Dinner in Amber: MandorIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Dinner In Amber | Dinner in Amber Mandor 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. When the first course service was well underway, Larissa entered, in unornamented black and nose firmly planted in a book. She spared only the briefest glance for the seating chart before resuming her reading as she walked to her place, dragged her chair out with one hand while turning the page with the other, and sat. Servants placed a salad before her despite no visible signal, and Larissa began to eat one-handed, showing no sign of having noticed anyone else was in the room. Damien ordered the ravioli, but otherwise ignored Larissa's arrival. Chadwick offered her a hand with her salad as his own was placed before him. "It's so good to be surrounded by such wonderful people and family," he said. It was as though Chadwick hadn't spoken for all the reaction Larissa showed. He raised an eyebrow, looked about at the others, who seemed to have started their own conversations, and then back at Larissa. "I encountered a marvelous chocolatier today," he said. "Simply delightful." He ate some salad and raised an eyebrow to his cousin. She took a sip of wine and turned the page simultaneously. A sly grin spread across his face as he considered tickling her. He looked down the table toward his mother and then returned his attention quickly to Larissa. His fingers curled in preparation... Larissa maneuvered a chunk of watermelon to her mouth. His hands rocketed to her, hoping to catch her completely unaware! His fork clattered on his plate and fell to his lap as he did so. "May I help you, Chadwick?" Larissa asked, not looking up from her book. A most unsatisfactory reaction. She did not seem to be squirming at all. He withdrew, his grin fading as she failed to react as expected. "Good book," he asked. He raised an eyebrow to the Kashfan ambassador and indicated Larissa. 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). "No, not particularly," Larissa said after tasting her soup. Chad gave a little sigh and looked at the others, not showing any interest in his soup. Turning to another nearby lady, he smiled. "And how are you faring this fine day," he asked Amba. "How delightful," said Mandor genially, "to find so many of the family gathered around a single table." His voice seemed devoid of any irony. As if he had nothing to do with the assembled guests. Petra eyed the gathering and then smirked at Mandor while picking up her fork. "Yes. Delightful. That would be the word I was looking for." She then eyed her foie gras with mild suspicion before she started on it. "We are indeed blessed to be all here together under this roof," Vikund chimed in, "and all in one piece." He seemed little interested in the food on offer, but sampled a selection for form's sake. It would, after all, be a serious crime not to have some. Damien smiled back at Mandor, then took in Petra and Vikund in turn as each repllied. "Amber, it seems, is where we all truly belong," he replied to no one in particular. "A sagacious reflection," said Mandor. "It draws people ... from the far end of the universe. Might we not hope, my lady, that one day it will draw your father home?" Petra looked up from her plate to Mandor with open disbelief. She laughed -short and incredulous. "Are you serious? I would think he would be one of the //last// people you would want coming back to Amber. Assuming he is even still alive, I suspect he would be most unhappy with you, caro. I gather that is a bad place to find oneself - on the receiving end of his ire." "Are you so certain he disapproves, cousin? Have you been in touch?" Damien asked with a confident smile, and well-feigned interest. Petra smiled knowingly. "That was one of the stupidest things I have heard spoken," she observed mildly. "No doubt you have heard all manner of sage whisperings, cousin... but I speak of a rumor I have heard often spoken, albeit in hushed tones... that Prince Benedict found the love of a Helmaid of chaos, and has forsaken his life of constant militancy... for is he not also Merlin's antecedent? But, I shall not bore you with such procedings of bastardry..." Damien said with a different sort of smile as his eyes narrowed and he enjoyed his ravioli. Petra snorted, clearly amused as she rolled the stem of her wineglass between her thumb and forefinger. "I heard that ages ago. It still makes me laugh." She took a sip of her wine, wrinkled her nose slightly, and turned her attention to her dinner. The empty chair sitting to Vikund's left abruptly jerked away from the table, as if gripped by invisible hands. A moment later, Solitaire appeared from behind Mandor and moved to her seat without a sound or greeting. She gave a pleasant nod to Damien when she sat down, her eyes as cool as polished amethyst. Damien looked towards Tear soon after her chair moved, then as she sat he smiled and nodded in return. Mandor greeted Solitaire's arrival with a polite nod, but said to Petra, with seemingly unimpaired good humour, "I would advise you not to laugh at the notion in front of the King. He's proud to count his descent from Benedict." Petra smiled easily at the Prime Minister over the top of her wineglass. "Which is understandable. The reasons I find the idea amusing are cultural and strictly Cornaron. I am quite certain Merlin is aware of at least some of them. The notion of Benedict //in love// amuses me. That he would abandon Amber for it amuses me even more. I //do// read, Mandor." "Ah, but is not a desire for love... and peace... among the most powerful of our drives?" he asked as he arched his eyebrow at Tear, seemingly inviting her comment. Petra didn't look away from Mandor, but she did look more amused at Damien's comment. "That has not been my observation." Solitaire provided Damien with a veiled smile. "Love, perhaps," she said. "It drives us to do foolish things. Terrible things. And yet, wonderful things, as well. It can become our greatest strength. Or our ultimate weakness. "But the fact remains that these two concepts are discordant, Master Damien. While one loves, they shall never know peace. To desire both is imprudent at best." She unfurled her napkin and smoothly laid it upon her lap. The servitor moved forward to offer Solitaire her 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. Solitaire offered the servitor a polite smile. "The scallops, if you would," she said. Once the servant had left her, she turned her gaze back towards Damien, waiting. "That they are often in contrast does not diminish the fact that both impel us to action, Baroness, and it is right that they both do so... and while it is painful at times, there is no shame in exchanging one for the other... but some, some blest few, manage to find both. I find it not only the best explanation, but also the most hopeful one for my uncle," he replied before taking another sip of wine. Solitaire touched her chin with a delicate fingertip, considering this for a moment. Finally, she lifted her wine glass and tilted it slightly in a toast. "Then let us hope his heart is in gentle hands," she said in an earnest tone. She took a sip and then set the glass back down. Damien raised his own glass and smiled in return. With a tilt of her head, Solitaire offered Damien a pleasant smile. "You a far more engaging gentleman than the simple rogue I'd assumed you were, Master Damien," she said. Her violet eyes flickered with darkness as her gaze drifted over the other three diners closest to her. "But then again. It would appear that I've made quite a few erroneous assumptions of late." "Indeed... it would seem some misunderstand me completely," he said with a glance towards Petra and another smile. Petra scoffed, and it sounded almost good-natured. "And whose fault is that? 'Mr. I'll-just-sit-here-and-play-chess-all-night'?" "It was not my intention, at that time, to be unfaithful to the agreement I'd reached with my then-lover... and at that time, I was adverse to simply handing your staff a genetic sample with which to impregnate a small army of competition, or establish paternity at a time not of my choosing," Damien said as if he'd explained this a thousand times, which he most certainly had not. A wry grin formed on Solitaire's dark lips as the pair exchanged retorts. Otherwise, she sank back into her chair and fell quiet. Petra looked fully at him, an eyebrow curling upward. "Excusi? I think I'm insulted at what you're implying. I am certain Johann could have told you that we take precautions against that sort of thing. //Courtesans// do not work that way, Damien. At least, the ones I hire don't." She refrained from pointing out that Johann had no qualms about enjoying every amenity offered by the Queen when he visited." "As to questions of integrity, cousin, you can explain that to the folk your catspaws are extorting on the docks in your crass attempt to buy up the harbor," Damien said with a shake of his head and cluck of his tongue. She laughed. "Oh, that //is// rich. I'm offering them their lives back. Those contracts grieving widows are being tricked into signing while they're paying their last respects? //Those// are crass." "Yes, but aren't they yours... or yours?" he asked in all sincerity as he looked from Petra to Vikund. Vikund, if he heard the comment, did not react to it. The owner of the Ramblin' Queen sniffed indignantly. "If you think for a moment that those creatures are //mine// you have been paying even less attention then I imagined." Solitaire's lips formed into a thin smile, "Master Vikund has a great deal more experience in taking advantage of the innocent, I should think." She took a lazy sip from her wine. Petra shifted her gaze from Damien to Tear and the eyebrow that arched this time was faintly surprised. In an admiring way. She tilted her glass in a silent toast to the violet-eyed young woman and then turned an arch look back at Damien. Solitaire met Petra's gaze with a scientific curiosity; cold logic burning behind her shadow-filled eyes. The thin smile turned up slightly at the corners and she answered her elder's silent toast with one of her own. She continued to watch Petra carefully, as one might pay heed to the subtle movements of a predator. 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). Damien tasted his soup and smiled. "A delightful palate cleanser," he commented. Solitaire politely sampled the soup and nodded with approval. However, she appeared to have little appetite and soon pushed the half-eaten bowl away. The wine, however, held her interest and she had her glass refilled to the top. Her eyes returned to their cold observation of Petra. "So," she said through a veiled smile. "Whose idea was it?" She did not expound upon the question. Petra's a sharp woman. She caught on readily to what Tear was asking, and it didn't faze her at all. Her reply was in her eyes as they discretely flicked to Mandor just long enough for Tear to catch it. Solitaire's eyes flicker almost imperceptibly like Samhain candles caught in a sudden breeze. Then their connection is broken and she seeks her wine glass, as if nothing has been said. What she vocalized had absolutely nothing to do with the question. "I understand you appreciate rare books, Baroness. Perhaps I could interest you in joining me on a shopping trip one day. Sorcha is started to make those 'I need a new book' noises." "I was rather impressed with your collection," Solitaire admitted. "However, I did notice a few areas that could use some attention. I'd be more than happy to join you. I know several shops with uncommon delights hidden within. "How delightful," Petra smiled, looking genuinely pleased at this development. "We should compare notes. I daresay each of us know places the other has yet to discover." "I suspect we shall discover a great many things together," Solitaire smiled in return, the violet returning to her eyes. She took a sip of her wine before adding, "I look forward to our future exchange. "And please. Call me, Solitaire." Petra inclined her head slightly. "Grazie. I tend to forget people's titles more often then not as it is." "My title still. Takes some getting used to," Solitaire sighed, her cheeks coloring. "I'll grow into it I know. But until then. I would rather not fetter my life with such complications, just yet." Damien listened intently, then smiled sadly as he examined his wine glass. He too had eaten only about half of his soup, as once his palate was cleansed there was no point, and he absently pushed it to one side without looking at it as he spoke. "It is ironic, really..." he said as he glanced up at Tear. "Perspective, I mean. Some would go to great lengths for a title. For lack of one, it will be much easier to try and execute Johann tomorrow... and yet, it does carry its obligations," he said as he shook his head gently from side to side. As he spoke, Solitaire matched Damien's cheerless smile. She set her glass down and folded her hands on her lap. "Well. I think he'll meet his end for other reasons as well," she said. "But you are correct. Titles have allowed several members of your family to avoid such an end for transgressions far worse than bad aim. "It's a shame really. I wanted to speak with him. Foolish he might have been. But Johann appears to have been a talented fellow. There's much we could have learned from his research." She tilted her head with feline curiosity. "Unless it was you Master Damien. That created that most intriguing effect. The guns, I mean." "Ah, and here we come to my great shame..." Damien said as he took a long, almost meditative, sip of his wine. "I taught Johann what he knew... but obviously, certain lessons never took. I -am- privy to that research, though I won't be sharing it with anyone unless your Master bids it..." he said as he glanced to Mandor. "Which," said Mandor, "judging by the volitality of the majoritry of those seated around this table, seems somewhat unlikely. I may have my quirks, but wanton stupidity has rarely been seen as one of them." By all appearances, Petra was now ignoring the conversation in favor of her soup. Solitaire smiled sheepishly at Mandor, "Oh, Master, I don't think people hate you that much. Besides, I was simply curious about certain effects. Such information might cast further illumination upon my current research. It would be of benefit to the Crown, I think. But I shall defer to your better judgment." "Thank you," said Mandor politely. She took another sip from her wine and blinked in surprise as she found the glass empty again. She wrinkled her nose, hesitating. Finally, she gestured for a servant to refill the glass. "If you ever do get it to work, don't cut it with fine-grain sand," Damien said with a crooked smile and a twinkle in his eye. Mandor looked amused. Solitaire set her glass down and bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she blinked and leaned forward in her chair. "As plausible as an alchemical effect may be, Master Damien," she said, "I suspect there is something more to this intriguing creation. Considering the effects that have been described to me, it sounds more the product of a sorcerous manipulation. But secondhand information is woefully inaccurate at the best of times. So..." She leaned back and tugged on her ear, considering this further. Mandor regarded her with some amusement, before offering some bread rolls to Petra. Petra took one, and merely smiled her thanks. "It is difficult for me to comment unless I know what it is you were told," Damien said with a smile. "But, it is possible the Prime Minister took additional precautions of his own," he added with a shrug of indifference. Solitaire's smile thinned like spring ice, her hand falling to her lap. "True bullet wounds do not fade," she said. "And not even Prince Corwin could heal with such rapidity. Some other force appears to have been at work. Much like a focused bolt of mana, perhaps. Or Pattern Manipulation." She shrugged her narrow shoulders. "Simulating a firearm is actually quite possible. If you put your mind to it. Even within the constrictive paradigms of Amber. But if you accomplished this though alchemical means alone, I must say I am impressed." "Is it possible the man struck was a Shapeshifter of some kind?" Damien asked with an arched eyebrow. Solitaire shook her head and then bit her lip, as if traitorous thoughts had begun to betray her certainty. "No," she said. "I'm pretty certain he is a child of Amber." She opened her mouth to say something more and then paused. She tapped her chin and quirked her lips, perplexed. "I wonder..." she whispered, more to herself than her companions; her violet eyes seeking out Larissa at the opposite end of the table. Solitaire gave a prompt nod and a happy smile. "I suspect this requires further investigation. A most intriguing enigma, Master Damien. My thanks to you." Petra glanced over at Tear over the top of her water glass. "He is a young man of many talents, but he is not a shape-shifter," she offered with certainty. Solitaire's voice softened almost imperceptible; a wistfulness lurking behind the words. "Did you see the injury?" she said, her eyes flickering. "Tanstaafl told me there was blood. But. That he'd completely healed. Is this true?" "Si," Petra said simply. There was no point in hiding it. "He was bleeding when he left the docks with Morgan. He was as confused as the rest of us when he was completely healed shortly thereafter." Solitaire shifted uncomfortably in her chair, unable to hide her concern. But she said nothing more; falling into herself and silence. "Not shapeshifting," said Mandor musingly. "And not down to remarkable powers of regeneration either. Really, it seems to me that there can only be one other explanation ... " "Really?" Portia asked lightly, giving Mandor her undivided attention. "Just one? Do tell..." If Damien expected the answer would have something to do with him, he gave no sign. Solitaire raised a brow. "Indeed, only one?" she said, confused. "One might think a dramatic paradigm shift could do it, negating the damaging effects of the bullet. Indeed. A strong Pattern manipulation could erase the bullet itself. As if it never existed to begin with. I think." She tugged on her ear, considering this puzzle further. "What about you, Ambassador?" Vikund asked the lady at his side. "Is this where you belong?" Paloma smiled at him. "My superiors certainly seem to think so," she said. "For I have been Ambassador here now for twennty-five years. I would not have thought that you, Vikund Anansi, held to the belief that Chaosians do not belong in Amber." "Neatly reversed, Ambassador, but that is not the question I asked," Vikund smiled. "Don't pretend you do not have the influence to control your own destiny. I was wondering whether you had ambitions to root yourself more permenantly here. After all, most in your position would be feeling a little homesick by now. You, though, endure. That says something about your goals, does it not?" "Or those that my overlords and ladies in Chaos feel I am accomplishing, don't you think?" she responded. Then she smiled faintly. "After all, Vikund Anansi, some of us must be content to follow orders, must we not?" "Some more enthusiastically than others," Vikund smiled. "Your length of service is evidence enough of your devotion to duty. Overlords have elaborate schemes, it is true, but I usually find they are most potent when allied to the aims of the individual. I'm sure your superiors have been following your career most closely, Ambassador. I have been a little neglectful in that regard up until now, I'm ashamed to admit, but henceforth I shall be keeping an eye on your rising star. I'm sure you'll be burning brightly for some time to come." He raised his wine glass to her in silent toast and sampled the vintage. She raised an eyebrow slightly as Solitaire came into the room and took her seat. "Good evening, Baroness," Vikund said lightly. "I was beginning to fret you wouldn't be joining us for dinner. Princess Islain has been asking after you." Solitaire nodded to the Ambassador and then turned her gaze up toward Vikund. She regarded him dispassionately for a moment. "Then I will have to speak with her after the dinner," she said flatly. "See how she's enjoying my gift." "You are ongood terms with the Princess of Rebma?" asked Paloma. "How interesting ... I had not reallised." "It is not common knowledge, Ambassador," Solitaire explained. "We met briefly in Rebma. I found her rather engaging and we became friends of a sort. I recently sent her a gift, but we have not spoken since that evening in Rebma. Have you been introduced, as of yet?" Vikund reclined slightly to let the two ladies talk across him, while he listened with polite curiosity. "Not yet," said Paloma. "An omission that I hope to have rectified before the end of this evening." "Then if you will permit me, Ambassador," Solitaire smiled, "I shall make formal introductions later this evening." And with that said, a servant drew her attention away for the moment. "Thank you, Baronness," said Paloma, and then she continued to Vikund. "She's growing into a charming young woman, don't you think? A pity she knows so little of her other homeland." "She is a jewel, to be sure," Vikund answered. "I believe that her education into the ways of her 'other homeland' has been a little traumatic, but she has some new friends to help guide her, I understand, and no shortage of time." "Oh?" said Paloma. A brief interruption occurred as the footman removed their plates and serve the next course - a delicious, delicately flavoured soup - a creme du Barry (a very delicate creamy cauliflower soup). Once they were left alone to eat, Paloma said, "I was not aware that the Baronness had visited Chaos. But then, not all visits to either end of the universe are observed." There seemed to be a note of warning in her voice. "Well, I'm not going to spoil the tale by giving a second hand account," Vikund answered lightly. "I'm sure you will hear every detail in due course." "The Baroness will surely visit again soon; indeed, her affinity for the Logrus is such that it is never far from her thoughts, I believe," he continued. "Perhaps your Minister-Councillor can make some enquiries? It is always wise, I think, to test the waters politically before visiting courts as sophisticated as that of your homeland. The Baroness sometimes forgets she is not just a talented sorceress, but a titled lady of high standing." "And her family fortunes are in the ascendant at the moment," said Paloma, glancing along the table to where Tear sat next to Mandor, while she spoke across to Damien."Which makes one wonder ... several things." She smiled at Vikund. "You know her well, I believe." "Better than most," Vikund admitted. "How delightful!" said Paloma. "Although ... I have to wonder if her recent presence has anything to do with the sudden arrival of a prominent member of her House here." "The Baroness tends to keep clear of family politics," Vikund commented. "Which prominent member of her House are you referring to?" "Why," said Paloma, "Duke Helgram. Surely your sources of information haven't let you down, Lord Vikund?" "It doesn't do any harm to ask for a second opinion," Vikund smirked. "I've been at court long enough to know not to make any assumptions about who or what is bring referred to. I think the Duke's arrival has little to do with the Baroness' movements, but I could be wrong. I'm no expert on House politics." "I would count myself enough of an expert to be ... wary," said Paloma. "At least, I would if I were ... " She glanced up the table to where Merlin was sitting, deep in conversation with Helena and quite oblivious, and then down the table to where Mandor was sitting. "In a position of some power in Amber, shall we say," she finished. "Your concern is very touching, Ambassador," Vikund smiled. "I always advise caution in such circumstances, but there are those who would rather lead a life of risks and challenges. Far be it for me to stand in their way." "Now, if you were perchance to delegate a little more and press your case in person..." he mused. "Perhaps then reason would seem more appealing." "Perhaps," said Paloma. "If the inducement was sufficiently ... enticing." "That rather depends on one's palette, though, doesn't it?" Vikund said. "One lady's goose is another's gander... or somesuch." With that, he returned to the business of eating. |
