" Seeing the look on his face, she snorted. "Hey, if I could afford my own drinks and all, I wouldn't be here, and doing this." What would 'this' be?"...The man chuckled as he laid a hand on the woman's leg."Hey, no free samples," she brushed his hand off, jumping in surprise. She wavered in uncertainty, as though she was tempted to run for the door before she settled back onto her stool."Okay then. How much?" How much for what?" Oh come on honey. Cut the crap. We both know what you are. How. Anne sighs. Ah, well perhaps not time to broach the subject just yet.Meanwhile, their father continues. "I have, however, had some news on a more local front I thought I should share with you! You know Applethorpe Manor, out in the country a ways?" Old Lord Withington's house?" Esther asks. The middle child of the family, she's a skinny and severe-looking 20-year-old, with dark hair and eyes. Their father nods."Indeed, indeed. That one. Well, a young man has at last taken it over; purchased it. Artsy was in charge tonight, from asking for the date, picking his clothes, to determining the pace of the evening. Go with the flow Dan, you probably won’t get laid tonight, but you never know. As midnight approached there was a flurry of activity in the gallery to clear the entire floor. A tape deck, of all things, began to play traditional Guy Lombardo Orchestra music and the in crowd art community ushered in the new year slow dancing the waltz and foxtrot. Auld Lang Syne played at midnight. Great wealth and power would be added to the man she married. Repeatedly, she shunned each suitor. All were interested only in power, money or the chance to mine the treasures that lied beneath her skirts. The King, never satisfied with the quality of any suitors, consistently backed his daughter’s wishes. He wanted her husband to be worthy of all he would gain, most importantly, her reciprocated love and devotion, an unalterable prerequisite, until now. His Kingdom, and the lives of his Queen.