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Dinner in Amber Flora

At last, everyone was seated. At the moment, there was an empty place next to Mandor, where Solitaire, Baronness Helgram, should have been sitting. Mandor glanced at Damien, and then smiled faintly.

Then he rose to his feet.

"On this most auspicious of days, when we have seen the arrival of new friends and family from Chaos, when we have have our lives well-nigh miraculously preserved from murderous attack, let us give pause for a moment to give thanks - no matter what our deities - for our presence here this evening."

He smiled around the table.

Flora looked the model of pious devotion as she lowered her eyes. Bleys shifted in his chair and sighed faintly. Merlin stared straight ahead, a muscle jumping in his cheek.

The Kashfan Ambassador, after a searching glance at those nearest to him, inclined his aristocratic head in a display of humility. Paloma's was already bowed, her expression every bit as devout as Flora's. The Begman Ambassador lowered her head, and then peeped up mischievously through her long dark eyelashes, so strong a contrast with her fair hair.

A minute's silence - and then Mandor signaled with his right hand. The servitors moved forward ti begin serving the first course ... a choice of open ravioli of king scallops with cucumber, fried ginger, and yellow pepper vinaigrette or a sweet potato and goat's cheese roulade, with smoked paprika aioli, or mache watermelon and radish salad with a honey and papaya dressing or pan fried foie gras with roast peach puree and toasted brioche.

Mandor selected the scallops, as did Bleys. Flora went for the salad, while Merlin signaled for the foie gras.

The Kashfan Ambassador, after some hesitation, went for salad. The Begman Ambassador exclaimed with delight at the scallops while Paloma watched what Merlin chose - and selected the same.

The Countess smiled and moved on in silence as they came to the large family dining room, whereupon she guided Delluth to the board that proclaimed where they would be seated.

Delluth contemplated the way Merlin had been surrounded by the new arrivals and heaved a purely mental sigh; then he gave Zhenechka a hand signal that would send the dog to sit quietly against the wall behind his master. "I do like wine almost as much as interesting questions," he told the Countess as they walked toward the table. "But a case? I believe you know I don't entertain, my lady."

"But perhaps," she said, with a faint smile, "you might find occasion to start."

And then she was seated and smiling at him as he moved away to his own seat.

Delluth chuckled, shaking his head. "First I'd have to move house," he said, settling himself. Having spoken to the two princesses earlier, he next looked across the table. "Good evening, Ingrey."

At this point, Jurt found himself in the dining room - where a large board near the entrance showed the seating arrangements.

Jurt took his seat well after the others had sat, smiling at Helena as he did and offering a nod to Morgan across the way. A few polite words to the Ambassador at his left and he settled in. He seemed a little concerned for Tasha, but his attention was quickly taken by Helena's discussion about her mother, even though he could only follow part of it.

Emilia Rodkonski, the Begman Ambassador smiled warmly at Jurt.

"I believe you have recently returned from Chaos," she said. "And how are things in Chaos?"

At the same time she managed to cast a glance across the table to where Islain and Morgan were sitting together.

Morgan winked at the Ambassador, then turned to Islain.

Seeing that Flora was speaking to the Chaosians on either side of her, Islain offered a smile to Delluth and Ingrey, and then turned her attention to Morgan.

Islain's presence was like a lodestone to Ingrey. Given Morgan's holding of her attention, however, to say nothing of the formidable and undeniable Florimel to truly hold his own conversation at the time, Ingrey gave a respectful nod to Islain in turn.

He followed this with nods to Morgan and the Begman Ambassador before returning his attention to Delluth and Florimel.

Her eyes twinkling with mischief she cocked her head to the side and said, "I suppose asking for your sign would be a bit gauche at such a gathering. Perhaps I shall stick to saying you have very beautiful eyes. My name is Islain, I don't think we've met."

There was a warning, just for an instant, in those catlike eyes, replacing the sparkle with a cold fire, and then it was gone, and she was extending an elegant and beringed hand.

Morgan took her hand in his and raised it for a kiss. "I've certainly heard of you," he answered. "And the stories do not begin to do you justice." He let go of her hand and smiled winningly. "As for my sign, it is 'Welcome!'"

Islain smiled warmly at his kiss and he could see for an instant that her eyes went very deep. "Stories of my beauty, I hope, and not... anything less pleasant," she laughed. "You've an excellent wit to match those excellent eyes - I think the placard said your name was Morgan? Is it Captain Morgan? If so, I've heard a good deal about you as well."

"I won't hope it's all good," he said. "In fact, I hope it makes me out as mad, bad and dangerous to know. I kind of think you'd prefer that."

Islain nodded in recognition of the fact she did in fact prefer that. "The alternative is so boring," she explained, twisting a loose strand of her hair around her finger. "I like to win, but not by default. A little danger makes the game more enjoyable."

As the first course came round, Islain took the foie gras. Her sister's arrival tightened her lips, and she watched disapprovingly for just a moment as Larissa read a book at the dinner table. Then she turned her attention back to Morgan.

"Yummy, isn't it?" he asked her, gesturing vaguely at the food.

"Oh, yes, it's extremely good. I haven't had foie gras in nearly fifty years. Would you care for a bite?" Islain's green eyes sparkled.

Morgan had taken a large helping of the scallops and another large helping of the watermelon and radish salad and was making inroads on them rapidly. But he nodded at Islain's offer and said, "I should adore a taste." His eyes sparkled back as they met hers.

Islain ate much more slowly and delicately, so she had no trouble loading her fork with foie gras and extending it toward Morgan's mouth.

As she was feeding him, she inexplicably slipped a little, so that she had to wipe a tiny errant bit of food from the corner of his lips and suck her finger clean.

He watched her, leaning ever so slightly towards her as she brought her finger to her lips. "Oh, yes," he said huskily. "Extremely good."

Turning from his brief attention to Morgan and Islain, Ingrey turned across the table at Delluth's mention of his name.

"Good evening Doctor." Ingrey replied to Delluth warmly, giving a nod of the head in respect. Before her attention was completely gone from the scene, Ingrey bobbed his head in the direction of the Countess Ambassador. "And a good evening to you as well, Ambassador. It's a pleasure to see you again."

Ingrey then turned as Florimel spoke.

"As you will see," said Flora to Ingrey and Delluth, "we have decided tonight on a varied menu of Amberite dishes rather than Chaosian delicacies. Nevertheless, I believe we have provided a sufficient variety to tempt even the most jaded of Chaosian appeites."

The soft note of underlying danger in her voice dared them to find it otherwise.

Delluth blinked at her in mild-mannered confusion. "Of course, your Highness," he said, without a trace of artifice. "Nothing you have a hand in could be less than perfect."

Ingrey gave a grazing nod of the head in agreement with Delluth's response to Florimel's challenge. He then turned his attention fully upon Flora.

"As for myself, your Highness, I look forward to what you have selected for tonight's meal with considered anticipation." Ingrey replied. He looked thoughtful, and then continued.

"Indeed, given that this is primarily a family dinner, politeness to the Embassy is sufficiently covered by the invitation to my superior, Paloma Baccaran, in being here. My own presence might be construed by some as supernumerary from a purely a political perspective. I conclude, then, that perhaps I was invited for reasons beyond the purely politically polite."

"Do I have you to thank, Highness, then, for the honor, privilege and joy of being invited as well?" Ingrey enquired with Florimel, with a trace of a smile.

Delluth looked interested in the question, having wondered about his own invitation as well.

Islain smiled, to all evidence enjoying the taste of the food very much. "And how are the scallops? I was tempted, but for me to order seafood did seem a bit... obvious."

"Delicate," he answered. "A taste to be savored. Subtle and powerful at the same time, a heady mixture of textures that are as much a sensation of touch as they are a flavor. I've always loved the treasures of the sea, but tonight they seem exceptionally enticing."

Islain's lips opened slightly, her breath coming a touch faster as she watches her friends and new acquaintances. "Sounds fantastic. May I have a bite, then?" Morgan smiled again, and deftly sliced a portion of a scallop, then slowly twirled it around on the plate to collect a light coating of dressing and seasonings, without looking. He held the fork our to Islain, not quite to her lips, so that she would have to lean slightly forward to take it into her mouth. His eyes never left hers.

Islain, too, did not break eye contact, her lips curving into a mysterious halfsmile as she bent toward him, lips parting for the taste. There was that about her body language, however, and her slow, effortless sensuality that said she knew they were drawing attention, and was thoroughly enjoying it.

"Mmm," she said, savoring the rich taste and delicate texture of the scallop. "Pure perfection."

Morgan let his eyes leave hers now, his gaze dropping to take in her cleavage as she bent towards him. Then he lifted his eyes to hers once more.

"Yes," he said. "Perfection indeed."

"While it is delightful to be seen as solely responsible for your presence here," said Flora, "to claim to be so would be just a smidgen mendacious. Lord Mandor, you see, felt it would be pleasant for our visitors for them to see a fair proportion of friendly Chaosian faces, and you two are among the most prominent Chaosians resident in the city, unless we chose to invite the generals of the occupying forces and, to be brutally frank, gentlemen, they are hardly to be described as entertaining. Engaging small talk has clearly never been a subject priority at the Chaosian Academy for Military Arts, which one must feel is a grave disadvantage."

Delluth put the last of his sampling of all the dishes on his plate and smiled. "Not all of them are that bad," he said. "And I understand this is not their favorite posting, and they're probably not in the best of moods about it, I'm afraid.

Ingrey gave an inclination of the head in agreement with Delluth's observation. He chose one of the delectable looking scallops, and sampled it as Delluth spoke.

"As it happens," he went on, "I'm slightly acquainted with Lady Helena already. Her fa - that is, her adoptive father, is a colleague of mine. So far I haven't had a chance to speak to her, however," he finished ruefully.

"As it so happens." Ingrey said in a tone of agreement. "I, too am passingly acquainted with Helena Barimen Ishtar. In fact, I am passingly acquainted with all three of the ladies of quality in question. None so much that they would call me a bosom friend, but certainly, Amba Heldt, whom I escorted to the dining room, found it favorable that I was a recognizable face for her."

He turned to Florimel and inclined his head. "Even if, as you say, our presence here is not entirely your choice and doing, Milady, I recognize your hand and consummate skill in matters, and thus give you the partial credit that you do deserve for the invitation."

"Wouldn't you agree, Delluth?" he looked over at the Doctor.

The Professor, whose attention had snagged on Islain's blatant flirtation with Morgan, blinked and mentally kicked himself. "Er, naturally," he said, wondering what he was agreeing with. His plate, he decided, was the safest object to concentrate on just now, but he couldn't help glancing at the already-on-edge Princess Flora.

Ingrey followed Delluth's eyes, and while, being seated next to Islain, he did not have full view of Islain's flirtation, he recognized the source of the Professor's focus. Ingrey quelled his own desire to watch and returned his attention to his hostess.

"Oh, I'm more than happy to accept the credit," said Flora. "If not for the notion, then for the selection. And clearly, as you are both eager to pursue your acquaintance with the young ladies, I could not have chosen more fortuitously." There was something of a purr of pleasure in her voice now.

Unsure of how any of their remarks could have conveyed eagerness, Delluth opted to say, "I don't know this third lady at all, but I suppose she is the one seated beside Prince Bleys?"

"That would be Tasha Minobee." Ingrey said, a trace of eagerness and interest in his voice that he could not completely dispel or quell. "Grand-niece of old Tarnaus, Head of House Minobee, actually." Ingrey said, trying to make his voice return to a more neutral tone.

Delluth looked at him curiously, but only said, "Minobee? Interesting." He reached for his wine glass, considering the ingenuous face of the girl who'd been hanging on Jurt's arm.

"Why would you say that, Professor?" asked Flora. "My study of the Chaosian High Houses has not perhaps been all it should be - do enlighten me. Or perhaps the Counsellor can instead ... "

Delluth lowered the glass. "Minobee, Ishtar, and Heldt - all of them very close to Hendrake. Of course, that's probably too obvious." He shrugged, self-deprecating. "I really shouldn't try to comment on a game I don't play."

"Sometimes the obvious is played for those who only see the complex." Ingrey replied. "Minobee is a Great House, even if small in number, and with a proud martial tradition. And as you say, good Doctor, Ishtar and Heldt have connections of their own to Hendrake, even if they are only vassals. All three Houses known for Martial abilities."

"It does make one wonder." Ingrey finished.

"Intriguing, Ambassador," Jurt admitted. "I fear that several of the vendettas between the Houses may erupt into full scale wars." He was picking at a salad that looked delicious, even if he seemed disinterested in it.

"But such troubles might upset delicate stomachs," he warned hiding the smile for a scant moment. "Like mine. Perhaps that's a topic for after dinner."

"And how are things in Begma?"

The Begman Ambassador's smile became a little brittle. "As ever," she said, "the demands of the Kashfans are excessive. In the old days we would, of course, have appealed to Amber for just but now ... " She shrugged. "The Old Alliance counts against us."

"I understand your position, Ambassador, perhaps more than you might understand," Jurt chuckled. "Anything in particular of late, or still the same demands?"

"I'm more familiar with Ishtar's expertise in medicine," the professor of medicine noted. "But of course, Lady Helena is certainly known for her martial abilities."

"So I believe," said Flora. "Have either of you been privileged enough to observing her ... ah ... dancing?"

"Oh, yes," Delluth said brightly. "She and Lady Amba are a sight to behold. They make it look easy, and have been climbing the rankings for cycles. Er, years. And still improving, they say."

Ingrey gave an unabashed nod of agreement, with a smile.

"I had the privilege of seeing them, once." Ingrey replied. "It was a couple of years ago, on the heels of doing some business on behalf of my House. I had actually met both of them during that visit." Ingrey said. "And when I heard they were having a match, I couldn't resist attending, incognito."

"I was not aware then." he nodded to Delluth. "just how long they were together as a team. But after they took apart a pair of dancers from House Ysarn, and seeing how they have come to Amber together, I can now well believe it."

A light shone in Ingrey's eyes with sudden realization.

He looked speculatively toward Flora. "If the Embassy were to sponsor an exhibition match in Sword Dancing, and they could be persuaded to participate, would you be interested in attending, Milady?"

"I am sure the Doctor needs no special incentive to wish to attend, if such a match could be arranged." Ingrey's eyes flickered to Delluth.

The professor frankly stared at him. "You know I don't follow Sword Dancing much, Ingrey," he said. "I do like to see things done well, though," he added to soften what almost sounded like reproof.

Ingrey blinked in surprise and gave a bow of his head to give himself time to compose himself. Inwardly, he bit his lip.

"Forgive me, my friend," he said, once he raised his eyes back to Delluth. "I unduly and sloppily conflated the level of your interest in the subject with that of your daughter's."

"Ah," Delluth said, mollified. "Understandable." He even smiled, and went on, "A demonstration match does sound like an interesting event."

The Begman Ambassador laughed.

"Begman demands, my lord? Or demands made upon Begma?"

A brief interruption occurred before Jurt could answer, as the footman removed their plates and served the next course - a delicious, delicately flavoured soup - a creme du Barry (a very delicate creamy cauliflower soup).

But once he had moved on, the Countess was still reagrding him as she awaited his answer, even as she took a sip of soup.

"Well, I was refering to the Kashfan demands on Begma that you alluded to, but if Begma or her Ambassador had any demands... or commands... that I might help fulfill, she would find me more than willing to listen," he answered as he finished his glass of wine and looked for another.

"Vegetables without flavor in creme. It's like white paint on a white canvas. Perhaps my tastes are just too crude for such dishes." He appraised the Ambassador with a thoughtful eye. "Or maybe too refined."

"Perhaps in Chaos you have learned to appreciate things that are a little more ... spicy," she suggested. "I wonder if you have ever tried our national dish. A special meat stew - on first taste it seems surprisingly innocuous. But then ... you feel it. Burning .... "

Jurt grinned that his banter was so well received. "I'd very much like to sample it sometime. Do you know someone skilled at preparing it?"

"It would be interesting," said Flora. "So many years since dear Deirdre used to delight us all with demonstrations of how deadly she was with her battleaxe. The gardeners used to get quite distressed with the damage to their delphiniums, I seem to recall. And, of course, there were archery competitions held quite often for myself and Llewella ... Fiona used to participate in those too ... and poor little Mirelle."

She appeared to consider. "But this would take place in the Embassy, you say? Not near the delphiniums?"

Before Ingrey could answer, a brief interruption occurred as the footman removed their plates and served the next course - a delicious, delicately flavoured soup - a creme du Barry (a very delicate creamy cauliflower soup).

"Thank you." Ingrey said to the footman. He didn't immediately try the soup, instead taking a sip of his glass before responding to Flora.

Unsure what to make of the Princess's words, Delluth tried the soup.

"Definitely not near the Delphiniums." Ingrey confirmed after a few moment's thought which was punctuated with a look of enlightenment on his face as a possible meaning to Flora's words came to him.

Ingrey gave a bow of the head. "Properly executed Sword Dancing requires an especially prepared space for it. I assure you, Milady, the Embassy is the best venue to hold such an exhibition."

He then took a spoonful of the soup and sampled it thoughtfully.

"Yes," Morgan said. "Perfection indeed."

There was a polite cough at their elbows.

The footman was waiting to remove their plates and serve the next coiurse - a delicious, delicately flavoured soup - a creme du Barry (a very delicate creamy cauliflower soup).

Morgan leaned back and allowed the footman to make the change. His gaze flickered lazily over the rest of the table before returning to Islain.

The Begman Ambassadress caught his eye and gave the faintest of smiles, raising one eyebrow as she did so. Merlin, by way of contrast. lifted a champagen glass - either as an invitation to drink, or in salute. Mandor alone of the rest seemed aware of Morgan's glance in his direction - and smiled.

Islain straightened, glancing down at her own cleavage with an amused smile. "Oh, I *do* like you," she purred.

Glancing forward for an instant, she ran a finger along her jawline. "There isn't much to do at these things besides network and gossip. I imagine that must get old for someone as charismatic as yourself."

"How delightful," said Flora. "And when do you propose this contest should take place?"

Ingrey took another spoonful of the soup, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Well, the matter would have to be breached with the principals and the space prepared. Two days, perhaps three, milady, if Helena Barimen-Ishtar and Amba Heldt can be persuaded to participate."

"As far as their opponents." Ingrey gave a brief smile. "I am owed a favor or two. That should be no trouble to arrange." He looked at Florimel. "Would that time frame be amenable to your schedule, Milady?"

"I'm sure that would be delightful," said Flora. "I think, however, you might wish to consult Lord Mandor before deciding in which opponent his daughter and her friend should face, don't you?"

Delluth looked up from his soup, first at Ingrey and then at Flora. "Only of one's goal was to seriously annoy the ladies, your Highness," he said as courteously as possible. "It's the competitor's privilege to accept or reject a challenge. As I distinctly remember my daughter telling me at great length." Ingrey gave a nod after taking a sip of his glass.

"Delluth has the right of it, milady. I would do far more harm than good in using Mandor as a clearinghouse for possible opponents." Ingrey said in an agreeing tone. "And if I were to select opponents based on Mandor's recommendations, perhaps opponents unworthy of the challenge, Helena Barimen-Ishtar and Amba Heldt would be most cross with me with wasting their time."

"And of course, you should speak to the ladies themselves before arranging anything," Delluth said cheerfully. "You may," he added, "rely on me to act as medic for this event. Do try to schedule it for an afternoon, if you can."

"Well, of course, I shall secure their agreement before anything moves forward." Ingrey agreed with Delluth.

"Hmmm," said Flora. "I am sure we can rely on you, Master Ingrey, to see that whoever you recruit has enough skill to present a serious challenge for the Lady Helena while, at the same time, being unlikely to be swayed by any passing feud in Chaos."

"I shall take great care in the arrangements." Ingrey said with a nod to Flora. "And perhaps the Chaosian delicacies offered during the match may please your palate to a tenth of the enjoyment that the courses here so far have pleased mine."

"Delightful," murmured Flora, with the rigid self-control of one who has spent a lifetimes diplomatically consuming (or evading) regional delicacies.

"I am delighted to say that we have a veritable expert at the Embassy," said the Ambassador with the most guileless of smiles. "Perhaps we could arrange a meal there. A small, private meal."

"I'm sure that something could be arranged," Jurt agreed as he lifted his glass for more champagne.

"So, were you fortunate enough to have missed this morning's excitement?" he asked with a casual glance toward his brother.

"Yes," said the Ambassadress. "Strange to relate, the Rambling Queen was not one of my regular haunts. Where you there? I don't recollect hearing your name mentioned."

"No, while I can admit to being familiar with the boat through my brother's influence, alas I was in Chaos, collecting our newest bevy of visitors." He nodded toward each of the ladies as he indicated them, "Lady Tasha Minobee, Lady Amba Helgram and Lady Helena Sawall-Ishtar."

Helena paused in her conversation with Merlin to turn around and gaze past Jurt to the Ambassadress. "Lady Helena *Barimen*-Ishtar," she corrected, her smile tight. "I'm sure Lord Jurt just unintentionally made a mistake."

Morgan laughed. "Flattery will get you anywhere you want to go," he said. "Yeah, these things can get boring if you let them. But I'm usually able to find something to do to liven them up. If all else fails, I can always stand in the middle of the table and juggle knives. Auntie Flo loves that."

Islain literally choked on her soup at "Auntie Flo."

"I would like to see you juggle knives. I used to be quite adept at that in my younger days, myself. So tell me, who should I watch out for? Who has the most venom at the table?"

"We're almost all capable of being pretty venomous, but then, you knew that." He smiles at her once again. "Damien. way up there at the other end, he's at the top of my sh!t list right now. Luring you lover into making an assassination attempt and then stabbing him in the back in the middle of it wins a prize, even in our family. Vic, he's another one to watch out for. He's made a career of toadying to Mandy, and he does it well. But there's a lot more to him than that, he's got twisty down to a fine art. I'd wager heavily that even he isn't sure when he's lying and when he's only prevaricating."

"Damien and Vikund. That's who... I expected most people would say," Islain nodded. "Though you are possibly overestimating Vikund's twists and underestimating his self-interest. What prize does Damien get for his efforts, I wonder? Most likely to be stabbed in his turn?" She tsked her tongue. "It was, on top of all you might say in disgust, as gauche as it was well-timed."

Morgan nodded, and had a bit more soup. "Far be it from me to decry murderous passion," he said. "But betrayal needs a certain style to come off well. Backstab-boy was simply tawdry. Never air your private linen if it isn't frilly."

Jurt grinned that his banter was so well received. "I'd very much like to sample it sometime. Do you know someone skilled at preparing it?"

"I am delighted to say that we have a veritable expert at the Embassy," said the Ambassador with the most guileless of smiles. "Perhaps we could arrange a meal there. A small, private meal."

"I'm sure that something could be arranged," Jurt agreed as he lifted his glass for more champagne.

"So, were you fortunate enough to have missed this morning's excitement?" he asked with a casual glance toward his brother.

"Yes," said the Ambassadress. "Strange to relate, the Rambling Queen was not one of my regular haunts. Where you there? I don't recollect hearing your name mentioned."

"My apologies," he offered with an almost sincere nod to Helena, before turning back to Emilia. "My niece chooses to user her mother's House-name, possibly prudent as Sawall and Ishtar are likely persuing vendetta at the moment."

"Is it prudent to spread rumors?" Helena retorts to Jurt, a warning in her voice as her eyes flick around the table, noting who might be listening to the conversation. "Nothing has been formally announced."

"True enough," the king's younger brother agreed. "But as a member of both famiilies I would think it might be something of a concern to you."

He hadn't drawn his attention away from the beautiful Begman at his left to answer Helena, but now offered her a small smile. "Personally I find it intriuging that you would so easily deliver yourself into the Sawall heir's hand when you might become the perfect hostage."

Again to Emilia, he offered an apologetic smile for the turn the conversation had taken. "Helena doesn't seem to understand that I'm her ally, ere my father believes I chose her mother's life over that of younger brother Despil's."

"I wouldn't know what to understand or not because you wouldn't tell me what happened--even though apparently _other_ people know about it," Helena said coldly, continuing despite talking to Jurt's back. "As for delivering myself into Sawall's hand, my father insisted I come and sent reinforcements to make sure I did, hence the presence of Lord Suhuy in the courtyard. Surely you remember all this? I know there have been women and shiny things to distract you, but it was only a few hours ago."

Jurt chuckled and turned back to face her, evidencing true amusement. "Your father was aware and I'm sure that if he wished you to have the details along with packing you off to someplace he considered safe, or at least safer, he could've shared with you. And an accomplished dancer like yourself might've asserted herself a little better if she wished to do something more than her father's bidding. Obviously not."

"I imagine he was busy attending to my mother after your father..." Helena trailed off, swallowing the rest of the sentence. "Well, at least one of us knows the meaning of familial respect and honor."

He leaned in and made a show of scanning the faces around the dinner table. "The details of your mother's trials are not something I'd share with a lady over a meal, but if *you* would like to hear it..."

Helena looked fixedly at him, her eyes smoldering.

He let the implication trail off as his gaze stopped at his brother abruptly.

Merlin was watching him sardonically. From the far end of the table, it seemed that Mandor had become aware of some flurry between his daughter and his brother.

"Perhaps we might discuss it later, amongst family." The last word was laced with perhaps more meanings than Jurt had intended.

Merlin's lip curled up in what could have been the faintest of smiles.

He turned back to Emilia with some sense of finality. "My apologies, Ambassador. As I alluded, some relations in Chaos are strained, moreso than even those here, but I suppose it's not suitable dinner conversation. We'll have to arrange another time to speak." His grin had returned when he added, "With some privacy, perhaps."

"That sounds quite delightful," said the Ambassador, who had been giving a more than reasonable portrayal of disinterest in all that had occurred. "Although I presume you might be a little pre-occupied later this evening, hmmm?"

Helena turned her attention back to her soup bowl and expelled a long breath, her hands in her lap twisting her linen napkin in frustration and agitation as she internally struggled to regain her center of calm.

When she looked up, she noticed her sister staring at her from down the table, a look of great consternation on her face.

Helena slipped Ness a smile to let her know that things were all right. Well, not really all right, but at least at a cease fire for the moment.

She directed her attention back to Merlin and said with forced lightness, "You were about to answer a question for me before I turned away and almost caused a scene that no doubt would have earned me the wrath of Aunt Flora--which, by the way, I hear is a terrible thing to behold."

"Dreadful," said Merlin promptly. "Almost as bad as my ... your father's. Which will doubtless happen unless we both allow the footman to take away our bowls and concentrate our attention on the delicious sea trout that is coming next. You see, precognition! Actually, I lie - Flora insisted I read the menu yesterday and somehow I seem to have committed it to memory. But it will be delicious - unless you're like Rissa and forswear all carrion flesh unless it comes with vat-grown authenticity. And then you'll have to remind me what your question was again."

Helena smiled wanly at Merlin and waved the question away. "Nevermind. It will keep. Though I wouldn't mind some more champagne now."