Prince Alphonse. Or, as Tor knew him, Rolph, his buddy, and roommate from school. In disguise, sort of at least.

“I can almost guarantee you that if you strike a child in his presence Tor won't make anything for you, ever. In fact he'll probably come over and kick your ass right here in the hall. Don't think he can't either. I suppose you could try it and see if I'm lying, but really, getting your name on a list is about the best you can do here right now. I'd just take that and leave quietly, or at least start trying to be a bit more civil with our staff.” It wasn’t his normal tone, but Rolph sounded a little cold. Like ice. It was his half whispering that did it.

A deep chuckle came from someone that Tor couldn't see at all, “Too right Bertie. I'm marrying his sister, and we're close personal friends, he was the one that introduced us even, and I still have to sign up to visit with him myself. No fair jumping the line here.” There was good humor in the voice, which Tor recognized as belonging to Count Toverland Morehouse Thomson. Tovey, a friend of his from school, back when they'd all gone. Forever ago it seemed. Months even. It was nice that the blond giant had come to visit. Now if they could just get rid of this other Count…

Count Morris bristling a little, which Tor understood. Tovey may be the man’s equal in social rank and position, but he was also only about twenty-one years old. Or was it twenty still? Tor was pretty sure he'd missed that birthday, along with his own and Rolph's. Working too much to pay attention. The Prince and he were both eighteen now and had been for a while. Really he needed to get himself caught up on presents pretty soon, or at least send out a card or two. Not to mention all the ones he'd missed with his own family back in Two Bends, and all the people back at his own house. They were his guests after all, in a way, even if they lived and worked there full time. Which made them family, didn't it? Tor hadn't realized how far behind he'd been falling on social obligations.