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An hour or so later—Amba and Helena were fast in their toilette—three young women presented themselves in Amber's throne room for tea.

Out of Ness's clothing, Helena had chosen a pale lavender dress that nicely offset her flaxen hair and fair skin. It was floor length, with a fitted bodice that showed a considerable amount of back and arm. She had balked at wearing any sort of heel and instead chose soft slippers of the same color.

Ness had twisted Helena's hair up off her shoulders, leaving one enticing strand to curl its way down her neck. She finished Helena's ensemble with a strand of pearls with matching pearl and silver earrings.

All in all, this was as formal as Helena had been since the ball her parents threw at Ishtarways two years ago.

And this was for afternoon tea?

Feeling simultaneously bemused and alarmed, Helena looked to Ness to determine what they were to do next.

The throne room was deserted but, as they stood there, they could hear a low murmur of voices coming from behind the area of the throne itself.

Cly wore a similar dress, a sheer floor-length thing that was the color of teal and sea-foam, complimented with jade and gold. She smiled at the other two. "Father is entertaining," she said. "A private office."

Amba had been so flustered at picking a dress from the extensive array that Clytemnestra had set before them that she'd been unable to choose. Knowing that Helena had at least a modicum of knowledge of what to wear, she'd let her friend choose for her.

Helena chose a simple, yet elegant halter dress for Amba. She picked one in light ivory, complimenting Amba's skin tones and black hair. Gold earrings and gold satin slippers finished the ensemble.

Helen raised her eyebrows in question at her sister. "Do we join him there or stay here?"

Cly smiled in return. "Do we have a choice but to stay here? Father seems to have taken steps to preserve his...privacy."

But at this moment, there was the click of a door opening, and Mandor appeared, strolling around the side of the throne.

"I was entertaining a guest," he said. "Another cousin of yours for you to meet, Helena." He moved forward to place his fingers on her shoulders and kiss her cheek. For Amba there was a smile and a bow of the head.

Helena smiled back at him.

Amba inclined her head, deeper, holding it for a brief moment before raising it once again.

"Most charming," he said to them both. "I detect Clytemnestra's unerring hand in the styling, but you both bring a freshness of inspiration to the style. Come. Let's have tea."

He led them behind the throne.

Helena eyed it with interest as they passed by.

There were two doors there. One was closed, but the other stood ajar to reveal a small, snugly furnished study with comfortable chairs grouped around a fire and a low table currently set for tea. Seated in one of them was a beautiful woman in a stunning red dress, who Clytemnestra recognised as Petra, owner of the Ramblin' Queen.

"Helena, my dear," said Mandor, "this is your cousin Petra, a rather enterprising businesswoman here in Amber. Petra, this is my daughter's friend, Amba of House Heldt. And my other daughter you already know, I believe, if only by reputation."

Helena bowed her head to the woman and smiled politely. "Petra. I'm pleased to meet you."

In turn, Amba bowed politely also, though she let Helena's words speak for them both.

"A pleasure, ladies," Petra smiled and inclined her head politely to the two lovelies. "Welcome to Amber." Her hazel eyes drifted to the third woman in the tableau vivant.

"Buon pomeriggio, Clytemnestra."

Cly smiled in return. "A pleasure, Petra."

"Please," said Mandor, "be seated, all of you." He waited till they did so, and then resumed his own seat close to Petra. "Clytemnestra," he said, "perhaps you could be our hostess and pour?"

For once, Cly didn't say something acerbic in return; she merely nodded and set about the task.

"Petra, how are you related?" Helena asked. "I'm trying to construct a family tree in my head to help keep everyone straight," she added, smiling.

"Merlin assures me I am Benedict's," Petra responded lightly. "Having seen pictures of the man, I can see why his belief is so firm. My mother, she agrees with him, and one does not argue with mia madre."

Amba sat in amiable silence, content merely to observe the others at the table, and listen to the conversation.

Helena smiled again. She understood—she had a mother like this, too. "And your business? What do you do?"

Petra's smile twitched at corners. The nearness of Mandor was the only thing that kept her from answering with the cheeky response that was on the tip of her tongue.. "I own The Ramblin' Queen, a floating entertainment palace that caters to the diverse interests of a very select clientele."

"A profitable endeavor, I imagine," Helena replied smoothly, "if 'diverse interests' means what I think it means."

"It means diverse interests," Petra responded mildly. "Which includes what you think it does, but is in no way limited to just those particular interests. Our kitchens are exquisite, our wine cellars, the best in Amber. We employ talented musicians, run lively gaming tables, and our art collection has even garnered Aunt Florimel's interest."

"Very impressive, Petra. Thank you, Ness," Helena said as her sister served her tea. She looked back over at Petra. "As visitors to Amber for the first time, what would you suggest Amba and I see and do?"

"I suppose that would depend on your interests, Helena," Petra mused. "I have always found the Artists Quarter quite delightful. It has several hidden treasures tucked away in those small studios There is a jeweler in the middle of Narfi Street that I make a point of visiting at least once a month to see the new designs as they are finished, and a cobbler on Crannog that creates the most astonishing boots. I also think the galleries on Cornaro Street worth visiting, but that may just be sentimentality. There is always a street performance going on somewhere, and new murals are always popping up. It has a rather festive air to it, the Quarter."

"Why sentimentality?" Amba asked

Petra smiled. "As far as I know, it is named after my home Shadow. In a few places galleries, I am even reminded of home."

Amba returned her smile, but only Helena knew the cost of it. "It must be nice to remember it so," she said. "Is your shadow near, then? As such things go, of course."

"Do you know," responded Petra thoughtfully with a little surprise. "I have never traveled through Shadow to get there from here, and it has never occurred to me before. When Merlin brought me here, we returned through a Trump, and he was nice enough to dash off a sketch for me so I could return until I could get an actual Trump done. I cannot say I know how far it is."

"That is interesting," Amba returned. "I was just wondering how an influence from your home shadow came to be here. Have you been in Amber long?"

Petra pursed her lips and looked off into space a moment. "Seventy-five years. Not so long in the grand scheme of things," she said with an elegant one shouldered shrug. "But most of the staff of the Ramblin' Queen are also from Cornaro, and I did spend quite a lot of time in the Quarter when I first arrived."

"Is the Artist's Quarter anywhere near Five Corners?" Helena asked Petra idly. "I remember that's where Solitaire said she lived. Do you know Solitaire Helgram?"

"We have never been introduced," replied Petra in the same tone and an enigmatic smile. "But I know who she is. Some of my staff have apartments in Five Corners-which is, I believe, a ward over from Blind Chapman, where the Quarter is . One of the staff and young Ms. Helgram seemed to have hit it off quite well from what he tells me."

Helena nodded and took a sip of her tea. She looked up at Mandor and Clytemnestra. "You've both been very quiet. Do either of you have suggestions of places for us to visit?"

"If you wish," said Mandor, "I can arrange for you to see the remains of the Pattern Chamber. An excursion out to the protected areas of Garnath. A wyvern overflight of the fringes of Arden. Perhaps a trip to Rebma."

He took a sip of tea. "And, when the moon is right, perhaps we could venture a little way up the Steps."

Cly's eyebrow rose. "Just a little way?" she asked.

Helena paused in mid-sip to stare at [Mandor]. Formal dresses and demure teas and sedate sightseeing was all part and parcel of what she expected to have to endure as a proper young lady of the court. That Mandor should offer them something different was refreshing and perhaps unexpected, but that he should pick things that would greatly interest and fascinate her was almost, well, unsettling. It suggested he'd been watching her—them, for Amba was a vital part of her life—for some time.

"All the way," Helena replied earnestly. "I don't know what steps you're referring to or where they lead, but of course we'd have to go all the way."

For her part, Petra just sipped her tea with a completely unreadable expression on her face.

Amba looked quite surprised at the suggestion as she poured a liberal amount of sugar into her tea once, then twice apparently deciding it was still a bit bitter. "The steps to ... Tir?" she ventured. "I'd thought them sealed against any incursion?"

At this point there was a polite knock at the door, and an impeccably dressed man with dark hair and hesitant smile stood framed there. In his hand was a folder, which he held in front of him like a shield. "Pardon me, Prime Minister; ladies." He bowed then, a fluid, practiced gesture of one used to the highest company. "Sorry to interrupt. I have some documents for Her Royal Highness." His dark eyes moved from Mandor's to Clytemnestra's as if she was the only other person in the room.

A second eyebrow joined the first. "Documents that couldn't wait until after tea?" she said, then turned to the others. "Forgive me. I'll be just a moment."

"Perhaps," Vikund replied smoothly, "but that would deny me the opportunity to meet this pantheon of beauty. Allow me to introduce myself; Vikund Anansi, servant of the Crown. My services are at your disposal."

His eyes scanned the faces around the table, settling on Petra's. "Good afternoon, Ms. Rossi," he said pleasantly. "I trust you are recovered from this morning's travails."

"Buon pomeriggio, Signor Anansi," Petra responded smoothly. "The events of the morning, they are like...," she gestured vaguely with her right hand, the antique gold and deep red stone of the Rossini signet glittering with the movement. "A distant memory, si? Easily forgotten in the face of tomorrow, now that those who matter seem to have recovered from the ordeal."

"I'm pleased you can take it all in your stride," Vikund replied. He offered Clytemnestra the file. "All self-explanatory, I trust, but do let me know if there are any... issues."

Helena only nodded to Vikund as his gaze passed over her. He would know who they were already—her relationship to her sister was unmistakable—and he seemed more interested in other people there.

The gaze returned to each of those seated as Vikund prepared to withdraw. It was not a cursory inspection, but one of someone who could tell a lot about someone in a very short time. Whether he was interested in one person above another was not entirely clear. "Again, my apologies. Enjoy your tea. I look forward to the possibility of meeting you all properly later."

"Please," said Mandor, "join us. I'm sure you could find some fascinating spots in Amber for my daughter and her friend Amba of Heldt to visit. Your cousin Vikund's knowledge of the streets of Amber is positively ... encyclopedic," he added, for Helena's benefit.

"Ah well, since you insist," Vikund beamed, pulling up a seat. "Ms. Rossi's establishment aside, I most heartily recommend the Artist's Quarter. The atmosphere alone is the stuff of legend. You can almost feel the creativity sweating from the walls. Have you ever been to the theatre?" He asked, curiously.

When Vikund suggested the Artist's Quarter, Helena glanced at Petra and smiled.

"Many times," she answered Vikund. "It was as a small child coming to the theatre with my parents that I saw ballet for the first time and hence became interested in dance. I performed for awhile, when I was younger..."

Helena trailed off as an interesting expression crossed her face, then she shrugged. "I go less now that I have other pursuits that occupy my time, but manage to get back every once in awhile with my parents. And I drag Amba with me, when she's interested in coming."

She grinned sideways at the woman sitting next to her.

"What sort of theatre do they perform here?" Helena asked.

"Classical drama mostly, but musicals and comedies too," Vikund replied. "I rather depends which theatre you go to. I recommend 'The Rose'. They're running 'The Poem of Fire' at the moment, a moving piece about a tortured artist. The city is culturally diverse, as you'd expect, so I'm sure you could find something to your tastes."

Cly sat down a moment to glance at the papers handed to her.

Helena nodded. "Thank you for the suggestions," she said to Vikund. "And now may I ask how we're related? As I explained to Petra, I'm trying to keep a family tree in my head."

"I am the alleged son of the exiled previous king of Amber," Vikund replied. "As such I hardly qualify to be part of the family tree at all, unless one counts the ivy.

"Thankfully the ties of blood do not occupy minds as much as was once the case," he continued with a chuckle, "otherwise I'd still be bashing metal in Clamour Smoke."

Helena raised an eyebrow, eerily similar to the one Clytemnestra raised a moment ago. Was that a simple, self deprecating defense, or a testing thrust?

Mandor smiled faintly. "I think you will give our visitors the wrong impression if you imply his Majesty is presiding over a meritocracy," he said mildly.

Parry and riposte, though off-target—more of a warning than anything else. Helena's eyes flicked back to Vikund.

Vikund returned the smile. "Perhaps not, but I like to think of it as an enlightened monarchy rather than one hidebound with outdated traditions," he said. "Of course, that is just my perspective."

Parry and step back out of range. Helena took a sip of her tea as she looked back at Mandor, waiting to see if he'd advance his position or end the match.

"And I am sure," said Mandor, "that your cousin Petra would have a very different one - would that not be right?" He took a delicate sip of tea. "But I am in hopes that I have persuaded the Signora to grace us with her presence more often."

"Definitely a breath of fresh air," Cly added benignly.

Petra smiled lazily at Cly, and then turned to the man beside her. "I said I would try, si? But I am a busy woman, you know, and it is always something. In fact, I should be taking my leave soon. Before Vincenzo sends out a search party armed with unpleasant things."

"Certainly," said Mandor. "But I trust your duties will spare you for long enough to join us at dinner this evening? It will be the first time that the family has gathered in such strength for many years, I believe."

Petra looked mildly surprised at the invitation. "Perhaps. I do have a staff meeting to oversee, assignments to hand out. We're a bit shorthanded tonight," she added with an annoyed sniff. "What time is dinner here?"

"Seven thirty for eight," said Mandor. "It may go on quite late—if you prefer not to return to the Queen, I daresay we can find a suitable guest suite for you—can we not?"

He glanced at Clytemnestra and—perhaps more surprisingly—Vikund.

"I'm sure the Chatelaine can make the necessary arrangements in short order," Vikund responded.

Petra looked at Mandor with an amused smirk before remarking. "That is hardly necessary. I am, afterall, quite used to being up all night. I am still working while the rest of you are off in dreamland, remember. It is no problem for me to trump home at the end of the evening. But thank you for your consideration."

"It was my pleasure," he answered politely, and returned to his tea.

As Petra and Mandor talked, Helena surreptitiously studied her sister as she looked over the papers Vikund brought.

A few minutes later, Petra set her tea things on the table and rose gracefully from her seat. "If I am to make it to dinner, I must go," she said with a smile. "Ladies, it was a pleasure to meet you all. Mandor, thank you for your gracious invitation." She glanced at Vikund. "Mr. Anansi..."

Helena nodded. "Likewise, of course."

Amba nodded politely to Petra.

"Ms. Rossi," Vikund answered, Rising from his seat to offer a courteous bow.

Petra swept out of the cozy little room to find a quiet spot from which to Trump back to the ship.

Vikund's eyes followed her out, then settled on Helena as she watched her sister.

Helena, perhaps feeling the weight of his gaze, turned her attention to Vikund. She looked at him with frank appraisal over the rim of her teacup.

Vikund smiled pleasantly and reached for the teapot. "Top up, anyone?" He inquired.

"Thank you, but I'm good," Helena replied as she set down her cup. "Have you ever visited Chaos, Vikund?"

Amba shook her head, observing Vikund as she awaited his answer.

Vikund looked quizzically at Amba, teapot poised, as he answered Helena's question. "No, I haven't," he said, "but I'm sure it will survive well enough without me. It would be nice to visit my long-lost relatives, one day."

Vikund's inquiring gaze settled on [Amba] a fraction longer than idle curiosity could account for, then he poured a cup for himself.

"Indeed. I suppose you could say that's what I'm doing here myself—visiting long-lost relatives," Helena mused idly. She sat back in her chair, her expression introspective.

"Indeed," Vikund said. "If one goes back far enough, I suppose all we came from the same primordial soup," he chuckled. "I'm sure it would be a full time task if you really wanted to map out both root and branch of the extended family."

"Amba and I have contact with House Barimen in the Courts and we know a couple of the cousins quite well. They're very pleasant people, worth visiting should you ever get down that way."

"That I shall do," Vikund said, "providing you promise to be my tour guide. I'm sure the Courts are quite daunting for the uninitiated."

"I'm sure Amba and I could show you a ripping time," Helena replied, smiling impishly. She then swallowed the smile, as if it was somehow at odds with her formal attire and the occasion, and looked to Mandor and Clytemnestra.

At this moment, a discreet footman entered, and made his way to where Vikund was sitting. He looked at Mandor, as though seeking permission to speak; Mandor acknowledged this with a wave. The footman bowed forward, addressing Vikund—but his words audible to others in the room.

"A messenger has come from the docks, Sir. There seems to be some fresh trouble there."

"I thought there might be," Vikund sighed. "Thank you," he said to the messenger.

He took a sip of his tea before setting down his cup. "Please excuse me," [Vikund] said, before taking his leave.

Amba looked towards Helena, then after Vikund, shrugging.

Helena returned the look, then glanced hopefully at Mandor.

Cly smiled to herself before closing her folder. "Fresh trouble?" she asked Mandor.

"Apparently," he said. "But not important enough to ruffle the even tenor of our day, or Vikund would have mentioned it. Perhaps, Helena, you and Amba might like a stroll in the gardens before dinner? I have a little surprise for you on the lower terrace...something I've been working on."

Well, it wasn't a trip to the docks to see all the excitement, but it was an excuse to end the tea. "That sounds lovely," Helena replied, standing and smiling. "Amba? Are you up for a walk?"

Even as she asked, Amba was already standing at her side. "Yes, I believe I am," she answered.

Helena turned back to Mandor and her sister. "Can one of you be so kind as to point us in the right direction to find the gardens?"

"Or perhaps one of us could escort you there," Cly said.

Helena smiled at her brightly. "That would work."

Mandor smiled. "Then, perhaps, Clytemnestra, you would be sure to take them to the old walled tennis courts."

He rose. "And I must leave you, I am afraid, until dinner time."

"Until dinner, then. Thank you," Helena said to Mandor, then turned expectantly to Clytemnestra and Amba.

"Thank you," Amba echoed before turning to follow Helena's sister.

Cly smiled, rose, and led the other two out. She didn't bother to pay any kind of respect to Mandor on the way out; merely sighed as they moved into the hall and out of earshot.

"I normally like formal occasions, but this one..." she said.

"What was unsettling about this one?" Helena asked.

Amba caught Helena's eye as her friend asked the exact question that was on her lips, and then turned to Clytemnestra to see her reply.

Cly's smile was somewhat mysterious. "Closer proximity to Father," she said.

Helena didn't reply, but did shoot a look with raised eyebrows at Amba.

Amba caught the look, and shrugged surreptitiously.

She led them outside, past an amazing number of different gardens, until they could see ivy-covered walls in the near distance.

"Now, here's a place I haven't been in a while," she said. "Tennis was really never my game."

"Do you know what Man—, um, I mean Father is planning?" It was ostensibly a question about the surprise on the tennis courts, but at the same time could encompass a much larger scheme. Helena left it vague, wondering how Ness would answer.

Cly shook her head. "It could be anything," she said. "Father does love his little surprises."

"You sound like you don't get along with him very well?" Helena ventured.

They were close to the old tennis courts now—and they looked as though the had had a fresh coat of paint...

Cly looked at Helena. "I guess he wouldn't have told you. And no one else would have, you haven't been here long enough. Father and I had...a falling out."

"A falling out," Helena repeated. "May I ask over what?"

The perfect smile faltered for just a split-second. "He... it doesn't matter," she said. "We just find now that things are more bearable when we stay out of each other's way."

The return look Helena gave her was part exasperated—she hadn't seen Ness in twenty-odd years and within the first hour or so Ness was already shutting her out—and part stubborn, which promised that she would return to the topic at hand sometime in the future.

"Did you grow up here, in Amber?" Helena asked, changing the subject.

"Only the last few years," Cly said, sounding a little relieved. "I grew up in one of the Golden Circle shadows—a place with sun and sand and islands and perfect water...it's beautiful."

"I would like to see it. Perhaps you'll take us there sometime," Helena said, including Amba in the "us". "Mandor was here running things in Amber, wasn't he? So who looked after you?"

"I had people looking after me," Cly said, "but I was in little danger. There were all the worshipers, you see."

"Worshipers?" Helena repeated. "I didn't think...oh, worshiping the Unicorn?"

"No, me," Clytemnestra said. "I am Love."

Amba raised one eyebrow and looked from Helena to Cly. She started to say something, but then decided against it, holding quiet.

"You are Love? What does that mean?" Helena asked.

"I accepted the mantle of the Goddess of Love, dear Lena," Cly said. "In Aegea, the people worship many gods...and when I am there, I take on her Aspect."

In response to this statement—especially the matter-of-fact way that Helena's sister said it—Amba raised both eyebrows in some surprise, if not alarm.

"Is this the case of some shadow believing that you are a goddess, so you just conveniently say yes?" [Amba] asked.

Cly's smile had returned, radiant. "It's a bit more complicated than that," she said. "I am Pandemos and Ourania... the love of the body and the love of the spirit. I am the embodiment of love and lust and beauty...the pleasures of sex, the euphoria of accomplishment, the blush of first-found love...when I walk among them, the mortals of Aegea, these are the gifts I give to them. I take on the Aspect, and the message of Love is the Attribute that I wield." She stretched out a hand to Amba. "Do you wish to see?"

Amba's glance flitted to Helena.

Helena's expression was bemused and acquiescent.

[Amba] looked back to Cly. "Sure," she said. "Why not." And she stretched forward her hand to Helena's sister.

Cly hesitated, then took Amba's hand in hers. Her hand was warm and inviting, and from her posture she acted like they had been holding hands for years. Amba felt a tingle at the back of her mind.

"Relax," Clytemnestra said. "Let yourself go. Think of good thoughts..." She moved closer, until they were almost touching. "Let me show you."

It was a tickle at first, a mild feeling of euphoria. Walks along a beach at sunset, the thrill of the hunt, the pleasure of winning a sword-dance, the electrifying feel of an ice cube against skin, the feeling of accomplishment, the first sultry feelings of attraction and lust...

...and then, unexpectedly, a mind-shattering, reality-warping orgasm.

And when the tremors and trembling began to subside, and Amba began to remember that there were other things in the universe besides herself, she could feel that Cly had pressed against her, an arm around her waist, holding her up.

"That is what I give them," she whispered, close to Amba's ear. "Love. Lust. Pleasure. Everything."

"Amba?" She heard Helena say from somewhere nearby, concern evident in her tone.

"Wow. Just...wow," Amba said breathily. "I'm fine," she assured Helena. "I just ... need a minute."

"Mmm," Cly agreed, a small, satisfied sound to go with the half-smile on her face. She stopped holding Amba up, but left an arm around her waist.

"I have changed, a little," she said to Helena. "Everyone does. I'd like to think it was for the better."

Helena narrowed her eyes. She recognized that expression on Amba's face, knew what caused it... "Ness, what changed you? How did you come to acquire that...unusual...talent?"

"It just happened, over time," Cly said with a little shrug. "I developed it."

Which was really no answer at all; It was clear from Helena's unguarded expression that's what she was thinking. She smiled suddenly, the previous expression gone. "I'd like to continue on. I'm curious to see what surprise is down here at the tennis courts."

There were some open tennis courts on one of the lower terraces, but there was also a solid brick building that housed the old Royal Tennis courts. The door to this was invitingly ajar...

It was the custom, in Chaos, for nobles who were much addicted to Sword Dancing, to construct miniature courts within their own Ways, the squares smaller in size, and often fantastically decorated and chased with ornamentation, so that the courts became, as well as a practical area, a thing of beauty and even, on some occasions, High Art. Even the bridges and galleries that soared above for spectators would become things to gasp at with awe and wonder.

Helena and Amba had, from time to time, used such private courts. A few were very good indeed; many were so rich with their owners' pretensions that it became almost impossible to stage a sword dance there at all.

But this...was the most perfect Sword Dance court in miniature that either of them had ever seen. Nothing was fantastical; everything was balanced and beautiful. Richly inlaid woods, tastefully chased with precious metals. But the squares...the core of the dance...there was something about the perfection of their glimmer that seemed guaranteed to make any sword dancer long to use them at once.

It looked as much a part of Amber as the ancient throne room itself, although Clytemnestra knew it hadn't been there last week.

Cly looked slightly confused. "Is this some kind of...workout place?" she asked.

Helena let out the breath she'd been holding and glanced at her sister. "It's a Sword Dancing court," she replied in answer, turning her attention back to the wonderful design. "Do you not have Sword Dancing in Amber? Amba, look at the detail...is it not spectacular?"

"Indeed it is," Amba said, a little more speculatively, putting away her instincts to approach it. She looked askance at Cly. "You didn't know this was here? Have you never been to this part of the castle before?"

"I have," Cly said, "though until very recently I played tennis here. A bit less," she waved her arm, "crowded."

"So Mandor had this created just recently just for our arrival?" Helena confirmed. "That's almost embarrassing, all he's done," she muttered, looking around.

Amba raised one eyebrow looking with interest at Helena's reaction. But she said nothing on that rather saying, "Well, he has done it, and it does call to be used. Shall we?"

Helena turned to her friend and laughed. "In these dresses? And aren't we suppose to be at a formal dinner soon?"

"I'm sure something could be arranged. That is...if you want to?" [Amba] said. "Or not..." she added looking at Helena curiously.

Helena gave Amba a significant look, realizing she was being baited, though the corner of her mouth curved up in a smile. She turned to Ness and raised her eyebrows in question.

Clytemnestra looked positively scandalized. "Here? Now? "Not in these, you're not." She raised an eyebrow. "If you were to take them off, yes, but the time..."

"Sword dancing in the nude? Sounds like something that pervert Lord Niran would want us to do," Solange smiled, teasing her sister. She looked at Amba significantly again. "If we're to try this out now, we'll need appropriate clothing."

"Spoilsport," Amba said, smirking. "I suppose we'll just have to wait...unless Lord Mandor was thoughtful enough to provide a dressing room with convenient changes of clothing...he seems to have thought of everything else. Perhaps the other side?"

"Lead on," Helena gestured to Amba, then linked her arm through Ness's. "C'mon, sister, let us introduce you firsthand to the fine art of sword dancing."

"If we hurry," Cly said, then added, "and I want to learn this...why?"

"Because it's fun and educational and something Amba and I have built somewhat of a name for ourselves in back in the Courts," Helena replied, grinning. "You don't have to participate if you don't want to."

"Why not?" Cly said. "But...with no judges or anything, not knowing the routines, no music, this would be very confusing."

"We won't play an actual game. We'll just spar. What's your favorite weapon?" Helena asked Clytemnestra.

Cly had the grace to look shocked—but it was quickly overcome by a slightly crooked smile. "Nothing that would be used in this sword-dancing, I'm sure," she said. "How about just something to parry with? Jitte or sai or jo sticks, that would be my speed. Um, you understand, if I break a nail right before dinner, I'm going to be very, very grumpy."

Helena laughed out loud and impulsively kissed Ness on the cheek.

"Nothing that would be used?" Amba said curiously. "And what would that cover?"

"Weapons that you might find in the bedroom," Cly said. "They don't last forever, you know." She smiled.

"Oh," Amba said, thinking. Then after a moment she said, "OH!", flushing as she realized what Clytemnestra meant.

She was saved from further embarrassment as she saw the dressing room, and hastily pointed that out. "See! I knew if he thought enough to put in the court, he wouldn't forget something like that."

Cly seemed perfectly happy to hang back a moment and see how the others would get ready. Her brow creased in worry over the formal dresses.

There was an ample dressing room. Unlike a Chaosian room of similar function, this was divided slightly more than halfway down the room by a heavy wooden screen, stretching up to the ceiling. Unlike Chaos, in Amber it seemed considerable importance was attached to modesty between the different genders.

There were a good range of new practice clothes available, with no house distinction. They were quite plain.

"Perfect," Helena intoned as she picked up a white uniform likely to fit. Mindful of Ness watching, she shed her formal dress carefully and hung it up afterwards.

The practice uniform she'd picked was a bit large, but Helena didn't seem to mind. She tossed one the same size to her sister. "You can wear this if you'd like to join us."

Amba followed suit, though the uniform she picked was a bit more her size, fitting almost like a second skin. That done, she moved to the other end of the facility having seen a curious flash of light as they entered. There, hung in order very carefully, was an array of weapons of the highest quality. She first looked at the blades that were there, fascinated with the quality of the forging. But after a moment, she picked out three paired sets of jo sticks before making her way back to where the twins were finishing.

"Shall these be suitable?"

Helena nodded. "Works for me." She looked at her sister.

Cly was hesitant taking them, but nodded. "These should do." She disrobed then, with none of the hesitation she had from taking the weapons, and smiled before shrugging the uniform on.

Helena's attitude toward the impromptu session was informal and easygoing, and she put forth effort to draw Ness out and assess her weapon skill without seeming overbearing. She happily demonstrated key aspects of sword dancing to Ness, explaining further only if prompted. Toward the end of the session Helena made a point to free spar with Amba, choosing the staff because she knew was one of Amba's favorite weapons.

It was easy to lose oneself in sparring. The mind clouded at the edges, obscuring matters that did not pertain, leaving only the opponent in sharp focus. It was this state that Helena craved, wanting not only to alleviate the accumulated tension between her shoulder blades, but also forget the nagging feeling of apprehension in her belly.

In many ways sparring with Amba was like sparring with herself—they were both evenly matched and knew each other's mind through long hours of shared practice. It was a partnered dance, giving energy away, the other receiving it, then returning it again. Footwork, bearing, execution of movements, all aspects were controlled and precise—neither woman feared smashed fingers or toes from the other—and pleasing to watch.

As they stopped for a rest, Amba smiled at Helena and Cly, then took in a deep breath, slowing her heart rate. "I could get used to this," she said cheerfully. "Another round?" she queried.

"Yes!" Helena agreed before Ness could say anything. "Sword this time?"

"Sure!" Amba said, dashing back towards the weapons rack. "Long or short," she called over her shoulder looking at the weapons arrayed before her.

"Long," Helena called after her. She shot a smile in Ness's direction.

Clytemnestra was looking a little worried.

"Nell...we really should be making our way back to your apartments now. It would not be seemly to be late at a dinner that is, in effect, being held in your honour..."

Amba sighed. "She's probably right, you know," she said, looking to Helena.

Helena smiled ruefully. "I suppose you're both right. All right. Are we changing back into the dresses we came in?"

Clytemnestra almost managed to repress a little shudder. "Flora," she said pointedly, "has already seen those."

"Oh," Helena replied in a small voice, swallowing a different smile. "Then I suppose you should lead us back now, Ness."

"And," Amba added, "I guess we'd better hurry?"

"Yes," said Clytemnestra. "Here - let's us my trump."

(continued in Before Dinner in the Star Chamber Clytemnestra Helena Amba)