten quit the study quickly, making his way to the stairs and then up them. He was almost at the sanctuary of his room when he saw his door open and two of his cousins leave. The three of them stopped on the landing and stared at each other, and then the cousins giggled and passed him as they went on their way, leaving his door wide open.

He stepped into the room; it was hard to tell how long they'd been in there, but it had to have been more than a few minutes. His books were strewn in front of his bookcase and on his bed, and his memorabilia box, so entitled because it held loose photos and old notes, was tipped over, spilling its contents onto his desk.

After a moment, during which he fought the initial surge of anger, he stepped into his room, shutting the door gently behind him. It was with a sigh and a heavy feeling in his chest that he set his room to rights, quickly putting everything back in its proper place. He wasn't worried about his cousins finding anything important. So