The Seduction of Chadwick: Before the ThroneIn the Great Hall of Amber, the winter's afternoon was drawing on apace. Court business had been brisk - new messengers from Chaos had been gracefully received; various Golden Circle Ambassadors had presented petitions which Mandor had smilingly received on the Court's behalf. And now, the last item of the day - Flora's latest project: the plans for the Refurbishment of the Ambassadors' Wing of the palace, where those seeking treaties and accommodations with Amber prior to establishing their own Embassies might stay. It was something that had, for various reasons, been delayed several times in the past. This time Florimel had determined it would be agreed if they had to be there all night. In actual fact, Mandor had excused himself early on in the proceedings - a clear sign that Flora could do as she wished. Merlin, forced to remain, was clearly furious at being trapped - from time to time he darted venomous looks at the empty demi-throne at the foot of the dias where Mandor usually sat. But Florimel, who had been frustrated by the earlier put-offs, was determined that the case should be rehearsed in full, and had no intention of letting Merlin escape until he had been presented with detailed floorplans and furnishings down to the positioning of the dolphin motifs in the bathrooms. And to support her, Flora was relying on her son, Chadwick, and her niece, Clytemnestra to take their share of the presentation. Larissa, wearing her usual black and seated to the left of the dais, seemed to be taking notes with an incongruous ballpoint pen, though if one were to circle behind her, it would reveal a sheet covered in intricate exploded diagrams of clockwork parts, and equations in a language that was not Thari. Chadwick was enthusiastically backing his mother's ideas, pointing out the goodwill that would be produced if Amber could accommodate diplomats without homes. "... and here, the diplomats have ready access to the kitchen from their rooms, hardly interrupting sleep. I also heard about that terrible spill J.J. Johannsen took the other day, and it could be completely avoided by secure railing that my mother has suggested... here," he pointed to a location on the blueprints that was marked 'safety rail'. "I'm sure everything will go well." As the long discussion went on, and on, and on, Morgan slowly eased back against a wall, and then subtly began working his way around the throne room towards the side where Larissa sat. Using the hand away from Flora, and using his body to shield the motion from his aunt, he waved his fingers, trying to catch Larissa's attention. Once she noticed him, he pointed towards the door behind the throne room, and made a pouring motion with his hand. Clytemnestra rose from her seat for the umpteenth time, taking yet another opportunity to gracefully make her way over to an easel she had set up near the blueprints. The easel was set up with pages and pages of a decorator's collage- room designs with samples of fabric and paint chips. So far, she had spent what seemed an endless time flipping back and forth, but there was no question that she had looked good doing it. "That's new," she said. "I'm worried that it would clash with the overall swept design that I was working for here. Perhaps if this... 'guard rail'... had a more curved appearance, like this..." She started doodling with charcoal on the easel sheet. Merlin's eyes glazed over - a trick that shapeshiftung skills rendered rather more literal than when the expression was generally employed. "Aunt Flora," he said plaintively, "why don't I just give you blanket permission to raze the castle to the ground and build it again from scratch? With my full blessing?" Flora's smile was her very sweetest. "I couldn't possibly presume so far upon the royal perogative, my dearest nephew. Besides, Clytemnestra hasn't shown you the cunning plan we've devised for the arrangement of cupboards in the servants' quarters yet." Merlin made a sound that in anyone less than the King of Amber would have been called a whimper. Then his eyes widened back into life, and he gave a sudden, angelic smile. "Such important decisions, aren't they?" "Yes," began Flora, "and we must ... " "Far too important to be decided in a single afternoon," said Merlin decisively. "We need a Committee, to consider everything and to report back ... " Flora gave a genteel cough. "That was what we agreed - or rather, your Majesty, what you commanded, six months ago. What you are hearing today is the report of that Committee." "Then I accept the findings," said Merlin. "In full. In toto. Vote of thanks to all concerned. Splendid work by all - and I give my royal command that work will commence three weeks on Friday which should, I trust, give you ample time to find contractors. "And that concluding the business of the Court for today ... " He cast a fulminating look around the Court, challenging any to press further business on him ... Chadwick retreated behind his mother, giving all the due respect that both parties commanded, and following Flora's lead on any and all actions. "Good," said Merlin. "That concludes today's business, and I thank all for attending ... etc., etc. Doubtless I shall see you all tomorrow, same time, same place. This audience is concluded." He nodded to Flora, smirked at Clytemnestra, ignored Chadwick and then, displaying more animation than he had done throughout the entire audience, he sprang lightly down the steps of the dais and disappeared behind the throne. They heard a door slam. Flora watched him go with narrowed eyes, and then gestured to the waiting footmen. They sprang forward to begin to dismantle the displays she had created to explain the plans. "Tea, I think," she said in her most dulcet tones. "Your rooms, Clytemnestra?" Chadwick busied himself helping the footmen until it looked like his mother was prepared to leave. Damien had stood in the back, seemingly attentive to Flora's presentation the whole while. Now that court was dismissed, he slipped out the back as quietly as he had arrived. Cly had the most innocent and unforced smile and expression on her face- which, of course, begged the exact opposite. "That would be delightful, Aunt Flora," she said. She merely had to turn and look at one of the footmen- Musick was his name, if she recalled their one-time tryst correctly- to set him scurrying off to finish the preparations for tea she had made long before the meeting. The smile grew a little wider as the full implications of Merlin's words began to sink in.... Flora looked at her sharply as they began to move towards Clytemnestra's rooms at a sedate pace. "You appreciate the breadth of our remit?" she said. She had not actually noticed whether Chadwick was dutifully following or not. Chadwick followed, with a strange set of expressions playing on his face. Eventually he settled on servile, having lost his smile to the lack of attention, and feeling that chastised was not... was not right. He tried not to let his footfalls echo too much, lest he upset his mother. Clytemnestra glanced around before saying, "broad support, yes, in keeping with our efforts. Not carte blanche." "Grey areas," said Flora, "which we must exploit to our best advantage." She paused on the entrance to Clytemnestra's sitting room. "How delightfully you keep these rooms, dearest!" "Thank you," Cly said demurely, and meant it. Her rooms had been redone in the fashion of an Italian villa, down to reworking the stone walls to allow arched windows and a large vista of the seascape. Either Cly had pulled some strings or had managed to take over two rooms, because there was a lot of space. Long low couches, carved wood tables, and a plethora of cushions made the whole area look casually occupied- yet with a few minutes' work, it could appear as formal as desired. A fire in the hearth kept out the chill, and a kettle was just off the fire itself; nearby was a full tea-service with a variety of cups and mugs. [OOC: so there, Dworkin! Nyah!] Everything, from some subtle arrangement of space and furniture and art, seemed to mesh together perfectly. "Excellent," said Flora approvingly, taking a seat. Then she looked down at her hands and frowned. "I've misplaced my gloves. Chadwick, dearest, would you be so kind as to fetch me a spare pair from my room? The oyster shell ones, please, with pearls at the cuffs." End of Thread
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