Jurt and Tear Meet Amba, Tasha, and HelenaIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | Jurt and Tear Meet Amba, Tasha, and Helena Dinner at Despil's
The man released the woman's hand and clasped Despil to him. He was of average human size and build. Strong shoulders like an athelete or warrior. He wore a pinked and slashed silver doublet over a black silk shirt. His black trousers were trimmed with matching silver knotwork. His hair was as dark as Despil's and when the apparently young man turned, he had bright blue eyes for his companion, his hand resting on the hilt of a silvered daggar in his belt. "Brother, may I introduce Lady Solitaire of House Helgram, Mandor's current student," he said with confidence. "Tear, this is my brother, Lord Despil, the last bastion of House Sawall in the Courts." Despil smiled thinly at the introduction. "And in my turn, may I introduce the Lady Helena Sawall, currently of House Ishtar, Amba of House Heldt and Lady Tasha Minobee of that House." He gestured, moving slightly so that Helena, Amba and Tasha saw the newcomers clearly for the first time—and Jurt and Tear saw the others. Helena rankled slightly at the name Despil gave her—she went by Barimen-Ishtar, not Sawall—but decided it would be at the very least impolitic to cause a scene under the current circumstances and at the very most premature to deny the name before knowing what advantages it offered. Her gaze reflexively took in Jurt's hand on his dagger before flicking up to his face, meeting those blue eyes briefly before travelling down to the young woman accompanying him—Mandor's student? In what? "Pleased to meet you both," Helena smiled, inclining her head politely. She wore a dark grey dress with a red underskirt, her accompanying jewelry rubies set in silver. Her blond hair twisted up off her bare shoulders and her light eyes were the same color as Mandor's one blue eye. Tasha bobbed in response to the introduction. She looked like she could be about 12 in a frilly party dress of white or was it very light pink taffita, her blond hair unadorned, no make-up on her pretty face, other than a slight touch of rouge to the cheeks and pink lip-gloss. The innocent, warm smile was real, as she said, "Nice to meet you." As for Amba, she stood placidly, observing the two arrivals. Dressed in a simple, but elegant black dress that covered one arm while exposing the other—and the intricate dragon tattoo sleeve that covered it. Her long black hair hung freely down her back, showing off both her platinum earrings and exotic asian features. She bowed slightly, lowering her eyes as she responded, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," before straightening, and continuing her appraisal of the pair. The man she could understand, but the woman looked like she felt as out of place as Amba herself did, making Amba wonder whether the look was genuine or calculated, especially from Mandor's reputation. She noted the titles of the others present, and wondered again at her presence—she was nobody compared to those assembled, and that knowledge made her very nervous, though she showed no outward signs of her distress. Tear appeared dumbfounded for a moment, startled by the sudden change in…everything, to be quite frank. Her violet eyes moved around the room nervously, taking in every detail, every face. Her lips moved soundlessly and she reached up to tug her ear. Things only got worse for her when she saw the other women present. Color flushed her cheeks as she gazed upon them; so beautiful, so regal. So completely better than her in every regard. What in the Serpent's name was she doing here; wherever that might be. She tugged her ear harshly to clear her thoughts and then smiled shyly. She curtsied to the gathering. "Sir. Ladies. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said. Timidly, she went to each, shaking their hands in turn. "Please, call me Solitaire." "Solitaire? Like the card game?" Tasha asked warmly as she shook the other girl's offered hand a bit awkwardly. She wasn't used to shaking hands, only curtsying and extending a hand, but that was to a man. This was quite unusual, but if that's how they did it in Amber, she'd have to remember to offer a handshake in the future. Tear's smiled bloomed beneath the shine of Tasha's friendly, yet awkward, nature. At least she wasn't the only one out of sorts here. "Yes," she said. "My father's favorite memory of my mother was watching her play solitaire at the window. And it just stuck I guess. At least that's what Uncle Gloomy says. Your name is quite pretty. Is it the short for Natasha or Natalie?" "Uncle Gloomy?" Tasha asked, surprised by the name enough to forget her manners, as she giggled, "Oh, and no, my name isn't short for anything. It just is...Tasha. Though, that does sound more glamorous, doesn't it? Natasha...?" Her bright blue eyes twinkled at the thought of being glamorous, like Amba and Helena. Their dresses practically oozed glamour and sophistication. "Oh really? Well, that's just as beautiful. The other meanings really depend on the originating language," Tear said, grinning brightly. "Most people really call me Tear. It's not so official sounding when you think about it. But, than again, this is my first really official function, so…" She paused and glanced over at the others. Her eyes went wide with horror as she realized she'd been prattling again. Tear moved in beside Tasha and fell into an abashed silence. Like her new friend, she felt suddenly out of place and inescapably plain. She smiled apologetically to Tasha and whispered, "Sorry." As she looked over at Helena, her eyebrow went up as if something about the woman's face stirred a memory. Then her eyes opened even wider, shining with a violet excitement. For her part, Helena's return gaze at Tear was curious and appraising. Jurt smiled at Tear and chuckled softly. "I'm sure that my brother didn't mean to exclude me, did you Despil?" He approached Helena first and took her hand and kissed it gently. "It is good to see you again, niece. It's been too many years." Helena curtsied and smiled gently in reply. "Uncle." To Amba he smiled and took her hand in turn, again the soft kiss on the back of the hand. "Lord Jurt Sawall, at your service," he offered. "And lastly, Lady Tasha, you look more lovely than ever." The bow was longer and the kiss fully realized on her hand, his grip warm and almost reluctant to release her. Tasha cocked her head to one side, her cheeks going exceedingly pink at the unexpected greeting, but as he raised his blue eyes up to meet hers she gasped, "I know... I mean... We've met." But how was that possible? He couldn't be the man she'd rescued from the forests on Darkmoore. That seemed like a lifetime ago standing here in Lord Despil's Ways. He didn't look exactly the way she recalled the stranger, but those eyes. "Haven't we?" "In Amber they suggest that all things are possible in Shadow, so perhaps," Jurt dodged, even as he turned back to Despil. "So, are we to be treated to dinner? All I've had all day are some eclairs and I've desiring something with a little more substance," he said. Tear took the opportunity while Tasha and Jurt spoke to cross over to Helena again. She shyly approached the beautiful woman and grinned warmly. "You must be Princess Clytemnestra's sister," she said. "It's been so long since I saw her. I was only ten at the time. So. I didn't recognize her. I mean you. At first. Is she well, do you know? She was very kind to me." Helena blinked. If there was one thing Solitaire could have said to unsettle her, this was it. "I...I am," she replied in a low voice. "We're twins. But I don't know how she is. I haven't seen her since...well, since we were very young. I'm glad she was kind to you." Tear's smile slightly faltered, but remained unaware of the cord she'd struck with Helena. The epitome of social perception, she continued the uncomfortable discussion. "Thank you. That's a shame you haven't seen her though. I guess you haven't been to Amber then? That's where I met her. One the same day I was introduced to court. She helped me adjust. If it wasn't for her, I think Master Mandor would have scared me to tears. He nearly did." Helena blinked again at the deluge of personal information about Tear involving the two people she was most nervous about seeing in Amber. What should she say? Her mind was a complete blank as she looked at the earnest young face in front of her. "Oh...I think someone said something about eclairs and dinner?" Helena asked hopefully, looking over toward Despil and Jurt. "Dinner," said Despil, "yes, certainly. Eclairs ... were not on the menu. But could certainly be added." He looked a little quizzically at his brother. Then he gestured towards the circular table that had been set up within the room. Each had name places and they found the order was: Despil, Tear, Tasha, Jurt, Helena, Amba and then Despil again. "Please," said Despil, "take your seats. The food is partly Chaosian and partly Amberite. We start with langoustine a la inferno, with a salad of monk's leaves and devil's cress. A simple spell will adjust the heat of the dish to your personal taste. Or I, having some experience, will be delighted to help." As they slipped into their seats, Helena whispered surreptitiously to Amba, "Are you all right? You've been very quiet." "Hmm?" Amba replied, absently, looking at the table. "No," she replied, then looking up she said, "Yes. I'm sorry. I'm fine. Just thinking. Wondering why I'm here," she said, matching Helena's tone. "I have some thoughts on that. We can talk afterwards if things haven't all been explained tonight and I'll regail you with my wild speculations, if you like." [Amba] "Are you ok? I didn't catch all of what the Baroness said, but I could tell that it struck home. Are you ok?" "I'm fine. Really. Just caught me off-guard. It won't happen again," Helena replied easily. She gave Amba a conspiratorial smile before returning her attention to the group at large. Tear sat down and smiled over at her host nervously. She'd never met Despil, but knew of him from his brother. At least, she knew he existed. Beyond that, he remained as much a mystery as Jurt. She found his gaze somewhat unnerving, so focused on the food instead. The exotic nature of the Chaosian food immediately intrigued her; as did the underlying concept of a heating spell, a formula already forming in her head. "Are spell formulas normally utilized with such a casual fashion here?" "No," said Despil. He smiled faintly. "You might see it as a chance for my guests to show off their different skills." His dark eyes were strangely like Mandor's in their positioning and the directness of the gaze—although different in the coloration. "Or, of course, their lack of skill." He smiled. "Or perhaps they are like my brother, who prefers things to be a little ... spicy." Tear sniffed faintly. He was testing her. The habit must run in the family. Younger, more handsome, but definitely of the same blood. No matter. Mandor had sent her here to prove herself. If a simple display of sorcery was required to do so, then so be it. She would not shirk away from his jibing challenge. She glanced over at the candles on the table, opening her senses to their incandescent construction. With surgical precision, her mind sliced the threads of each diffusion flame, pulling and stretching theirs essence until they were connected with the cool ceramics of her dinner plate. As the heat was siphoned off, the candle flames guttered and darkened until they were a ruddy orange and red. Once satisfied with the temperature of her food, Tear released the spell; causing all the candles to flash slightly as they returned to their normal white and yellow. Hardly six seconds had passed. She tasted the perfectly-warm food and nodded her approval. "My compliments to your chef, Lord Despil. Will we be staying long enough for me to converse with them? My… kitchen is sorely lacking the recipes of my homeland." "That seems a great shame," said Despil. "You must allow me to send a demon chef back with you. They really are the best, you know—even if their manner of preparing meat is sometimes a little messy." "How did you come to be in Amber?" Helena asked Tear. "Did you go specifically to be a student of my father's?" Tear leaned back in her chair, slightly startled by the suggestion. "I'm sorry. A what? But. But. That would be rather cruel to send it from its home wouldn't it? And my house isn't designed for keeping a demon. It'd be miserable." She set her fork down and shook her head. "No. Thank you, Lord Despil. It's a generous offer, but I will have to decline. It wouldn't be fair to the demon. Or Tanstaafl." "And why would that be?" asked Despil, continuing to eat his own meal with leisurely enjoyment. Tear returned to eating, but spoke only when her fork was down. "Well, Tanstaafl doesn't like company much. And with a demon in my little house? He'd be so stressed his fur would fall out. And he sheds enough to be quite frank, master Despil. "As for the demon. Well. They aren't well accepted in my section of Amber City. It would be selfish of me to take one from its home and place it in such an awkward environment." She shrugged her shoulders, offering an apologetic smile. "Your offer is very generous and appreciated. Perhaps when I go to my mother's Shadow. I'll need. Staff." She speared a piece of salad and ate it glumly. Despil nodded. "That can be less of a trial than you might expect," he said, "if you have the right adviser. But for the moment, perhaps you will let me make you a present of a Chaosian cookbook. "Believe me, the recipes almost cook themselves." Tear covered her smile with her napkin. Her eyes glittered with shy appreciation. "Thank you, master Despil," she said. "I would be forever grateful if you did so. As long as it isn't much trouble." She continued to watch him for a moment, covert and timid in her observation. Tasha had also taken a bite of her salad of monk's leaves and devil's cress, but had found that with her pallet adjusted for the langoustine a la inferno, the salad had little taste. She readjusted taking a small bite and appreciating the taste a bit more. While her mind was occupied with the conversations around her, she accidentally took a forkful of the langoustine. Her eyes began to water. Her tongue was on fire. She quickly turned her back on Jurt and the other ladies, trying to hide her discomfort. She gasped and began to wave her hand in front of her mouth, as tears began to run from her eyes. Her face turned a bright red, perhaps not all due to the heat of the food. Having looked away from her discomforting conversation with Despil, Tear immediately noticed Tasha's gastronomic distress. She could empathize due to her profound familiarity with that type of pain; mostly as the result of her own 'experimental' cooking. "Just breathe through your mouth, milady," she said, reaching over to pour Tasha some water. With a servant's finesse, she didn't spill a drop despite her haste. She placed the crystal goblet into Tasha's hands. "Drink slowly. You'll be okay." Tear looked up at Tasha and reached over to touch her shoulder in a sisterly fashion. Suddenly, even in Tasha's mouth, the sensation change—and was richly aromatic rather than spicy. The pain was relieved. Despil was watching her closely, as though measuring something—and Tear was reminded of Mandor, watching her in a particularly demanding class. Suddenly his gaze shifted to Tear herself, and he smiled slightly. Tear blinked and leaned back, keenly aware of the sorcerous resonance echoing in Tasha. A pleasurable shiver passed through her fingers. After the cold banality of Amber, the heady presence of magic here made her almost giddy. Her vocabulary simply lacked the words to express the feelings adequately. She turned her gaze back to Despil. Her eyebrow rose as she looked up at him. She wanted to ask him a hundred—no, a thousand—questions, but for the moment they would have to be foregone. Tasha was much recovered, and gave a greatful smile to Tear. In fact, she found she was delighted at the taste and took another tentative bite of the langoustine , her previously tear-filled blue eyes now opening wide in amazement. Not aware how it had been done, she asked Tear, "Did you do that?" Then she looked over at Despil who was watching them and she felt the heat of embarrassment rise in her cheeks again. "Oh!" She covered her mouth and felt the uncontrolled nervous giggles begin within. She tried to stifle them but they threatened to burst forth. She managed to gasp out, "Thank you, sir." Despil smiled. "Perhaps," he said, "thanks are not entirely due to me." "Me?" Tear said, startled out of her reverie. "No, no. I can only heal a person's pain. And that doesn't seem to be the case at the moment." She blushed brightly and looked away; thankful that Tasha's attentions turned to Despil. Her eyes went from person to person and then when no one was watching her, she stealthily removed a small red book from her sleeve. As the others talked, she jotted down a few notes. Being close to her, Tasha and Despil might hear her whisper the word 'Despil' before closing the book. Tasha glanced over as she saw the girl next to her writing something quickly in a book. "Is that for recipes? My Gram kept a book like that. She was always keeping notes on reactions people had to potions she made..." Tasha drifted off not sure if she were rambling again. Tear glanced up and blushed brightly. "Sorry," she said. "It's an old habit." With a shy smile, she flipped through the book. And flipped. And flipped. The impossible number of pages flickered by in a phantasmagoria of colorful text and images. "It's my notes on spells and people and thoughts," she explained. "And recipes, I suppose." She closed the small notebook and shrugged; as if this piece of magic was nothing out of the ordinary. Tasha was intrigued by the complexity of the sketches she saw within and found herself leaning over to have a better look. Her eyes blinked as she saw more and more pages flip past. How had she done that? "What an extraordinary little book!" Tasha murmured, and then wondered if she would ever be worthy of an entry into it. "Thank you, Tasha," Tear said proudly. She replaced the book in the folds of her dress and set her hands back upon her lap. As if she'd sensed Tasha's deeper interest, she hesitantly added, "Maybe. After we get a chance. You can tell me a little about your home?" "In light of Tasha's experience just now," Amba said with a sympathetic smile towards the other woman, "I would ask your assistance in moderating the spice of the dish," she asked Despil. "I've never been one to dally with fire—it's too serious an element for idle play." "Of course," said Despil. He reached out to where the candelabrum stood in the centre of the table, and ran one finger down the side of the smooth wax. "Try it now." Tasha watched as others around the table tasted the dish. It was much improved by whatever it was that Despil had done, in her opinion, and now she didn't have to be extra careful while going from the salad to the appetizer. She wondered what other surprises were in store for them that evening. Tasha listened to the menu wondering how hot was hot and if she could handle it. For the past few years her mother had been preparing her for just such a situation. She could hear her mother's voice counseling her on polite dinner conversation, while adjusting her pallet to accept interesting Chaosian delicacies. She couldn't recall having langoustine a la inferno before, so she decided to be on the safe side and adjust for the hottest food she could think of, carnitas conflagras, and hoped it would be enough so that she wouldn't embarrass herself... or her mother. She smiled at Tear as they sat down, but her host had engaged her in conversation, so Tasha turned to the man next to her, and again wondered if he could possibly be the same man she had come across in the woods back in the shadow in which she had grown up. "So, have you ever gone back to Darkmoore?" Tasha asked Jurt, and she added, not waiting for his answer, due to her nervousness, "I haven't since my parents recalled me to Chaos. I know that time there moves more rapidly than it does in Chaos, or at least differently, and I'm afraid that everyone I once knew would be...gone." She turned her bright blue eyes to regard his own, and offered a shy smile. "Well, I'm not sure that I've ever been to anyplace called Darkmoore," Jurt admitted. "But it's often true that when we return to something we knew that it's changed." "Perhaps for the better," he said as he turned and smiled at Helena. "It is the nature of Chaos... change." Helena raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. "Perhaps for the worse," Jurt shrugged even as his smile spread. "And I promise, the only difference in Order is that change makes no change." "That doesn't make sense," Helena remarked. "If change makes no change, then by definition it wasn't change in the first place." Amba frowned. "I would suppose that depends on the use of the word 'change'," she said hesitantly. "I mean, if you're talking about one change causing another, then that sentence would make sense, other than the fact that you would confuse your listener, and why anyone would want to do that seems stu... " She stopped, looking somewhat flustered. "Ummm... strange?" she finished at last, seeing that she had drawn attention to herself. She looked down, lapsing into silence. Tasha nodded in agreement with both Helena and Amba. She did not like being confused and made to feel a fool, as this version of Jurt, it that's what he were and not the man himself whom she had met a few years ago in Darkmoore, seemed to be trying to do. She studied him more carefully, as his attention was drawn to the ladies to his other side. He was still very cute, and she felt herself blushing at the thought. As Tasha listened to Amba's reply, she unconsciously cocked her head to the side, her blue eyes wide. Her quick mind began to follow the semi-logic of change in Amber not being change at all, and blurted out without preamble: "What if... Say you were walking in a city laid out in a grid, and all you took were right turns. Each turn would be a change, but eventually you would be back where you started... So was there any change?" "You're right, no net change," Helena admitted to Tasha. She gazed at Jurt over her fork. "Is that what you meant? What exactly did you mean by 'change makes no change'?" Jurt nodded, "Exactly." The first course finished, Despil made a signal, and soft-footed small demons appeared to bear it away. They soon replaced this with another dish ... Tasha's mouth watered at the aroma as the servers brought in the next course. "Tataki of Seared Bison Fillet with pickled wild mushroom & parsley salad, walnut & rosemary dressing," said Despil. "I trust you will all find it to you taste. It's wolf caught—I keep my own pack for hunting." His own pack? Tasha's eyes narrowed and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. But she schooled herself to react with only a smile. Wouldn't be good to get her hackles up over something as innocent as that. Tear smiled brightly and began sampling the food in small bites. She did not so much eat, as explore; studying the various flavors with an analytical fashion. Her head moved from side to side as she considered the meal, until finally she caught herself doing so. Color rose to her cheeks and her eyes darkened with embarrassment. For a moment, she struggled internally, trying to recall what Larissa had taught her about formal dinners and what to say. Formal niceties and chit-chat, her mentor had said. A thought came to mind and she quickly spoke it. "Thank you for extending such a courtesy to myself and Master Jurt, Lord Despil. This was a most unexpected honor." Hah, hah! That sounded appropriate enough. She gave her host a bright smile. Tasha wondered if she should say something as gracious as that, but didn't want it to sound like a 'me, too'. But she admired Tear for the attempt. "Where have you been coursing them, brother?" Jurt wondered. "All I hear about are the rigours of representing the House here in the Courts." His grin was joking. "When do you find the time?" "There are certain Shadows," said Despil. "Close at hand—it can become a sporting event with social possibilities. Believe me, I don't neglect the interests of our House. And a pack of wolves in full cry has a certain edge of ... danger, don't you think?" Jurt turns to Tasha. "I don't know. One supposes it depends on the wolf, wouldn't you think?" Tasha had just taken a mouthful of the wonderful meat, and taken completely by surprise at the question, she choked... Again. She recovered more quickly, however, as this time it was merely trying to swallow an unchewed mouthful. She managed to 'wolf' it down and stuttered out, "I... I am sure I wouldn't know, Sir." Even someone as socially oblivious as Tear could sense that her new friend was uncomfortable about the new line of conversation. And having dealt with Mandor for years, she recognized the family trait currently being displayed by the brothers. Covertly, she reached over beneath the table and patted Tasha's knee in empathy. Helena ate quietly, watching the two brothers tease Tasha with growing annoyance—couldn't they see she was uncomfortable? Was this polite and courtly? They were the ones that were like wolves, cornering their prey. "Solitaire," Helena asked, seeking to shift the conversation away from wolves and Tasha to give her a moment to recover, "what do you study with Mandor?" Tear's ears perked up, recognizing the opportunity for what it was. She smiled brightly at Helena. "Me? Well. Mostly Sorcery and the Logrus, Princess Helena," she said. "I've been studying with him since I went through the Dark Dream when I was ten. So. That's almost eleven years now. I'm afraid I've only just learned the basics of Elementalism and healing." She sighed faintly, hunching her shoulders. "He's a very patient mentor, your father. And wise. I just hope I can reach his expectations of me someday." Helena considered Solitaire's words, fascinated to hear an opinion of Mandor biased in the opposite direction from most of the other biased opinions of him she'd been privy to. "And what are his expectations of you?" she asked curiously. "Me? Well, to reach my full potential, I suppose," Tear said, tugging her ear nervously. "There was quite some fuss about me assaying the Logrus without having ever seen it before." She gave a pronounced shrug. "I guess that's special or something." Helena raised her eyebrows and gazed at the young woman over the rim of her wineglass. False modesty? Or genuine naivete? She wasn't sure yet, though it seemed unlikely to Helena that anyone could study with Mandor for almost eleven years and remain that naive. Perhaps she was striving to live up to her House's reputation. Helena thoughtfully took a drink of her wine. The young girl glanced away, "I don't know what his final goals for me are. He continues to set new levels for me all the time. Don't get me wrong; I'm willing to do anything Master Mandor asks of me. He was kind enough to train me. But now that I'm graduating from the university…" She paused for a moment, then corrected her self. "I think I have much to learn yet." "How did you assay the Logrus without having seen it?" Helena asked. "I can't imagine how that would be possible. Untraditional, to say the least." Tear just stared at Helena for a moment, suddenly very self-conscious. She glanced down at her food, playing at it with her fork. Regrettably, no portents or cosmic wisdoms could be found on the plate. Blushing darkly, she just shrugged again. "I don't know," she said. "I've never been to Chaos. Not ever. I just. Dreamt it one day. I think that's why everyone was so. Excited." She played with her food a little more. "Traditional is not something I've been accused of before. So. I guess you're right." If the girl was being immodest, she must have also been a classically trained actress, because her humility appeared utterly genuine. Amba had been quiet, observing, carefully sampling the food put in front of her. She didn't want to draw attention to herself— especially not the kind of attention that Tasha was garnering. But at the question that Helena asked Tear, she could not keep quiet. "So you've been studying the Logrus for ... years? Under Lord Mandor?" She looked at Tear with interest. "I'm sorry... you're just not what I imagined when I thought of Logrus Masters. So... what was the dream like?" Tear cringed slightly, having never been the center of attention before. It unnerved her tremendously. However, social challenges were like any other, she supposed; a task to be weathered and overcome. She smiled down the table at Amba. "Me? A master? No. I've only touched the outer boundaries of the Logrus. There is so much more for me to learn." She blushed deeply, stirring her food with her fork. She took a deep breath and continued. "The Dream. Well, I suspect it is like many others. Who are touched by the Logrus that is. I was very young at the time, so wasn't entire sure what the Dream was. I pictured snakes in my head. Tangled in Gordian Knot and very perturbed." Her smile brightens as she grows wistful. "They were so beautiful. And terrifying. All flame and darkness. Existing on some many levels. Wearing so many faces. I knew, as you do in dreams, that I needed to calm them. To be one with them. And to do so, I need to walk along their backs. It was as if I were walking along a vast road and a tightrope at the same time. I can't really describe the rush and fear it instilled in me. But…" Tear picked up her glass, "Once I'd befriended them, I understood the nature of the Logrus. I was lucky, I am told. Many people never wake up from the Dream." She sipped her water and looked away, timidity taking hold once more. Despil leaned forward. "More wine?" he asked, glancing around the table. Tasha eagerly accepted, having downed not only her water but her wine. "Please!" A demon-server was immediately at her elbow, offering her the wine. Though she preferred ale, she had been 'educated' on the etiquette of wine. She held her glass by the stem and swirled the liquid, noting the way the wine clung to the glass. Was it her imagination or did the wine actually make little pictures there? They were gone before she got a really good look at them, and she blinked a bit bewildered, shaking her head to clear her mind of such odd thoughts. She inhaled the fragrance before taking a sip, approvingly. "You have an excellent taste in wines, Lord Despil." "Indeed," Helena agreed, accepting more wine herself. "Tasha, I don't know much about House Minobee. What's your home like?" Tasha thought a moment before answering, "I haven't been there very long myself, and mostly I've been attending to my studies. I'm afraid that my education previously was a bit... lacking. The women, especially, of my family have quite a reputation, but..." She thought better of what she was about to say, though her face looked a bit downcast, but it was only for a moment, as she brightened, "But the house itself... why it is fascinating. You'd never know it had so many rooms from the outside... but you're probably familiar with that, as I would guess a lot of the homes in Chaos borrow from neighboring shadows, even as this one must." She stole a look at the view out the window. Then she turned to Helena and asked, "Did you grow up here in Chaos?" Helena nodded. "I've spent some time at House Hendrake," she said, glancing at Amba and smiling, "but for the most part grew up in House Ishtar. It was comfortable and I was well taken care of," she added, feeling a perverse need to defend her stepfather in front of her father's brothers. Despil smiled faintly without speaking. "Are you going to Amber?" [Helena] asked Tasha. "I assume so, I mean, I hope so," Tasha smiled, "My mother has the demons packing for me..." She looked at the sophisticated attire of the other ladies and worried that her trunks would be packed with dresses that would be totally inappropriate. She quickly changed direction of her thoughts, "Mother thinks it would be beneficial for my education." Helena chuckled. "My mother thinks it would be beneficial for my education as well. Mothers." Amba had again lapsed into silence, listening to the interchange between Helena and Tasha with some interest. At the mention of mothers, her look became more introspective as she looked down into the wine, swirling its contents. Tear like Amba fell quiet at the mention of mothers. Her smile remained polite, but wan. She deepened her silence by focusing solely upon her food. "I only got to really know mine fairly recently," Tasha admitted. "But she is certainly someone I admire, and I hope I am not a disappointment to her." Tasha noticed Amba swirling her wine, and her discomfort, so changed the topic of conversation, "Do you like the wine? I think this red goes exceptionally well with the meat." "Thank you," said Despil. He glanced across at his brother. "How soon are you planning on retruning to Amber? Will you be staying till our guests are ready to depart?" "If you can bear my company," he hazarded. "If Lady Tasha has servants attending to her concerns, perhaps she'd be so kind as sit with me while the others prepare." Tasha blushed, but looked delighted. She nodded, "If Mother allows." Despil glanced thoughtfully at his brother, but said nothing. "Time is an oddity between here and Amber, but I'm sure that any displeasure that the King may have will be forgotten once he meets these visions." Jurt raised a cup in salute to the ladies at the table. "We're going to meet the King?" Tasha asked. Her surprise seemed genuine. She turned to Tear, "I thought I was going to study at the University...." Tear set down her fork and let out a faint sigh of relief. But that reprieve was short-lived. Her violet eyes glanced between Despil and Jurt, sensing something dubious about their smug purpose. She could thank Larissa and Vikund for that skepticism. When she recalled all she'd been taught about the King, it all became clear to her. Her ears turned beet-red and she covered her mouth, letting out a scandalized squeak. She turned to look up at Tasha, "I. I. Am to train you in the ways of Amber. So you will be more comfortable there. It can be a very intimidating place at times. I don't know about your stay at the university. But. I can introduce you to the instructors. I'm in my final year." Her appetite having fled her, she pushed the plate away. Under her breath, she muttered, "I knew it!" "We're going to Amber tonight?" Helena asked. Her surprise also seemed genuine. She turned to Despil, "I accepted a dinner invitation. I did not agree to go onto Amber afterwards. I only received this invitation a few hours ago—I don't even know what the arrangements are to be once I'm there." "Well, if you're not prepared to go on quickly, I suppose I can suffer my brother's hospitality," Jurt allowed. His brow crinkled in concentration for a moment, "But I don't think I can spare more than two days... full cycles, before we return. While this may be one my more pleasant duties, it is not my only one." Amba was glad that she had remained silent. Her reservations were the same as Helena's, and perhaps moreso. Some sort of game was being played here, and she was not experienced enough in them to discern exactly what the goal was here. Tear cast Helena a sympathetic smile. After all, she'd been placed in the exact same situation not more than a few hours ago. Still, she tried to play peacemaker. "I believe your father has. Made. Arrangements for your arrival," she said. "For all of you." She tightened her napkin into a knot around her finger. "You mean. None of you knew?" Even as she spoke the words, Tear already knew the answer. Despil smiled. "I think my eldest brother believes that the King of Amber is growing up far too far from home. A few reminders of what makes Chaos so delightful to us all will, he feels, be timely. "And while you are here, on your first visit to Chaos," he continued to Tear, perhaps you might tell us if there is something that you would like to see." Tear tightened her napkin until her hand was white. Her mouth opened, but remained soundless. She'd never considered the possibility of travel to Chaos, let alone the opportunity to explore its wonders. There were certainly two obvious places she wished to visit, but the chance of seeing them was highly unlikely. She released the tension on the napkin, folding it up in her lap. She dared to meet Despil's eyes and smiled. 'Well, I. I would like to see my mother's home, sir. I only have a Trump of it. But I've never dared use it. I'd be trapped after all. "And the Logrus. Is that possible? Are we close enough to it for me to finally look upon it?" There was little hope in her voice. "I'm sure Mandor would insist on it," said Despil, dabbing delicately at his lips with a spotless napkin. "Really?!" Tear exclaimed with childish glee. She immediately blushed, embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. She wanted nothing more than to leap over the table and hug the man until he lost consciousness. But this seemed poor dinner etiquette. Instead, she humbly lowered her head and fought back the huge smile growing in her heart. "Would any of you care to pay your respects to the Serpent before crossing the multiverse?" he asked, glancing around the table. Jurt maintained his poise, but seemed unconcerned with such a trip. "I've seen it before and it holds no power over me," he replied. "I'd rather do some shopping I think. I promised a friend some crystaline demon tears for a particular jewelry setting." Helena stood from her chair and glared at Despil. "I've had enough of this charade. I want answers to my questions now, or I am returning to Ishtar and you can tell your brother and my father that he can go stuff it." "Please Helena, there's no need to be upset," Jurt explained. "It is possible that your father gave me the wrong impression as to when he expected our return, but if you need more time, I'm sure that we can manufacture some." He folded his napkin and laid it upon his dinner plate and regarded her over steepled fingers. "What specific arrangements do you need addressed if you were to join these other ladies in our expedition to Amber?" Hesitantly, Amba thought of answering, but.... Helena took a deep breath as she spread her hands on the tabletop. She exhaled slowly and looked at Jurt through lowered lashes. "Why?" she asked simply and directly. "I cannot speak for Tasha, but Amba and I have had no contact with my father, and then an invitation to dinner and to visit Amber come suddenly out-of-the-blue. Why?" Amba smiled a smile of both thanks and reassurance to Helena, remaining silent, awaiting the answer to the woman's questions. Despil steepled his fingers and smiled at his brother. "Yes," he said. "Do tell. After all, I'm just his humble messenger down here in Chaos." Tear fell quiet, not certain how to take this sudden hostility. She smiled faintly at Tasha, then concentrated solely on her wine glass. Tasha glanced back and forth between uncles and niece, then at Tear, one eyebrow raised in confusion, offering her a shy smile in return when she saw the girl smile faintly. Tear had then looked intently at her wine glass as if it could answer the questions being asked and Tasha also found she was completely out of her element here. Jurt was unfazed and offered a lazy smile in response to his brother. He took his time in picking up his goblet and taking a generous sip. "My dearest niece, your lack of communication with your father is scathingly obvious to think that he would entrust anything more than his simplest plans into my hands," Jurt said with little exaggeration. "But..." he gestured to the assembled company of ladies, "It has been suggested that you ladies might have interests that would be well served by a visit to the Jewel of Order." "I would be lying to suggest that I've delved deep enough into your backgrounds enough to make idle speculation on those interests, but two days or so will give me the time to make such inquiries." He finished his glass and replaced it on the table. "So, when you're ready to go and have dispensed with the moral outrage, I'll be capable of answering questions that you already have your own answers or suspisions about." "Morality has little to do with it," Helena replied to Jurt, her tone quieter, "unless you consider immoral an expectation for us to walk blindly into a situation staged by a very powerful and—by your own admittance—secretive man. To my eyes it seems more foolhardy than anything else." She straightened and regarded the table in general. "Please forgive my outburst. I will make my own inquires before deciding whether or not to accompany you back to Amber. In the meantime, there's no reason why we can't enjoy an excellent meal provided by Despil. I, for one, don't wish to squander the opportunity to learn more about not just my two uncles—both of whom I have met only tonight—but about Amber and other places as well." Helena looked at Solitaire and Tasha in turn, then raised her wineglass and drank from it. As Helena sat back down she calmly looked across the table, her expression composed, though underneath the tablecloth her hand found Amba's and held it tight. Amba's expression was also inscrutable, though her complexion was a bit flushed as she held onto Helena's hand just as tightly. Despil dabbed at his lips with his napkin. "Spoken like a woman of sense. I wonder which of your parents you get it from." Helena thought it best not to reply. Amba's eyes narrowed at the comment, as she forced herself not to glance over at her friend. [Despil] "Shall we have some salad?" Despil offered the salad bowl towards Amba and Helena as the two youngest guests spoke together. [Conversation between Tear and Tasha recorded below.] Helena took the bowl from Amba with a quiet thank you, served herself a modest amount, and passed it on. "Uncle Despil, have you been to Amber before?" Helena asked conversationally. "No," said Despil. His voice was pleasant enough, as was his smile, but the temperature in the room dropped by about three degrees. "Oh." Helena considered dropping her attention demurely back to her salad—that would be the safe thing to do—but decided instead to ask another question. "Can you suggest a safe topic of conversation then? I seem to be making poor choices in that regard myself tonight." Amba could almost sense Helena's trepidation, and dropped her hand to grasp her friend's under the table, giving a squeeze of support. Helena turned to Amba and gave her a quick smile in thanks. [Amba] was genuinely surprised and impressed when Helena continued onward, and smiled—she would never have been able to do so after Despil's cold remark. She looked at their host to see his reaction to his niece's refusal to be cowed. Despil turned and looked at her—and for a moment he seemed poised to say something acerbic once more. And then suddenly, unexpectedly, he smiled. A rueful smile that held a singular charm. "Forgive me," he said. "I'm letting old resentments dominate what should be a pleasant evening. The simple truth is that I come of a gifted and talented family who have, in a singular generation, acquired or achieved a position of considerable importance. And while my three brothers rule and play at the far end of the universe, I'm left holding the reins here. Except at times when a friend at the Courts is needed, I tend to feel somewhat abandoned. And when I am asked to run errands for my absent clan, I find myself somewhat ... prickly. Detestable behaviour, of course, but, I hope, in measure understandable. And even forgiveable. Amba looked from Despil back to Helena, even more impressed. She had caused her uncle to back down with the riposte, which was quite the achievement in Amba's eyes—Despil seemed so casually competent and intimidating in her eyes. "Perhaps you can suggest a term of service rather than a life postion. Isn't that what we're all taught to do as young children? To share and take turns?" Helena asked, smiling wryly. Despil laughed. "A charming ideal, niece. But I fear my kin have been corrupted by Amberite ways." "Oh?" Helena replied, encouraging elaboration. [Despil] "As for a safe topic of conversation ... do you realise that I have been following your progress through the ranks of the sword dancers with considerable interest? And, indeed, some pecuniary benefits too ... both of you." The smile now included Amba. Amba looked back towards Despil with some surprise that he was addressing her, then cocked her head to one side as she listened. Though she knew that bets were of course taken on the matches, she had never become involved in that side of the sport. So it was, knowing not how to reply to such a statement, she merely fixed her face into an expression of interest. She almost remained silent, but realized that she wanted to give Helena a reprieve from her uncle's attention, and almost without thought responded with a neutral, "Indeed?" Helena took a bite of her salad. She was happy to let Despil try to draw out Amba, who had been far too quiet this evening. "Yes, indeed," he agreed. "At first you had few supporters—you were an unknown quality, and although Helena's parentage attracted attention, people saw few advantages in backing someone who lacked either pure or demon blood." Helena raised her eyes to gaze at Despil briefly before returning to her salad. The half-breed comments were not new to her, but they still had the power to annoy. [Despil] "But you have both proved yourselves and I fear I now find it hard to get the odds on you that I once enjoyed. I used to enjoy the Dances myself, of course. That was when I had a brother in Chaos to partner me." "Well, other than your 'pecuniary benefits', this seems like it could possibly be a welcome change," Amba said. "Given the seeming predilection of many Chaosians to find their pleasure in places other than the Courts, and then pretend that the offspring of such dalliances are anything but their own fault, denigrating them as if they had some flaw rather than welcoming them as is right, to have 'pure' breds look at things from a different angle would a rewarding sight." "Though, thinking about it," she said offhandedly, "I suppose that's an impossibility. One wonders if such inbreeding as occurs is perhaps cause for spreading the myopic views that seem to dominate the Courts." Helena swallowed a smile and continued to nonchalantly attend to her salad. "I would agree," said Despil. "Certainly, our current family fortunes seem a case in point. Our success has been built on a willingness to expand the bloodlines." He glanced across at his brother. "Something I believe you are willing to pursue with some ardour." Sensing she was on the verge of getting drawn into something that she knew nothing about, Amba took this opportunity to sample her food, looking towards Jurt awaiting an answer. "Ah, willingness isn't always aligned with opportunity, brother," Jurt chuckled. "Nor would such discussions be worthy of ladies such as are assembled here." [Despil] "Shall we have some salad?" Tasha looked relieved at that suggestion, and that the dinner seemed to be back on course. Though salad was not her favorite dish, she nodded her head in hasty agreement. Tear sighed with relief and gave a nod. "Please?" She took another sip from her glass and set it down too hard, nearly splashing its contents. Immediately, she reached up and yanked on her earlobe, muttering under her breath, "Glupyj." She gave Tasha an apologetic smile, as the woman undoubtedly heard her. She cocked her head, trying to change the conversation; at least for the moment. "Are you a student, Tasha? You mentioned going to the university. What courses do you take?" Tasha shook her head, "I don't currently take any courses, but I've had private tutors. They've been preparing me to attend." She looked curiously at the other young woman, "But what have you been studying there?" Tear's smile blossomed. "Well, I'm about to graduate with my first doctorate; Elementalism with a minor in Alchemic Manipulation. My thesis is on the alchemic grafting of an Elemental to flesh. But right now it's all more theory than anything. That's why I want to go back to hone my medical training as well." This didn't sound in any fashion like bragging, but simply stating the facts of her academic career. "It's a lot different from my private training, of course. At the university, I can study linguistics and history. But with Master Mandor, it's all about sorcery and the Logrus." She reached over and patted Tasha's hand, "We can be study partners!" Tasha smiled, "Not sure how much of a partner I'd be... I'm not nearly at your level." Tasha looked pensive, "Mother mentioned something about training with Mandor, but I'm not exactly sure if she meant she was writing him to ask or if he'd offered.... What is is like?" "Master Mandor?" Tear said; her and Tasha's conversation now becoming its own little world, away from all the snipes and false smiles. "He expects the best from you, and if you don't live up to your potential he'll tell you in no uncertain terms. But he is also very kind to me. He took me in when I was ten. Trained me in things. Secret things. Showed me wonders I couldn't have dreamed of. So, if you've been chosen to study with him, it's a great honor. He is a very busy man, being Prime Minister, after all." She took a sip of water and smiled. "I think you may be my apprentice for a time. I'm to train you in the ways of Amber. But. There must be more to it, I think. I'm not exactly. A baroness, despite my title. Ask anyone. I'm more accustomed to books than people. But I can teach sorcery, I'm sure. It's all I know." "Perhaps, then, we are meant to help one another?" Tasha smiled warmly. "My mother has been drilling me on etiquette and ... Other things Mother is good at. I really don't know about sorcery, but I'll try to learn anything you're willing to show me." Tasha added eagerly, always interested in new things. "Perhaps so," Tear said, grinning. "I've never been trained in the arts of etiquette. As you can probably tell." Her smile faltered as a blush rose to her cheeks. "Maybe we can help one another learn something new. And it will help me to teach and share some of my knowledge. You can always learn new perspectives on the things you know best when viewing them through another's eyes." She cocked her head, "Will you be coming to see the Logrus with me, maybe?" Tear couldn't hide the hint of desperation in her voice. Friends, it appeared, were something she was wholly unfamiliar with. Discovering one was a gift to be cherished. "That's right! You've never really experienced it with your own eyes." Tasha shook her head, still amazed that the girl had been able to assay the Logrus without actually seeing it. "It is a frightful but beautiful thing..." Tasha's own eyes took on a strange look as her mind replayed her own battle within the Logrus. It was now a part of her as well, and it altered who and what she now was. Tear leaned on her elbow, watching the expression grow on Tasha's face as if she were sharing the experience herself. She let out a wistful sigh, smiling enviously. "I have already promised that I would wait with Lord Jurt for the other Ladies to return, but perhaps he would also like to see the Logrus and we can all go together?" Tasha looked from one to the other with a hopeful smile. "Oh yes. I'd like that very much, indeed," Tear said, sitting up with renewed excitement. She looked across the table at Jurt, her luminous eyes pleading and anxious. "Would that be acceptable? Master Jurt, Sir?" "Of course, of course," Jurt dismissed the issue. "Lady Helena has suggested a longer stay and I would be rude of me to expect you to spend every moment of the next several days together," he chuckled. "Unless you have a good supply of sandwiches and ale, then perhaps..." He let the teasing trail off. Tasha flushed, yet looked pleased. So he had been teasing her. She was sure it had been the same man. He had smelled the same.... But trying to focus on his comments about a longer stay, she turned back to Tear with delight, "Well, if you are staying in Chaos, may I offer you a place to stay at the Ways of Minobee? Then we could plan a trip to see the Logrus and... Get to know each other better?" She looked at Tear expectantly. Tear grinned brightly, her cheeks flushing. "I. I think I'd like that," she said in a timid voice. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, of course. It would wonderful to see where you come from. And. Visit. I can try to tell you a little about Amber too. It's so very different from here. I can actually feel the difference on my skin. It's very hard to explain." A thought struck her and she frowned. "I don't have any. Clothing. And I'm not sure if my money would work here. I guess I could wash this dress." She wrung her hands nervously. Tasha giggled, "You aren't serious? Wash your party dress?" Then she winked, "I can do a trick... Watch this..." She took her napkin and folded it like origami, and when she opened her hands, instead of a napkin was a tiny version of Tear's dress. "I can do it with bigger clothes, too. So we can make you any outfit you'd like, well, nothing too fancy...." Tasha admitted, "I still have problems with frills." At first, Tear began to frown. She'd always taken care of her own things and forgot that nobles usually allowed other people to do things like laundry. But the moment Tasha worked her miniature miracle, all that embarrassment was forgotten. Tear's violet eyes widened in amazement. She put her hand to her mouth to cover the nervous giggle escaping her lips. "How? How'd you do that? Is it a spell? No, no. You didn't evoke or weave. I don't think." She reached over and touched the small dress. "This was Shadow manipulation, wasn't it? Oh how delightful! In Amber, it is so hard to do something like that. See? We can learn from on another." She let out a delighted laugh and wrapped her arms around Tasha to hug her with an exuberance most unlike that expected of a Baroness. Tasha was at first surprised, but then delighted by the embrace and returned it warmly. It had been a while since anyone had given her a hug, and at that moment she missed her Gram terribly. Tears welled up in her eyes before she had even realized. She blinked them away, hoping no one had noticed her silly, girlish display. "To be honest, I don't know what it was... It's just something I've always been able to do. You see I loved to dress up this doll I had...." Again Tasha found herself choking up with emotion, "I left her in Darkmoore. Mother thought she was... silly."
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