Ladies Who LaunchIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Ladies Who Launch
"Hullo, Islain." "Petra," Islain inclined her head gracefully. "I know I did not give you much time, but will you take me through now please? New factors have influenced the speed at which I must move." The owner of the Ramblin Queen held out her hand. "It has been a morning for scuttling plans and quick actions," Petra agreed as she brought Islain through to the wide hallway decorated with paintings and small sculptures in alcoves. "Welcome aboard." Islain took in her surroundings with a smile. "I thank you. Please do not let me hijack the rest of your day, however. If there's a place I might freshen up and prepare for Amber? Your taste is exquisite." "Thank you," her hostess smiled and turned to go the opposite direction. "This way. You can use my rooms... raid my closet. It's a day for that. Will you be going in to Amber today or in the morning?" "As tempting as is the idea of having the evening to relax and prepare, I had best go this afternoon or I will arrive just in time for dear Johann's execution, which is not quite the image I would like to have associated with my return. I appreciate the offer of your closet, but we are not quite the same size." Islain smiled, following Petra. "I think this will do, although if I had something truly spectacularly flashy, I would prefer it. I'll be doing this whole heartedly or not at all." Suddenly, inexplicably, she sighed. "What does Merlin look for in a woman, besides a pulse?" Petra blinked in surprise, and then she laughed merrily. "Oh... goodness. He doesn't care for simpering fawns," she smiled. "But he also doesn't go for the other extreme. He likes women he can talk to and just be Merlin, and not His Majesty, Merlin I. I think that is part of why he enjoys himself here. The girls no longer see the King. They see Merlin. They talk to him about things that aren't even remotely related to ruling Amber. Last night he apparently spent a lot of time talking to the twins about their lives before they came here." Islain took that in, considering. Then suddenly she laughed. "He sounds like an all right fellow for someone I've been attempting to undermine for a century." "He really is," Petra said sincerely. "We quite like Merlin." She then took a step from Islain and looked her over closely as they swept through the main lounge, the sun shining gloriously through the huge stained glass window set high in the back wall. "I think I have a thing or two that will suit you - and fit you. My closet is like the Cave of Wonders that way." "For just such an occasion?" Islain asked merrily, feeling her body stretch a little, almost unconsciously, in the multicolored light. "I will be grateful, and for a hand with my hair, if you have anyone free and willing. Oh - the dress - I'll have to hide some knives in it, so nothing too terribly tight past the waist." Petra clicked her tongue considering as they started up the stairs to her office. "I have something in purple and silver, and another in red and gold I think will work. I'll fetch Aura to work on your hair. She is better suited to dealing with that much then I am." Petra led Islain through the elegant business office of burgundy and gold and into her sitting room of purples and grays and the matching bedroom that was scattered with assorted pictures in silver frames and a curious gold harp on the bedside table. Hanging over the bed and catching the light was one of Etrusca's Tears of the Singers. Except for a hastily discarded pair of heels, it was very neat and rather serene. "Something by Bach, please," Petra said to the empty room and the golden harp began to play. "Ah, elegance and magic," Islain sighed, enjoying the soothing sounds and the sweet soothing combination of colors. She looked at the Tear. "I've always wanted one of those, but was unable to obtain one." Sitting softly on the bed with a rustle of velvet, she reached behind her hair to massage her own neck. "I can see why your establishment is so popular. I would come here, simply to relax." "We have a few people who do just that," Petra said as she walked through into another room that Islain could make out from where she sat was the bathroom. "There are a couple of people on staff who are excellent at massaging you into a puddle of relaxed." She reappeared in the doorway and crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. She gestured at the Tear over the bed. "That was a gift. As was the one around my neck." She smiled. "One of the perks of having a place like this." "Shall I run you a bath so you can soak in scented oils and rose petals while I fetch Aura, and perhaps Janelle to give you a manicure? We should go all out for this. It's been a long time since you were in Amber." Islain let her smile blossom into a laugh. "I never say no to a bath in oils and petals, or to a manicure. Having my bathtub in Arden has been glorious, but soaking in rose petals is far too extreme a luxury for such a place." She turned, bent forward and met Petra's eyes sincerely. "Thank you." Petra just smiled and waved a hand. "It is my pleasure to do so." She turned and went back in the bathroom to start another bath. "There is are robes just inside the closet on the right," Petra called out over the sound of running water, but she soon appeared in the bedroom again. "I'll go fetch Aura and Janelle. Make yourself at home, Islain." Islain nodded, rose from the bed, slipping out of her shoes and enjoying the feel of the surface beneath her toes. As she padded into the bathroom, she undid three discreet fastenings and stepped out of the velvet dress, leaving it on the floor where it had pooled as if it were not a priceless thing at all. The corset was a little trickier, and there were harnesses for her sheathed knives to unbuckle, but in only perhaps three minutes, she had wrapped herself in a thick, soft robe. Then she picked up the detritus of her outfit and stacked it on a chair, covering the knives with the gown. She felt a little guilty about the tiny knife she had left gartered about her thigh, but despite her liking for Petra, she was far too close now to Amber to release all her paranoia, and the bath was a vulnerable place. The garden style tub was large and inviting. Rose petals floated in the steamy water that was scented by a blended rose oil with just a hint of something exotic and spicy that combined beautifully with the florals. Islain set the robe nearby and slipped easily into the tub, submerging to her neck in the rich, alluring waters. She let out a soft moan as her muscles relaxed in the steaming hot bath, arching her neck over the edge of the tub and stretching her legs up in the air and then back down, disturbing the petals. Petra returned shortly with a petite, voluptuous, sensual beauty with bright green eyes, and a tall leggy red head in tow and bearing a tray of chilled drinks. "Ladies, Her Highness, Princess Islain of Amber and Rebma as very few people have the pleasure of seeing her," Petra introduced with a grin. "We need to get her appropriately coiffed and attired to knock Merlin's socks off and still let Mandor know she means business, and we don't have much time." Islain laughed soundlessly at the introduction. "You're far too kind." "Your Highness," the other two greeted. Janelle pulled up a seat and laid out a dizzying array of tools and polishes to take care of Islain's nails while Aura moved to the dressing table to start laying things out in the order she wanted them "Islain, the redhead is Janelle. She is contracted to Jurt, but her primary loyalty is to me, this I can promise you." "The scarily sexy one is Aura, our resident Atlantean." Aura stuck her tongue out at Petra and then smiled brightly at Islain as Petra continued. "She is the only person on this ship not native to Cornaro that I trust with my life." "Ladies, I am honored by your company and your assistance," said Islain. "If you can have me finish looking half so polished as you do, I will be happy with the result. If there are touches that may especially entrance his Majesty, please do not hesitate to offer suggestions on my beautification. I usually do a bit better research before I go off to charm a man, but my... exile... made that a trifle difficult." Aura looked significantly at Petra. "His file?" "Ah!" Petra exclaimed. "I should have thought of that." She dug a key out of her pocket and tossed it to Aura. "If Vincenzo is in his office, just ask. Otherwise, you will have to get it yourself. Merlin's is in his desk." After Aura left, Petra sat herself at the vanity. "It will have everything we know about Merlin. Likes, dislikes, favorite foods, drinks, music. There's notes from all the girls he has interacted with." "Favorite colors would be a start," Islain agreed easily. Meanwhile, Janelle held out her hand for Islain's so she could get to work. Islain gave it, fingers relaxed. If her hands were any indication, no matter how many places she had lived in her life, she had never done any harder labor than organizing invitations or pouring wine. Petra handed Islain a drink; it was chilled and fruity and mildly alcoholic, but it wasn't local. Meanwhile, Janelle quietly set her attentions to Islain's manicure. "Antonia tells me that Merlin's colors are not Merlin's choice, so black and white are right out," Petra said from her perch at the vanity. "He strikes me as a jewel tone type of man. I'm leaning towards the purple for you this time, but if we raided, hmm... Antonia's closet - she's your size - we could come up with red or royal blue." "If I wear red, it may recall my father's colors. Normally I would approve but in the circumstances my pedigree through Moire may be good enough. I don't want to seem antagonistic. Purple should do nicely - it sets off green eyes," Islain said. She was aware she was over-explaining for women who were quite knowledgeable about such things, but the water relaxed her. But it seemed to answer an unspoken question of Janelle's and she paused her cuticle work to separate out a specific nail color. Petra turned her attention from fiddling with the various things scattered over her vanity and to Islain. "Are you seriously going to try and get Johann out of there?" She took in a breath and let it out slowly. "I am not sure, Petra and that's the truth. I am by nature a cautious person, and it may not be feasible under any circumstances. I will need a look at the lay of the land and a better understanding of the key players and the obstacles before I can say for certain I will make an attempt." Petra tapped her nail against her glass. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help there. You already know not to take Mandor at face value, Damien's shown his colors-though for all I know, it could be yet another ploy. Best not to trust him, I would think. I've known Vikund for thirty years, and I honestly couldn't tell you how best to work with him. He claims to look forward to the day he no longer has to deal with all this intrigue, but I have no clear idea how he would prefer to see that happen." Petra ignored the oddly strangled noise Janelle made before clearing her throat. "You probably know your sister's stand better than I. Morgan is rather fierce in his support of Merlin. Who the hell knows what Flora wants; outside of no one clashing with her decor. Chadwick... " she sighed and Janelle actually giggled. "I'm not sure that boy can think for himself at all. Then you have Mandor's daughter, who for all intents and purposes, looks like a Flora clone. But with her parentage, I doubt that's all there is to her." Islain listened to this silently, nodding her head. "You are an astute observer," she said finally, "though I think you misjudge Chadwick and Flora. He's a good man, no matter how naive, and he would have a sincere personal aversion to helping someone who burned down a good portion of Amber's docks and caused the loss of lives and livelihoods. Flora - will be on the side that wins. At the moment that's not Johann's. You left out Bleys, though, as well as Merlin and Mandor. How do you read their reactions to today's fireworks?" "Bleys was not where I could observe his reaction," Petra shrugged. "And Bleys has acted the same as I understand he ever has whenever we have interacted. He's a fairly regular guest to the ship, but I don't really know him off of it. I'm sure you know him better. Mandor we discussed in Arden, and I've told you my opinion of Merlin." "Bleys, possibly will feel the same as you sister: that Pattern wielders are a finite resource and we can't afford to loose any. Mandor's position concerning Johann is obvious, I would think. He's been a thorn in his side for too long, and he has now quite effectively, removed him. No one will blame him for executing the man who tried to kill him. The loss of lives and property on the docks is just a bonus; the affected survivors will not decry the decision, and the people will certainly not be seeing Johann as a martyr." "Merlin may, or may not, even be conscious enough to have a position." Islain leaned back and sighed, smiling sadly. "Know Bleys better than you? I doubt it, despite my century of experience on you. I think he will feel as I do - that yes Pattern wielders are important, but his own safety and continued trust by the higher-ups is more so. Mandor yes, would like to see an end to Johann, but I doubt he worries too much for Johann. He might make a deal. Merlin may be less likely to do so, especially if his headache is exceptionally bad. Did he collapse as a result of Johann's actions or something else?" "Larissa's use of Pattern to put out the dock fires, actually," replied Petra. "At least, that's what we have been able to piece together from everyone I've spoken to this morning, including your sister. They made it look like he had drank too much, but we can say otherwise." She smiled. "We keep meticulous records, especially bar tabs." "It is worrisome that a Pattern initiate would react badly to Pattern," Petra continued as Aura walked in and handed her a thick purple folder. "I am most curious as to why, and I'm sure I am not the only one." "No indeed," Islain mused, rolling her head around to her right shoulder in an easy stretch. "Merlin has taken Pattern and yet was bothered by an extreme use of it? That is quite..." She never really said what it was 'quite'. "Vincenzo would like a word with you," Aura warned her boss. "I am certain he would," Petra replied mildly as she flipped through Merlin's folder to make certain Antonia had updated it that morning. "He can take a number." "I really don't mean to be keeping you from anything that needs to be done," said Islain, not particularly sincerely. "I do enjoy your company but I am very comfortable at the moment, if you need to speak to anyone or... all the things you do to keep this marvelous place going." Petra waved that off. "Vincenzo wanting a word with me really means he wishes to yell at me," she said with a slightly strained smile. "I wish to not deal with it right now, as I am sure one of the topics is Vikund." Islain considered this in silence, blinking her large catlike green eyes. Aura nudged Petra's shoulder with her hip. "Up. Unless you want I should do your hair too." Petra swatted at her with the folder, but got up anyway. She glanced at her watch. "I hate to rush you, Islain, but Janelle and Aura need to get started on the next part of this undertaking, and you'll need to be out of the bath for it. Assuming you're still determined to get up there quickly." "But of course," Islain said, rising mermaid-like from the bath, water streaming from her body. She seemed unaware or at least unbothered by her nakedness as she stepped gracefully onto the mat and began to towel off. "As much as I am enjoying the royal treatment after all these years, sooner will still be best for poor Johann." "Of course," Petra replied agreeably. The occupants in the room treated Islain's nudity as they would anyone else's: it was just skin, and they saw a lot of it in the course of a day. Ever the artist and the hedonistic Atlantean, Aura did give the regal woman's form an appreciative look. At the very least, there would be a sketch come of this. Islain slipped the robe around her body and folded it but did not bother with the ties. She then sat down as directed, flipping her still mostly dry hair over her collar. Positions in the room shifted. Aura flipped the chair around so that Islain would be facing away from the table. Janelle would sit in front of her to paint her nails while the Atlantean did her hair. Petra vanished for a moment and returned from her room with a flat box about the length and width of a shoebox made of intricate inlaid woods and handed it to Aura. When sashes flipped it open, Islain could see several matching sets of jeweled and colored pearl-topped hairpins. Petra waited for Islain to re-robe and take her seat before continuing. "There are a few... small details about the attack you should ...consider. None of Johann's bullets found their mark. One did hit one of my security people who was off to one side. He has informed me that the wound just vanished. Not healed, just vanished. Sorcery seems the obvious explanation. That, coupled with Mandor's not even twitching when the shooting started, leads me to just make another mark in the set-up column, and those bullets were rendered useless before they ever even left the gun." "Not that this will help his defense," shrugged Petra. "Unless you wish to argue that Johann was pushed into making the attempt. But we discovered this morning that he *had* planned to make *a* attempt sometime within the next year or so, only he was going to try and use someone on this ship to help him. A useless endeavor on his part that would have cost him his head had he tried it." This was clearly news to the other two women in the room if their suddenly wide eyes were anything to go by. Islain still looked considering, and not as if she particularly wished to say what was on her mind. Finally she said, "I won't be able to use Johann was tricked. Most everyone will know it and not many will care. It isn't a fitting defense for a Lord of Amber besides. Almost embarrassing. May I... speak with your security officer? The one who was wounded? Or is that overstepping my bounds? I promise only to ask a few questions about the wound. I have some... experience with sorcerous attacks." "If he were onboard, I would be happy to send for him," Petra replied as she went back to flipping through Merlin's folder, and Aura and Janelle went to work on hair and nail painting. "But he is currently running an errand on the docks and won't be back until we put into port to take on our evening's guests. At the earliest." "Ah well," Islain took this in her usual stride. "You've done so much for me already. I only thought to piece together a few more parts of this puzzle. I don't know what your file on *me* has in it, Petra, but I used to do some investigating for King Eric. Sometimes those muscles just decide to start working whether I want them to or not." She paused, looked down at the folder. "Do you happen to know if he's a cranky invalid, or the kind who's out of bed too early, or the kind who likes to be pampered, do you?" Petra laughed without reservation at that. "Islain, he's a *guy*. Of course he's a cranky invalid who wants to be pampered, or to sleep. I don't even have to ask anyone. I can't imagine a single guy in this family that would be otherwise." She paused. "Except Benedict. Filthy Chaos bitch took his arm and he was up the next day. But I have it on good authority he's no fun at parties, which just goes to show you can't have everything." Islain laughed. "No fun at all," she agreed. "But the other thing - the macho man gene was something Oberon did to half his kids. No matter how hurt they were they had to be running around an instant later. I cannot tell you how much I hate having to lock the door to keep my relatives in bed after an excursion - or how much I hated replacing the broken doors. I thought perhaps Merlin might have inherited that much from Corwin. I never really knew him, but they say he was like that." "My money is on him being in bed," Petra smiled. "But he might have been convinced to drag his butt out for some reason. Unless there was a pretty girl nearby to wipe his fevered brow and make cooing noises at him to convince him he isn't going to die today." Islain nodded, taking that in with a smile. "Anything else revealing in there? That pertains to my goals, of course." Her questions were light, not particularly searching. She seemed to be making conversation as the two ladies worked on her. Petra leaned over and put in Islain's lap. "You might want to run down what we've noted as his various preferences and strong dislikes. Other then that, I think you'll be fine with Merlin. If Mandor can be trusted to keep his word-and I admit I am guessing based on that message I delivered- then you should be fine." Islain tilted the folder so she could read it without moving her head. "Mandor told me something once about Chaosians and their words," she said quietly. "And what he has given me for assurances are not much. But I shall play every card he's dealt me and a few I keep hidden for such occasions. As he no doubt fully expects me to do." "Most likely," Petra agreed. She glanced at the progress being made by the others and stood. "It looks like you're nearly done. I'll leave them to finish and go scrounge up whispers of silk and confections of lace ... and shoes , shall I?" "I think we've reached that time," Islain agreed with a sigh. "I'll be sorry to leave all this beauty and peace. Amber is still beautiful, I hope? Peaceful I know it is not." Petra vanished into the bedroom. A moment later, a muttered curse in a foreign tongue followed. Aura snorted a laugh while putting the finishing touches an Islain's braided crown of hair that was now studded artfully with the jeweled hairpins. It looked very much like a crown, but one no one could say anything about without sounding petty, since it obviously wasn't. Janelle gave a final wave of the fan she was using to dry Islain's nails with and then sat back to inspect. She snapped the fan closed. "We are as done as we can be, Your Highness." Islain looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. "A miracle," she said. "Thank you Aura, thank you Janelle. If I fail to dazzle it shall be entirely my own fault." "Then you should be fine," Aura said brightly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, but if you'll excuse me, I have to get myself ready now." "Knock 'em dead," Janelle smiled. "You Highness...." she and Aura both inclined their heads respectfully and the left the way they had entered. There was a murmur of voices from the other room before Aura laughed. "Well, that was stupid. Don't worry so much." Islain pretended she had heard nothing, regarding herself in the mirror but really looking through the familiar reflection. A moment later, Petra stuck her head in the door to check on Islain. "Gorgeous," she announced. "And your clothes are ready if you want to meet them." Islain turned with a radiant smile. "Oh, good. And then I shall be out of your hair, my dear cousin." She strode into the room. Petra had laid out the previously mentioned under things to match the gown of resplendent purple silk brocade that hung on the closet door. The golden harp still played, though had moved on to Vivaldi. "I compared it to what you were wearing. It should fit perfectly. The slippers are the same size as your boots." "Thorough as usual," Islain smiled, picking up the dress. "It's lovely." "If you require assistance, please let me know. My work day is starting soon and I need to change as well." Petra smiled and waved towards the walk in closet. "I'll just be in there," she said and soon vanished into the depths of the L-shaped room that served as the wardrobe version of the Cave of Wonders. "Do you have a way to get to the castle?" Petra called from the depths. Islain let the robe fall from her shoulders and stepped into the shoes. "I have a Trump of Larissa. I think she'll take me, assuming she isn't in the midst of some breath-taking piece of negotiation as we speak." Words notwithstanding, there wasn't much irony in Islain's words. She seemed to truly count her sister a fine diplomat. "She has her work cut out for her with this Johann business," Petra noted. "I wish her the best of luck. She is going to need it." Islain nodded, then realizing that Petra couldn't hear a nod, added a, "Quite so. Luck and some assistance from her less... principled... sister. She may not thank me for all of my help, but that's not unusual." She removed her corsetry and knives from the pile on the chair and put them back on. It was a corset which laced up the back, making her facility at managing it herself at least a little impressive. It was only a few more minutes before Petra came out in blood red evening attire of modern lines that bared one shoulder of the complicated arrangement of knots that angled to the other side. Her hair was swept up in a smooth French twist and makeup had been artfully applied. She carried a pair of strappy high heels in the same shade as the dress. Dropping them to the floor as she mused over a velvet tray of sparkling earrings pulled from a tall wooden armoire that sat just outside the closet. She glanced over to check Islain's progress. "If you need anything, you can send word. If it is an emergency, I have a Trump I can give you. I gave Larissa one this morning, just in case. After the debacle this morning and my Trump being on Johann's person, I must ask you to be careful of who finds out you have it. It's not personal. It's business. But I offered you an escape route and it's either me, or a place in Shadow that you will know nothing about if you have to use it. Your choice." Islain considered. "Mandor may search me. I would, if I were him. I had best save your reputation from more tarnishing and take the place in Shadow, although I would much prefer to return here for my safe conduct." She stepped into the dress and began to do up the back. "Just the part where my fingers don't reach. If I twist it like the corset, it may muss the line..." Petra moved in behind her to fasten the gown. "I will arrange for one of my people there to have a way for you to contact me if it comes to that. The passphrase will be ... Zita's occhi dorati. Do not forget it, and do not tell anyone else." Islain repeated the phrase at least four times before she felt her grasp of the accent made it seem possible that she might say it for any reason
everything." Turning, she took Petra's hands in hers. "You may believe me, I will not put you in danger, regardless of what decisions I make in Amber. I am honored to have counted you a friend." "You be careful," Petra admonished. She gave Islain's hands a light squeeze. "And take care of Merlin. He seems ... lonely somehow." Petra smiled. "And should you actually manage to achieve the position you have returned for, let him visit now and again, we enjoy his visits. We can arrange discretion." Islain nodded. "If I achieve what I want, I will be kind to Merlin, I promise you. And he may visit whenever he wishes, discreet or no. I am not a jealous woman. Perhaps one day we shall visit together." Petra laughed. "You do that. We'll pull out all the stops." She gave Islain's hand a final squeeze then turned to pull a sketch pad out of the beside table drawer. She flipped to the back and carefully removed the sketch of an elegant sitting room and handed it to Islain. "There's a black silk rope hanging from one wall. Pull it twice. Someone will come for the pass phrase." Islain smiled as she took the card and slipped it into a box with the rest of her cards, though in a secret bottom that had only one other card in it. "Thank you," she said again. She had removed earrings from the dish herself, and was bejeweling her body to match her stunning hair. Soon enough, she sparkled with a Rebman's love of jewelry. "I promise I will return all your loans. And now, I had best see about meeting my sister." The box still out, Islain cut it, pulled out a Trump and held it lightly between her fingers, face down as she regarded Petra. Petra just smiled as she retrieved her shoes and left Islain to make her call in private. Someone was already knocking on her office door anyway..
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