Coming to Amber: Tear"He wants to see you," said Uncle Grumpy, aware that Tear had entered the shop, even though his eyes necver lifted from the intricacies of the music box he was working on. "Today. Tea-time." There was no need for Uncle Grmpy to specify where, or who 'he' was. 'He' could only be one person. Mandor. Tear closed the shop's door behind her; briefly delighting in the new set of chimes her uncle had hung from it. "And good morning to you too, Uncle," she chuckled. The shop was a cornucopia of sights and sounds. Music boxes and clocks lined the walls, ticking and dancing in perfect mechanical harmony. A pleasant fire was burning in the hearth, easing the bite of the crisp, morning mountain air. The air smelled of mahogany and oils, a scent she had since grown to love. It smelled like: home. She walked over to his orderly workbench and leaned over slightly to place a delicate kiss on his stubbly cheek. "I've missed you," she put her small arms around him. "Me too," came a voice from the cloth sling on her back. The ears emerged first, followed by a pointed nose. "But can we please get me out of this thing?" Tear grinned and helped Tanstaafl from his carrier. He emerged with an exasperated sigh of relief, flicking and fluffy his tail. "I can't believe you humiliate me that way." "You were sleeping comfortably a moment ago," Tear sniffed. "And you said your joints were aching too much to walk." "Not the point at all, oh pale hairless one," Tanstaafl said, padding over to a comfortable chair by the fireplace. Tear sighed and touched her uncle's shoulder, "Did /he/ say anything about today's tea-time? I'm not really dressed for it." She'd put on a casual dress this morning; a purple gored overskirt, peasant blouse, and floppy hat. "You have some of mom's clothes upstairs, don't you?" Uncle Grumpy looked up and blinked at her. "If you wish. But you look perfectly dressed to me. Does Lord Mandor care what you wear?" Tear opened her mouth to protest, but then stopped. Her tugged on her ear thoughtfully. She'd always suspected the Master would continue to call on her even after completing her official schooling. But that didn't mean he could intimidate her any longer. Well, in truth it could, but for once she decided to make a statement; albeit a small one. She adjusted her felt hat and lifted her nose with an air of resolve. "You're quite right," she said. "I'm going to wear this and there's nothing he can do about it." "Except yell at you," Tanstaafl added. "Not helping." He turned around thrice as he settled into his favorite cushion. "Did I say I was?" Tear sighed and touched her uncle's shoulder, "I so wanted to spend the afternoon with you. I'm sorry, uncle." He patted her hand and smiled at her vaguely. "No matter, my dear. Lord Mandor is not to be denied. Now, run along and dress yourself in all your finery. It won't do to keep him waiting." "I swear I don't know how mother put up with all this activity," she said, kissing his cheek a last time. Tear rushed upstairs to her old room. After much cursing and clattered, she returned wearing a full-length chemise of black broadcloth and gored overskirt of burgundy brocade. She adjusted the side lacing on her Elizabethan corset and let out a faint gasp. After checking to make sure she actually had a bosomsnow, the young lady put on her floppy, felt green hat. "Hah!" she pronounced; highly proud of this act of fashion rebellion. "Can you watch over the fuzzy one, uncle? He's had his walkies and three éclairs, so he should sleep until I get back," she said, grabbing up her purse. "Or is he to come as well?" "I believe," said her Uncle, "that he is specifically included in the invitation." "Finally!" Tanstaafl chimed, perking his prodigious ears. "It's about time someone properly recognized my greatness." He stood up and stretched his back. "Well then, let's be about it shall we?" He gazed up at Tear expectantly. Tear sighed and got his leash. "You're walking this time," she said, putting the stylish collar around his neck. "And I swear if you go sneaking off to Lady Larissa's room again, I'll shave you bare." "Pah! The woman is infatuated with me," Tanstaafl said, hopping down off his chair and padding at her feet. "Who am I do deny her the joy of my presence?" "You just like her because she feeds you sweets." "You wound me, Short-Nosed One. It is her stimulating company that allures me so." He lifted his muzzle to the 'Question-Me-Not,' thus ending the debate. Tear smirked and leaned down to ruffle his fur. "We shall see you later, uncle," she said to Gilliam. "I love you." There was, by now, a carriage at the door. The duo walked out to the carriage and greeted the driver. After being helped into the cab, she placed Tanstaafl on her lap so he could hang his head out the window. Normally, she would take as much joy as he in watching the city go by on the way to the castle. But today she couldn't help but feel guilty about abandoning her uncle. She distracted herself during the trip by doing a series of Logrus equations in her head, losing herself in the cool comforts of logic rather than the unpleasantness of remorse. The carriage rattled through the streets and drew up outside the Castle. A footman was waiting for Tear; once she had disembarked from the carriage, he bowed her into the castle with becoming gravity. Tear gave him a soft smile for his unnecessary show of deference. She set Tanstaafl down and followed the flustered footman through the building. Everything in Castle Amber was always rushed; a key reason she visited as infrequently as possible. “Lord Mandor hopes that you will join him and his brother Jurt for tea in his office," said the footman, already ushering her rapidly along corridors. "Tea?" she asked. "I. Well, that's odd. He doesn't just have tea with me." She adjusted her floppy hat and pondered this strange divergence from her usual meetings with the Master. The additional presence of his brother further deepened the confusion. Mandor liked having her to himself; less embarrassing for him when he reduced her to tears with his insults. Tear allowed herself to be guided along without further comment until they arrived at their destination. The footman knocked at the door.
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