NobleDoubts[continued from Forged in Blood] Cole’s kilt-oriented protest went off with little comment for the most part. Most students snickered, but otherwise remained amused. Professors furrowed brows and clucked tongues disapprovingly, but did not request he change his clothing. They were apparently of the school that ignored irregular student behavior, rather than ‘incite’ further rebellion through corporal punishment. Only an unexpected updraft caused a minor commotion when it revealed his unmentionables to most of the Commons. As the day came to a close, Cole returned to his apartments. He found Rhea waiting for him at the top of the stairs. She offered an anemic smile, “Cole. I think we need to talk.” Her eyes drifted down to his kilt, a snort escaping her. “But you’re changing out of that first.” "You're sure?" Cole asked her, grinning, as he climbed the stairs toward her. "You don't like it? I actually found it surprisingly comfortable. Not the current style, though, I suppose. And I wouldn't want you to be embarrassed to be seen with me." “Too late,” she muttered with a smile. He stopped at the antepenultimate stairs, where his eyes were nearly even with hers. Glancing down the empty stairs behind him and the empty hall behind her, he added, "I don't suppose I could get a kiss first?" She followed his gaze, confirming they were alone. She strode over to him, leaning forward to kiss him - a wistful, longing embrace that lingered on his lips like rain. “What in the Unicorn’s Name am I to do with you?” "That's a very dangerous question to ask a man outside his dorm room," Cole replied with a grin. "Fortunately for you, I am a gentleman." Rhea didn’t laugh as she usually would. She took Cole’s hand and let him lead her to his room. When the door closed behind them, she found a chair to collapse in. “Mother knows about us. But that’s the least of my worries.” She brushed her fingers through her hair, a cloud darkening her features. “Am I the only one?” she asked, her voice pained. "The only..." Cole looked puzzled for a moment, then several expressions crossed his face in rapid sequence. The one that finally settled would have done credit to an abashed golden retriever. He dropped to one knee in front of her chair, taking her hand. "Yes. Absolutely. Not at first, but now you are. I'm sorry." If Cole had the expression of gold retriever, Rhea’s expression became that of a wolf. A dark, predatory rage that betrayed what she truly was. A Daughter of Amber. A creature of wild passions and dangerous temperaments. And he had hurt her. The chair’s arm groaned beneath her tightened hand. “Not at first? What does that mean exactly? How long have you been playing me for a fool?” "I've never thought you were a fool," he said softly. "And I didn't play you. Since we met, you are all I've wanted. But the night we met, after I found out who you were, and your brother warned me away, I was... attacked, I guess is the right word for it. A girl found me unconscious in the street. I could have died, but she saved me. I was grateful of course, but she wanted more than my gratitude, and she was very insistent, and, and..." He trailed off dejectedly. "I think I'm pretty lousy at saying 'No'." "At that time I didn't even know if I'd ever be allowed to see you again. There didn't seem to be any harm in it. But I did see you again, and it was wonderful. And I wanted to see more of you, even though this other girl complicated things. So a few days ago I broke things off with her. I told her I wanted to be with you." Rhea tilted her head, listening, watching like some elegant raptor. Her stormy eyes darkened as he talked. By the end they had lightened, but clouds remained. She straightened up, “A few days ago? Well then. That’s perfectly fine, isn’t it?” "No," he said, "It's just a step in the right direction. With a promise of more to follow." She began to stand, “I am abundantly aware of the weakness of men, Cole. My brother lost his mother to such failings. What shall I lose, if I forgive you?” Cole's head raised, and when he looked into her eyes, something burned in his own. "Forgive me? Hold on a minute. What exactly are you intending to forgive me for? I like you a lot, and I'm interested in pursuing that. That's why I gave up my relationship with this other girl. But you and I hadn't made any promises to each other. We've barely _seen_ each other. I don't think under those conditions you can claim that I've been unfaithful to you. I'm willing to make a commitment to you right now, but up to that point, I've not done anything that requires your forgiveness." Rhea tightened her arms around her chest, staring at him with fire and storms in her eyes. For a moment, the warrior in Cole prepared to be throttled. But in the end, she gave a relenting nod. “Perhaps, after our trip to the Ghost City, I read more into our relationship than existed,” she said. “But you are correct. We have not laid claim to one another. Not formally.” She tilted her head, the storms now hinting at rain. “And now? Do you promise to be faithful to me? Truly, Cole. Think on this. Or am I setting myself up for disappointment?” "I swear upon my soul," Cole said, "I am yours, and I will have no other, for as long as you will have me. If I prove to be a disappointment you can release me, but I am sworn and cannot release myself." Rhea’s frown faltered, then transformed into a hopeful smile. She crossed the room, standing up on her toes to tenderly kiss him. “I have heard your oath and swear I shall be yours,” she whispered, leaning her head against his chest. Her arms looped around his waist, holding him firm. “And I don’t want to release you.” He hugged her back, lifting her feet off the floor. Eventually, reluctantly, he set her back down. "There," he said. "Now that's settled, we should have a celebratory dinner. Where should we go?" Rhea chuckled, getting her feet back on the group. She thumped his chest with the back of her hand. “Café Magnolia, of course,” she said. “You’re buying. And no complaining about the Rebman food.” He made a face, and seeing her reaction, he said "What? No, of course, I love Rebman food. I was just thinking of, um, some other kind of food that I don't like. Which is completely unrelated." “Well good,” Rhea said with an evil smirk. “I want to see your reaction to the braised sea cucumber. They do the innards with a tangy garlic sauce.” "Mmm, innards," Cole replied. "Sure, I'll try it. Plants are probably safe, right?" “Uh. Plant? Oh yes. Of course, it’s a very leafy plant. Like salad,” she lied. Cole tried not to look relieved, and failed. She looped her arm through his, smiling shyly. “So, are you ready to meet the Family?” He led her toward the door. "Let's see, I've already spilled tea on Auntie Flora. And I did pester your brother until he told me about feeding sweet rolls to the birds. Is there anyone important that I'm missing?" “My parents for one,” Rhea replied, leaning against him as they headed toward the street. “Uncle Caine will undoubtedly wish to give you the once over. Not to fear though. He rarely takes my boyfriends down to the dungeon anymore. Well. . . except that one time.” She grimaced and rubbed her shoulders as getting an unpleasant chill. "Caine," Cole murmured. "Isn't he in charge of the blackcloaks?" “That he is,” she nodded. “Dad never did like dealing with the darker side of the world. He leaves that to his brothers with the stomach for it.” "Must be nice to be able to delegate that sort of thing," Cole said. The evening felt cool, but the city bustled with life - its citizenry eager to enjoy the spring-time night. Rhea briefly paused to tell her footman to bring the carriage to the café in Five Corners. “I hope you don’t mind, but I would rather walk tonight. It is not far from here.” "I don't mind. I find my way around this town at night pretty well now. Maybe better than during the day, actually." As they walked, Cole appeared to be relaxed, but he was constantly alert to any threats: such assessments were no longer under his conscious control. "So, how is your return to Amber treating you? Is it like you remember?" “The same. And different,” Rhea replied. “More technology, that’s for sure. New ships. New buildings. Dad has done an amazing job tweaking the paradigms to allow all this progress. Back in King Eric’s time, you wouldn’t see half of what’s possible today. Maybe that’s a good thing, in some cases. I like that people from Shadow can come here now. It makes the city more. . . alive. 'What about you? Is it much different from your Shadow?" Cole laughed. "Amber is considerably more cozmi... costum.... Dammit. There's a lot more variety here. In Corinor, the capitol, you see some very interesting people down by the docks, but they don't set up shops in the city the way they do here. I always liked the docks," he said, laughing again. "The railroad just came through recently--my trip here was the first time I've been on it--and we have yet to see how that will change things. Perondor has forest to rival your Arden, and its lumber, and ships made from it, is our chief export. Mom's worried the railroad will devalue that, but we couldn't very well be the only nation in the Golden Circle that wasn't connected to it. Ick, economics." "Anyway," he continued, "Corinor's a lot like Amber, of course, being a reflection and all. Sits on a mountainside by the sea surrounded by forest. Our trees grow really fast and tall, though, so they're everywhere. I hear in other shadows most cities have huge open areas around where all the forest has been used up, but we have to keep clearing it away so we can grow food crops. Untended fields turn back into forest in just a couple of years. So Corinor has a lot more trees, all through the city, because the shade from the bigger trees is about the only thing that keeps more trees from growing. I do miss the trees." “When then, perhaps I can convince Uncle Julian to escort us into the Forest Arden,” Rhea said with a beaming smile. “I am certain it would provide you with a taste of home. We could make a day trip out of it.” She smirked. “And I think you meant ‘cosmopolitan.’” "Yeah," he said with a smile, "That was the word. Sure, I'd love to see Arden. With you." She smiled warmly. They turned down another brightly lit alleyway, “Economics is the life’s blood of our society, Cole. Don’t be so quick to dismiss it. Indeed, I’ve heard that Corinor may become quite wealthy in the near future. Did it not just solidify a major trade agreement with Rebma?” Cole shrugged. "I dunno. I don't pay attention to that stuff. Not my responsibility." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Though I might have had something to do with the agreement, now that you mention it. I visited a friend in Rebma recently--quite by accident--and made a good impression on his mother. Maybe that got negotiations started. I don't know." Rhea raised a curious brow, “Oh? You have friends in Rebma? What House? Most don’t allow their young men to engage in such activities. Economics and politics are for the superior gender.” "House Galitzerother, something like that. Sorry, I don't know Rebman names very well. His first name is Joao, which is enough of a mouthful. I don't think he's much into economics or politics. He's a student here. And don't think I didn't catch that 'superior gender' comment, but as far as I'm concerned, your gender can have all the economics and politics you want. We menfolk will just swing swords in your honor and sing you love songs to win you over. You'll be putty in our hands." Rhea gave him a doubtful look, “Oh we will, will we?” She hugged his arm and laughed – a gentle, angelic sound. “Perhaps you’re right. We do seem to fall for the swinging sword types.” They exited the alleyway onto a main thoroughfare - a circular street that surrounded a small park. Five main roads fed into the street, creating a vibrant amount of traffic. Shops and restaurants lined the outer circle, taking full advantage of this bustling center of activity. Rhea led them over to an open-air café - the words ‘Magnolia’ painted above the door. A tall, curvy, green-skinned woman emerged. Almost immediately, she cried in delight and wrapped her arms around Rhea. “My darling, Starfish. It has been too long!” Rhea hugged the woman back, chuckled. “I’ve missed you too! E’lbram. This is Cole. Cole. Mistress E’lbram.” E’lbram grinned at Cole, “He’s handsome.” Cole grinned back. "Mistress, please. My ego is insufferable enough. Just ask the lady here." Rhea nodded, “Oh yes. He’s quite correct about that.” She hugged his arm, laughing. “Truly insufferable.” E’lbram gave a throaty chuckle - like the surf inside a sea cave. “Very well. I’ll refrain from flattery. Now, you two look positively skeletal. Time to fatten you up. Come, come. Your booth awaits.” She led them inside and sat them as a private booth, “I’ll be back with the menus and some Rebman Muscat.” "I won't need a menu," Cole replied. "I'll just have what the lady is having." E’lbram frowned with concern. Finally, she nodded, “Very well. I will have a runner fetch the doctor. He should arrive just before dessert.” Her lips purse, fighting a smile as she walks off. Rhea sipped her water, laughter in her eyes. Cole watched E’lbram leave, eyes wide, caught between uncertainty, amusement, and alarm. Several of the patrons took notice of them, dipping their heads reverently before talking amongst themselves excitedly. Rhea smiled at Cole, waiting. "Starfish, huh?" Cole asked her. "Is there a story behind that, or is that her pet name for any lovely young woman?" Rhea set her glass down and lightly groaned. “There is a story, that’s true. E’lbram used to be my mother’s personal cook. She followed her after my father’s release from Rebma. As a little girl, I would spend hours in the kitchens, watching and learning all the skills. But when it came time for my more ‘noble’ lessons, I would grip whatever I could get my arms and legs around and hang on for dear life. Dad would always have to come tickle me until I let go. And even then it was a bit of a fight. E’lbram said I was ‘stubborn as a starfish,’ and the name stuck.” Cole laughed. "Mom tells me that when I was little, she called me her little barnacle, for similar reasons. I went with her everywhere, up until Deric was born. Apparently I was a convenient reason to keep meetings from going too long." "So you cook, huh? I suppose it's smart to have skills to fall back on, in case the bottom ever drops out of the royalty business. What else do you do?" She smirked at his first comment, “I just finished my second Ph.D. In Economics, this time. Dad is useless when it comes to financial affairs. Unless it has to do with gambling. Then, he’s an absolute genius. Honestly, I would like to help with the Renaissance he’s trying to bring to Amber and the Golden Circle. Maybe as an ambassador. Or something closer to home. An architect, perhaps. “What do you intend to do with your life after school?” "There's life after school?" he asked, grinning. "With two Ph.D.'s, I'm not sure you could prove there is. But I haven't thought that far ahead. Travel the world, I guess. Worlds, actually. Draw what I see and play music for the people I meet. Spread the joy. Maybe get a dog." He shrugged. "I guess it depends on what you do. Ambassadoring sounds like a possibility. I'll try not to start any wars." "What was the first Ph.D.?" he asked. “Cultural Studies,” she said, smiling. “Specializing in Linguistics. I’ve always found that the essence of Creation is based on language. The red-heads might believe that metaphysics define the structure of the universe. But I believe that words define perception, which in turn defines how we perceive and interact with Creation. And each other, of course.” She ran her hand through her hair, blushing nervously; as if expect a rebuff. "Interesting," Cole said, staring somewhere just past her left ear, brow furrowed in thought. "Words are, of course, tremendously important. That's why songs have lyrics. But you can also have music without words, and pictures that are worth a thousand words. So we can perceive and interact with sound and images without words: experiencing them can touch us very deeply. But when it comes to sharing those experiences, to describing how they touched us, we rely on words. So I might not agree that words define perception, but they probably define our understanding of what we perceive, and give us the ability to share that understanding with others." His eyes flicked back to hers, and then down at the table. "But I've always been more interested in playing music and making pictures than reading books, so I'm probably biased." Rhea smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.” His face turned uncharacteristically red. E’lbram returned with two steaming, hot-pots and seaweed salads. She set them down in front of the dinners and then gingerly removed the lids. A waft of savory steam rose up, revealing an intricate collection of vegetables and a lightly colored meat - thinly sliced fish, he suspected. “Blowfish stew,” she announced. “The numbing sensation on your lips is normal.” She remained there, waiting for Cole to take a bite. Rhea chuckled and put her napkin over her lap. Following her lead, and years of hard-drilled etiquette training, Cole positioned his napkin likewise. He picked up the outermost fork of his place setting and hesitated, unsure what to do, having been trained that it was for the salad, but knowing that E'lbram was waiting for an assessment of the stew. Deciding that this was the salad course, regardless of the actual content, he dipped the fork into the stew and pulled out a morsel of the fish. He held it up to his lips and then stopped, looking at it. "Blowfish?" he asked. "Isn't that the stuff that...." He glanced at E'lbram, then at Rhea, shrugged, and popped it in his mouth anyway. The flavor ignited in his mouth - a heady mixture of spices he’d never sampled before. His lips grew slightly numb, tingling. But the sensation was not unpleasant. E’lbram clapped, “Well, either you’re very brave or reckless. Either way, I’m impressed. Enjoy your meal, you two.” She departed, laughing to herself. Rhea chuckled and began to eat, “Don’t worry. E’lbram is a master with the knife. She can get every bit of meat off the puffer without ever touching the poisonous bits.” She gave him a wry smile, “But you’ll probably get a little light-headed after. This being your first time.” "I'm not likely to notice any additional source of light-headedness," he replied, smiling. "She's right, I'm reckless. But my people tend to be pretty sturdy--they do call us oak-bloods for a reason--so I wasn't too worried about being poisoned. And I also realized that if she was likely to prepare the fish incorrectly, she wouldn't have survived as your family's chef for so long. So for once I took a calculated risk. I'm just glad I stopped before I said anything insulting." “How diplomatic and astute of you, Cole. And I’m certain E’lbram appreciated the gesture,” Rhea smiled. “You may make for an ambassador yet.” She ate with a refined delicacy, content with silence or conversation. After eating for a few minutes in silence, Cole asked, "Do you ever notice anything odd in the castle at night?" Rhea sipped her water, mulling over Cole’s question - her face revealing her confusion. “Odd? Castle Amber is infested with the peculiar, especially at night. That’s when my aunts and uncles are usually hatching their secrets. Always some mystery afoot. And it is haunted, of course. Entire generations have lived and died there. But I think it’s all a combination of atmosphere and over-active imaginations. ‘Why do you ask?” "Strange things happen around this town, right at midnight. Things moving from one place to another, or vanishing altogether. Or just suddenly being broken or ruined. People drained of their will, with that apathy syndrome. Have you ever noticed anything like that?" Rhea shook her head, appearing puzzled. “No.” She paused, thinking. A shiver passed through her. “But, now that you mention it, I have heard my uncle talking about this Apathy Syndrome with my father. Not that they realized it at the time. They appeared very concerned that it might be spreading. I did not catch most of it, because the acoustics can be bad in the library. But they said that ‘another’ guard fell prey to it. And it had nothing to do with the ‘thing in the basement.’” She shivered again, “I tried to put it out of my mind. My father is rarely grave in manner unless something terrible is truly afoot.” "I'd say this qualifies," Cole said, nodding. "Apathy Syndrome is... bad. It's not contagious, though. It's not spreading like a disease spreads. It's a symptom of these things that are happening at midnight. And I'm afraid it's coming from something that's happening in your castle. What is the..." he trailed off, realizing he knew what she meant by "the thing in the basement"--or rather, Finndo knew. "Oh." Finndo suspected she may have been either referring to Dworkin or the Cackle - a creature he and his father caught while hunting in shadow. This extra-dimensional creature had a profound effect on the mind, usually stripping anyone that heard its cry of their senses. He’d personally put down twelve of his men, who were driving insane. They kept the beast locked away near the Pattern room to prevent it from causing further damage in Creation. “From my home? But I would think Father and the family would be addressing this more actively,” Rhea said, scandalized. “Are you certain?” "No," he said, torn between complete honesty and alarming her further, "Not completely. But I think so. As for your father, I doubt there's any way he can tell. I don't know why _I_ can tell. As far as I know only a handful of people can sense what is happening." He sighed. "This is going to sound really weird. Unbelievable, actually. Where do I start? Oh, I know! Do you remember the figure that confronted us in the castle in the sky? Do you know who that was?" Rhea set her fork aside and nodded, “Yes. How could I forget that night? I thought he looked familiar. I saw the painting on the third floor of the castle once. In the abandoned section. He was my uncle Finndo and died centuries before my father was even born. “There isn’t much about him in the library. My grandfather’s doing, I suspect. From what I read in Uncle Benedict’s journals, Oberon and Finndo had a serious falling out over Osric’s death – his twin. Something to do with the Karm Vendetta.” Cole felt a sharp pain in right hand as he crushed his glass in it. “I’ll kill the son of a whore for what he did,” he growled in a voice not his own. Rhea leapt forward to staunch his bleeding hand with her napkin, "Cole?! Are you alright?" "Ah, dammit," Cole swore, reasserting control, "Quiet in there, you. The man's already dead, and you're freaking the lady out." Glancing up at Rhea's stunned face, he added, "As am I." He sighed. "Finndo and I are... linked," he said. "I'm like his reincarnation or something. Neither of us is particularly thrilled about it, but we're trying to make the best of it." Rhea stared at him for a moment, blinking. She pulled back from him, frowning. “Is this some kind of joke? If it is, it’s not funny, Cole.” "No," he agreed, his gaze level with hers, "it isn't funny at all. And not just because in some weird way it sort of makes me your uncle. Being linked to Finndo like this somehow means that I can see some of the things that are going on. Those weird things I asked you about. The creatures that cause Apathy Syndrome. They're not funny." He looked at the lovely dinner before them, his appetite forgotten. "Drat. And now I've gone and ruined our celebration dinner. I'm sorry. But I thought you should know. There are very weird and nasty things going on, and I can't get out of them. I'll do everything I can to protect you, but... It's bad. Maybe this isn't a good time for us to get involved." Rhea frowned, leaning back as if she’s just realized she is dealing with something. . . dangerous. The caution became contained rage, a tempest in her eyes. She pushed away from him, standing up. “Cole. I don’t know who the hell you think you are or what exactly you’re trying to prove with all this. . . well, whatever this is. If you do not wish to be exclusively involved with me, then so be it. But there are easier ways of going about it than telling me ghost stories.” She sat down, “I’m going to finish my dinner, Ser Di Perondor. You may do whatever you wish. But for now, I would prefer that you do it elsewhere. I hope that when next we meet, you are making more sense. Good evening to you.” "I'm not trying to prove anything!" he hissed through clenched teeth, barely controlling his voice, and his temper. "I'm trying to make sure you don't wind up a mindless drooling husk, shambling through the halls of your castle. I couldn't bear it. And if I have to rip apart every single one of these things with my goddam hands to prevent it, I'll do so. If I thought I could pack you in a crate and ship you to my mother's castle to keep you safe, I'd do it. But as long as these things are hunting me, and as long as I'm hunting them back, as much as I enjoy the pleasure of your company, I'm terrified to have you around. I'm sorry if I'm not making sense. I don't know how to prove to you that I'm telling you the truth. I suppose I could take off my shirt and show you the scars, but I think I've scandalized the mosquitoes enough already. I don't know what to do. But I know I love you. And I.... His tirade faltered. "I... I don't know what else. I'm so out of my depth. I don't know what to do." He stared down at his bleeding hand. Rhea flinched, her face softening as Cole expressed himself. In the end, she reached around the table and covered his bleeding hand. A nervous smile curled her kissable lips. “I. . . I cannot say I understand what you are talking of, Cole. But I can hear the conviction in your words. And the love in your voice.” She nodded, “I believe you. And I will do what I might to help you. Because I love you too.” Cole nodded, mutely. Aside from a request for a bandage for Cole's hand--which wasn't as badly injured as it had at first appeared, or he healed faster than had been his past experience--the rest of dinner passed uneventfully, and quietly. They walked around town afterward, taking in some of the prettier sights and talking of inconsequential things, and their mood was closer to normal by the time they arrived back at her home. As far as he could tell, he did a good job of concealing the anxiety he felt at being there so late, but he couldn't bring himself to part with her any sooner. [Continued in ] |
