With his hair dyed blond, his skin darkened a few shades, freckles painted on, and height-boosting boots on his feet, Annan was no longer quite so popular.
Some ladies were still willing to spend a night with him, but they no longer had that urge to scoop him into their arms and squeeze him.
Annan stayed with one of Reynaldo's trusted aides. Nearby, musicians played a lively tune in the center of the hall while the aide introduced the ladies and their families.
The aide was somewhat moved. The "notorious" Lord Annan had shown little interest in the women themselves, focusing instead on remembering the nobles behind them.
He could not help recalling Reynaldo's assessment of great people: what made them strong was not their ability to command, but their ability to restrain their desires.
And Annan's accomplishments needed no defending.
After Annan politely declined several ladies' invitations, they stopped approaching him. Finally left in peace, he took the chance to commit them to memory.
Just then, Peacekeeper Milburn walked toward him.
The aide stepped away for the moment. Annan picked up a glass of Fruit Juice and went to meet Milburn.
"No one caught your eye?" Peacekeeper Milburn asked, sounding like an elder speaking to a junior.
To look at him, he was in his forties. His neat, short hair, threaded with silver, made him seem thoroughly respectable. If Annan had not learned about his dark dealings from Reynaldo, he would have struggled to imagine him as a major human trafficker.
Then again, it made sense... The City Guard controlled the gates. Letting contraband into the New Royal Capital could hardly be easier.
"Uncle Reynaldo assigned an aide to watch me," Annan said with a rueful smile.
Peacekeeper Milburn patted Annan's shoulder and lowered his voice. "Tell me which