HomeAtLastIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Home at Last Islain trumped through to her darkened apartments, dagger in hand. She made a careful sweep of the opulent, though oddly immaculate quarters, taking good care to ensure that she was alone in them, and that neither of her traps had been set off in her absence. Once this was established to her satisfaction, she replaced the knife in its sheath and moved to the bathroom, where she lit a lamp and finished drying off, replacing the damp white dress with a fitted nightdress of tea rose accented in palest spring green. It made her look young, and that almost was worth a laugh, but not quite. Something had happened that evening, that was certain, and it irked her not to know. But she blew out the lamp in the bathroom, and both literally and figuratively in the dark went to pour herself a glass of brandy and sit and think for a moment. She had just finished when she felt the niggling of a trump call. Islain sighed, threw back the brandy and took the call, arranging herself so she looked like she'd just gotten out of bed. Islain's eyes widened. So that was what had been bothering her about the moonlight. She rose. "Very well, I will join him momentarily. I take by the urgency of your summons that the Duke has not been incapacitated. Which means..." She shook off the sinking tide of worry. Moire knew about Helgram's plans. She would be prepared for his coming - and there was nothing Islain could do about it until she'd seen Merlin and gotten up to speed. "Is there anything else, Flora?" But the gears were already turning - part of her brain thinking of defenses and alerts and ways to kill those with power you don't understand, and the other part was thinking of colors and fabrics and how calculated she was willing to look. "No," said Flora. "Unless ... have you seen Larissa since dinner?" Islain shook her head. "No, I haven't. We haven't been... close... since the Chaosian takeover. Have you not been able to contact her?" Butter would not melt. "Not yet," said Flora. "I suggest you make your way to my rooms as soon as possible." The connection was severed. Islain did almost exactly as she'd been bidden. She threw on a morning dress- blue and in no way either more covering or more elaborate than the nightdress, but there were proprieties to observe, after all, even if her often Rebman sensibilities laughed at them. She wanted to look as if she'd taken no pains with her appearance, and all pains with haste. But that didn't mean she didn't carefully tousle her hair for a more attractive tangle round her face, and it didn't mean she'd take off her knives. She and Merlin weren't that stage of a relationship. Then she was quickly down the hall to Flora's rooms. "His Majesty wishes to see me," she told the guard, dropping easily into an air of understated command. She saw Merlin within the room, staring hard at a trump he was clearly attempting to activate, utterly focused on his task. Away to one side, half-lost in shadows, she saw the Doctor who had been at the dinner, Dr Delluth Corrino. He wore the abstracted expression of one engaged on a trump call. Closer to the door, she saw Morgan, talking to a Chaosian soldier, a footman hovering near. (Islain continues in Government from Flora's Chambers) |
