Time Under Chaos | TimeUnderChaos / Vanishing Act browse

"Solitaire," Delluth said, just inside Vincenzo's office. He looked at her seriously, concern briefly overriding all the other things on his mind, visible in his face. "Talk to me? Tomorrow?"

"If I'm still in Amber, I'll have some tea ready for you," Solitaire said with all seriousness. "If not, Master Vikund has a trump of me. At least I suspect so. And considering the circumstances of our last encounter. He owes me a favor."

She smiled faintly, "Thank you for trying to help me tonight. Goodbye, Professor."

Solitaire headed toward the nearest exit.

Portia nods to Delluth, who knows his way around the ship - more or less, and follows quickly after the swiftly moving young Baroness.

"Baroness... allow me to escort you to wherever it is you wish to go. You are unfamiliar with the Queen's layout. It is easy to get turned around."

Solitaire slowed her pace and glanced up at her new escort. A nervous smile warmed her lips as she took in the woman's imposing beauty. "I…" she began, then closed her mouth; lips pursing into a thin line.

"Thank you," she finally said. "You don't really have to help me, you realize. And considering how the people on this ship must despise me. I wouldn't be offended if you attended to more pleasant duties. I can find my way to the docks."

Portia regarded her with a curious expression. "I am uncertain why you consider yourself despised on the Queen." She hesitated, then looked carefully around the hallway they were in before continuing in a lower tone. "There has been a rather lively debate among the staff for some time now on whether it was our place or not to inform you of Anansi's ..." she pursed her lips, looking for the right word. She gave an impatient grunt finally. "What he was up to. It's no secret Zito Vincenzo would not waste a breath to spit on him if he were on fire - except that the Marchesa would be upset with him."

She waved a hand expressively and shrugged. "But, as he took the decision out of our hands by bringing you here... I think you will find, Baroness, that you have more then a few allies among the staff. They were very vocal."

Solitaire's sad expression wavered at this revelation, disrupted by a curious smile. She nodded lightly, "Goran speaks highly of Master Vincenzo," she admitted. "That, in of itself, gives me a little confidence to believe you." She sighed deeply, appearing to deflate and sag inwardly.

"Thank you, Portia," she said. "I never intended to harm your Mistress. I've been ignorant about a great many things. This not the least amongst them. Love blinds us to the obvious, I suppose."

With a shrug, she straightened back up. "Well. There's nothing for it now. A lesson learned. And tears don't leave scars." She ran her hand through her hair, as if cleansing the pain from her mind.

"They do, Baroness," Portia replied distantly. "Just not ones you can see."

The young woman nodded glumly, unable to refute this statement, nor willing to. "Love sucks," she said quietly and shrugged it off as best she could.

Solitaire glanced around before looking up into Portia's eyes. "Could you tell me where I might find. Some new clothes? Specifically in the fashion of a Garnath noblewoman? Something. Pleasant to the eye, but practical for travel?"

She hummed thoughtfully, tapping her finger against her chin. She turned and looked carefully at Tear. "If you do not mind borrowing something, Lily is about your size. A pair of heels will make up the difference."

"They do, Baroness," Portia replied distantly. "Just not ones you can see."

The young woman nodded glumly, unable to refute this statement, nor willing to. "Love sucks," she said quietly and shrugged it off as best she could.

Petra clasped her hands behind her back and nodded solemnly as they walked.

"That would do just fine. And I'm willing to reimburse Lily for use of her clothing, of course," Solitaire said. She fell in beside the tall woman, allowing Portia to lead them through the ship. "I am certain that will not be necessary," the tall woman replied. "Likely she will never even notice."

"Well, if you say so," Solitaire replied. "You know her best. Thank you."

"I think. I see why Goran likes this place so much. I mean. I'm not. Well. Entirely in favor of the things that. Take place here," she stuttered, color rising to her pale cheeks. "But the people are genuine. And mostly kind. It's been such a terrible week. But I feel safe with you. And that means more to me than anything right now."

She laughed at herself. "I'm sorry. I'm prattling again. Tension, I guess."

"That can happen," Portia said agreeably as she opened a door into another hallway. "Aura and the Twins are terrible about that." She stepped to one side for Tear to enter before closing the door and falling back into step with the petite young woman. The decor down this hallway was different from the rest of the ship and decidedly Cornaron; from the art to the marbled look of the walls.

The architectural beauty appeared to calm Solitaire, her violet eyes drifting from wonder to wonder, savoring them with intellectual hunger. The soft timber of her escort's voice put her further at ease. She listened to it without interruption.

"All weeks cannot be bad, Baroness. Otherwise, you would have nothing to compare it to in order to declare it 'bad'." She gave Tear a half-smile. "As for what goes on here -" she shrugged. "It is different then courtesan culture of Cornaro; but you must admit - it is a much preferable environment for the elite clientèle then the houses of Broken Smile, and quite a number of the people who come here are not even here not for the sex, but the company."

"Well, I do find it intriguing," Solitaire said. "The ship, I mean. Not the… other stuff." Her cheeks turned another shade of crimson, the color having now reached the tips of her ears. "Unfortunately my first visit here. Well. You probably heard by now." She sighed and gazed up at Portia like a repentant child. Portia waved her hand dismissively.

"I could lose myself in the books that you have here," she admitted, struggling to keep pace with Portia's long, elegant strides. Portia noted that Solitaire tried to hold herself with the same confident poise that came so naturally to her guide; violet eyes flickering over covertly to check for needed adjustments.

"Maybe I'll come for the company," she half-joked. "At least I know that the person would want to be with me. If only for a few moments. If I'm allowed to that is." "I am certain something can be arranged," Portia nodded as she pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. "I am not much of a book person myself, but I am informed by those that are that the Queen's library is very impressive. You would not be the first one who came for that draw. You would also not be the only female among the guests."

She stopped in front of a door and began flipping through the keys on the ring. "Do not fret overly about your earlier visit. That was not your fault. Aunt Nancy has obviously lost his mind."

"Aunt Nancy? Heh. Heh-heh," Solitaire covered her mouth as she began giggling. "I rather like that. But…"

She sighed deeply, "I think he knew exactly what he was doing, Portia. He meant to hurt me. I don't know why. All I did was. Love him. And he laughed at me. I think. He found my encounter with your Mistress. Amusing."

Solitaire harshly brushed a tear away from her cheek, as if it burned her skin. "I'll always love him. The idea of what we had. Illusion or no. But for that. That cruelty he showed me. I now know what it means to hate."

She shrugged and fell quiet again, letting Portia find the keys and open the door.

Portia found the key and unlocked the door, but she turned to look at Tear before she opened it. "Listen to me," she said quietly. "And do not take offense, for I mean none in what I am about to say. You are very young compared to most of those around you - people with a lifetime or more of experience in manipulating others. They are masters of the art, and you have led a relatively sheltered life, si? That you were caught up in the ploys of one or more of them is not your failing. Do not let this corrupt you. Learn from it, certainly. You did not hear me say this, but I do not think any of those involved in what happened earlier were at their best. Your presence here caught the Marchesa completely off guard. She has been one of those who believed you should know what was going on, but was unsure how to open your eyes. No one on this ship meant to see you hurt; Goran would rather have cut off his right hand then hurt you, but there was really never any way for you to learn what you did without that happening."

Solitaire stared up at Portia as she spoke; her violet eyes as impenetrable as raw amethyst. A noticeable flinch betrayed the truth behind Portia's question regarding her sheltered life. Otherwise, she nodded with a mechanical stiffness. But at the mention of Goran's name, the thin line of her lips curled upward into a weak smile.

"Do not let this break you. Hate is an ugly stain on your soul, and you are far too young to be so touched." She opened the door into Lily's sitting room and stepped back to allow Tear entrance. "You can, of course, take a lesson from the Cornarons around you; Vendetta. But be certain of your target - because once sworn, Vendetta must be seen through."

"I am a Lady of Chaos," she said, stepping into the sitting room. "I've been taught the rules of Vendetta all my life. But until now. I never understood the need for it. I thought that people were good in their hearts. That love meant something. That you could trust.

"But in the last few days. I have been attacked. I've been betrayed by everyone I love. And everything I thought was the Truth now turns out to be a lie. Yet here I am. Still me. For better or worse."

Solitaire paused, looking back over her shoulder as Portia entered the room. "So don't worry, Portia. This won't break me. I thought it would. I really did. But like many things. I was wrong. I guess I should be glad for that."

Her gaze drifted away as she began surveying the room and the rooms beyond. "I enjoy your frankness," she said. "Thank you for it."

"I am normally an acquired taste," Portia responded with dry humor. She moved through the dimly lit, very feminine room scattered with books and clothing hanging over the backs of chairs. She sniffed as she kicked a pump of gilded leather out of her path on her way to the bedroom. "Lily is such a mess," she grumbled.

Solitaire gave Portia a sympathetic smile as they made their way through the clutter. "You'd hate my living room then," she said. "Too many thoughts. Too much work going at the same time. My bedroom though. Now that's a different story." A self-effacing roll of her eyes explained it all.

She came around Portia and looked about the bedroom. "Now I see why she won't miss anything. She'll never notice it's gone to begin with." She chuckled warmly, gazing about the bed chamber for something that would suit her future needs. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she noticed some of the 'finer' outfits. This turned to a hint of envy in short order.

"Well, I'll leave it up to you," she said, turning to gaze up at Portia. "What dress do you think would win over the heart of a man? Or at least stay his hand long enough not to kill me before I speak?"

Portia drew up short and regarded the young woman. "I think," she said slowly. "That it depends on the man, si?" She clicked her teeth together thoughtfully and then turned towards the closet. "Is he young and -" she gestured vaguely, "-open, relaxed like Goran? Or is he older-sophisticated, more of a structured fellow as, say, the Prime Minister?"

"I've only read about him," Tear admitted; trying to hide her embarrassment by turning her head, as if to look at something interesting. "But apparently he is decidedly regimented in his manner, but his sense of honor is extremely important to him. And he is passionate when provoked."

She tapped her chin for a moment and shrugged, "He must hold a lady's honor in high regard as well. At least. I think so. He took his niece under his wing easily enough."

She walked over to Portia and joined her in the search. "Nothing frilly though. I don't need it snagging on brambles and bracken. Lily will be most upset if I ruin her dress, I suspect."

Portia hummed thoughtfully as she flipped through Lily's gowns. "A lot like Zito, he sounds." She smirked, paused, then went on with her search. "Something simple, yet elegant." She glanced at Tear to get a read on her coloring and did a double take. "I thought Nicco was the only one with eyes that color. Amazing."

Solitaire blushed brightly and touched her cheek beneath her eye. "Nicco?" she said, her gaze darting away like a frightened rabbit. "I. Got them. From my mother." A shiver passed through her body, as if she'd been exposed to an electric current. She abruptly shook it off and shrugged, yet could not meet Portia's eyes again.

Then she shook her head and continued musing. "Lily favors pastels, as you can see. She is not one for bold colors. Something with lavender. Like this, perhaps." She held it up for Tear's approval. Dove gray patternless brocade with lavender ribbon trimming, it was elegant in its no - frills simplicity. The detailing, fabric and cut were of exceptional quality. One could wear it to a business dinner without being out of place. "It will accentuate your eyes, I think. Not that they need it. But it is not so pale that it will wash you out. A little blusher, lip color - si." She nodded.

Solitaire smiled in approval, "Oh yes. It's very pretty. Thank you, Portia." She ran her fingers over the weave and nodded once again, delighted with this wonderful outfit. Gingerly, she took it from Portia and glanced around for a place to change. She walked out of sight behind a dressing screen, but continued to talk.

"I usually don't. Wear much make-up," she admitted. "No need for it. I'm not what you'd call. Womanly."

Portia makes a scoffing sound from the back of the closet where she is looking for shoes that will work. "That is, I suspect-" there is the thud of a shoe on hardwood -"...that you have not allowed yourself to be. I understand you are quite the scholar. You are certainly a woman, you have just been distracted."

Solitaire reemerged and gently flattened the sides of her dress with a brush of her tiny hands. "It fits quite well," she said, most pleased. "You have a good eye for fashion." She dutifully examined herself in a long mirror, making tiny adjustments to her new outfit. "Well. I was a woman for a little while. Though, not enough of one apparently. Maybe I should have just. Stuck with my books. They aren't as. Complicated as men."

"Nothing but a woman is as complicated as men," Portia replied as she walked out bearing a pair of lavender suede walking boots. "But never tell them that. They like to think they are simple creatures."

Solitaire chuckled softly, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the laugh. "My auntie would disagree. But she is the epitome of complicated. Rebman women usually are." The laugh darkened on her lips as she thought of her family.

Her reflection stared back at her with eyes of violet fear. She tugged her ear nervously and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Alright," she whispered to her reflection. "You can do this. You /need/ to do this. They're counting on you."

Portia pretended not to hear Tear's pep talk. Instead she went digging in Lily's drawer for stockings.

Solitaire turned toward the closet. "A pair of shoes. Make-up, if you really think it necessary. And then I should be ready to go. Thank you for all your help, Portia. You didn't need to put yourself through this."

Portia handed her a pair of thigh highs that would not require a garter belt and the boots. "Nonsense. This is certainly more interesting then watching people drink and chatter." She studied Tear a moment and hummed.

"Something done with you hair, I think. Nothing complicated, I am not as good at that as Aura, but I can manage." Then she turned away to the dressing table, muttering about jewelry.

Solitaire's cheeks reddened as Portia looked her over. She refused to meet the woman's gaze, her eyes lidded with shyness. She took the accessories and went over to the bed. After finding a place to sit, she struggled to get into the thigh highs without crumpling her dress or rolling off the bed. "They...oof...make us wear... darn. These silly things... for school. There!"

The boots were far easier in comparison. Satisfied, she scurried after Portia, glancing around the woman at her selections. "And what did you mean. About my hair?"

Portia pointed to the chair in front of the dressing table. "Sit."

Solitaire nodded sheepishly and sat down. She began to watch Portia in the mirror, fascinated by this authoritative woman. The shy reverence shone in her eyes like violet fire. "You remind me of. My heart sister," she admitted in a quiet voice. "But you're not as sullen. It's. Nice."

Portia smiled over her head at her reflection, but didn't say anything. What was there to say after that really?

When she complied, Portia moved behind her with a silver hairbrush and started working on the dark hair. "You are going for a certain look, si? One that intrigues but is also ... business-like. You cannot leave it down. It makes you look too young and you wish to get away from that."

Solitaire's eyes narrowed at this and she nodded with a dark resolve. She shifted in the chair, trying to straight herself up and hold her body with a mature bearing. Although she did not create an entirely convincing illusion of poise, she appeared to be a fast study. Her eyes closed as the brush went through her hair. "That feels. Really. Good," she whispered.

"I like having my hair brushed as well," Portia confessed. "I have yet to meet a woman who does not enjoy it. It is soothing, and yet can be very erotic."

Any need for putting blush on Solitaire's cheeks disappeared instantly, as a wave of crimson washed up from her throat to the top of her head. She positively radiated with embarrassment. Her violet eyes widened as she struggled not to think of how hair-brushing could be erotic, and in doing so immediately came to her answer. This, of course, created another wave of crimson splashing over her features.

Her mouth opened and then closed. A few lidded blinks. And then her mouth opened again. A squeak escaped her lips. It sounded very much like an agreement, but could have just as easily been a fearful whimper. Either way, she did not stop Portia from continuing. Instead, she chewed her lip and appeared to be considering some deep thought.

[Portia] made quick work of it, and soon it was smoothed, twisted, and pinned into an elegant French knot. Any escaping tendrils - and it was likely inevitable - would simply frame her face attractively. The woman handed her a pair of smoky pearl teardrop earrings and briefly disappeared into Lily's bathroom to fetch her make-up kit. The young baroness inspected the earrings and gulped audibly. It hadn't been very long ago that her E'lbram had convinced her to get her ears pierced. As a result, Solitaire's jewelry collection lacked the finery such as she now held in her palm. "A dress is one thing," she called to her make-over mentor. "But these. They're beautiful. Won't. She be really mad?" Despite her reservations, she gingerly slipped them onto her earlobes.

"Pfft," Portia replied as over the clatter of her gathering things. "I cannot fathom it; Lily being truly mad at anything. She is far too cheerful. This, it can be really annoying." Portia came back out with her hands full and dumped the haul into a pile of small colorful metal and ceramic containers and brushes. She examined Tear's reflection and nodded. "Very nice. The curve of your neck, it is accentuated with your hair up and the dangling earrings." She twirled a finger over Tear's head. "Face me."

Solitaire did as she was told, turning around and gazing up at Portia; very much the frightened mouse before the imposing lioness. Her hand went to her neck and a curious smile lit upon her tiny mouth. Again she blinked with quizzical innocence. The concept of her being attractive, as foreign and foolish as it may be to her, had begun to trickle through the dam of self-doubt in her mind.

Portia gave her a reassuring smile. "Close your eyes. This is //my// kind of magic."

Solitaire nodded lightly and closed her eyes. "I trust you," she said in a soft voice. The words had a depth to them; one that surprised even the speaker.

It was obvious that Portia had decided to do a little more then she first stated; but her swift and sure movements were those of someone who knew what they were doing. Gently but surely color was blended lightly with the aide of smooth sponges while Portia hummed softly under her breath; Soft sable brushes dusted color over Tear's cheekbones and eyelids; narrow detail brushes outlines her lips and eyes before she was instructed to open her lips just so and more color was painted on. Portia didn't let her open her eyes until she was ready to accentuate her dark lashes.

And a hard time she had in doing so. Solitaire squirmed and wrinkled her nose constantly; pleading to see just what was going on. But eventually, she surrender to Portia's no nonsense manner and just allowed the artist to work her wonders.

Then the dark haired beauty took a step back and eyed her work critically and reaching over once to touch up with a highlight on the slope of Tear's nose. Then she smiled. "You may look now."

For all that work, the makeup itself was hardly noticeable; Portia really did know what she was doing. The woman that looked back - and there was no mistaking she was a //woman// - was elegant, beautiful and showed no sign of the girl Tear seemed insistent on seeing herself as.

Portia smiled at Tear's reflection in the mirror. "Not such a little mouse after all, si?"

Solitaire blinked with utter stupefaction at the woman staring back at her in the mirror. A shiver ran through her body, as if someone had walked over her grave. For the first time, the young baroness recognized just how much she looked like her mother. Certainly, there were elements of her father still there, but that regal flame Melantha had always possessed now shone in her daughter's reflection. Portia had completely transformed her, completing the metamorphosis that had begun earlier that week.

A shy smile turned the corners of her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, lest her voice shatter the moment.

Portia's reflection looked satisfied - and perhaps a touch smug.

She stood and then reached up to touch Portia's cheek, her fingertips as gentle as a kiss. "Thank you, so much. I am in your debt, milady. You've... helped me. More than you know." Solitaire wanted so much to hug the beautiful woman, but didn't want to ruin Portia's handiwork.

"Prego," responded Portia with another smile. "When you have time, we will teach you to do this, si?"

"Would you?!" Solitaire exclaimed, clapping her hands. "I'd like to. Look this good again. Someday." She gazed at herself in the mirror, smiling broadly enough to fuel Portia's sense of self-satisfaction even further. She reached up to touch her cheek, but resisted.

Instead, she straightened out her dress and nodded once more to her reflection. "I think I'm ready now," she said, more to herself than Portia. She glanced up at her companion. "Could you do me one last favor? Tell Goran that I will return by dawn. And if I don't. Not to come looking for me. Just to tell Princess Islain that I need her help. Please. Don't tell anyone else about this. Well. Petra, I suppose. She is your boss. You've done so much for me. I don't want you getting into trouble on my account."

The other woman waved a hand. "Is no trouble. Your message, it will be passed on as soon as I see him."

"Thank you again, Portia," the young woman replied. "For everything you've done. For me tonight. I will return. And maybe. We can speak at length. I. Find your company calms me.

"But for now..." her voice drifted off as she began to concentrate.

Solitaire stiffened and held her hands in front of her. Black lightning began to dance between her fingertips as if they were a pair of Tesla coils. "You may want to stand back," she said seriously.

Portia raised an eyebrow but backed away from the magical effects readily enough. She gave up a quick prayer for Lily's belongings. A dress was one thing - the whole room quite another.

For several moments, thick clots of shadow squirmed out of the cat's cradle of Logrus magic, as if hungrily sniffing the air for prey. They would dissipate and wink out of existence almost as quickly as they'd appeared. Until finally, one serpentine tendril coalesced into a thin line and stretched outward and faded into nothingness.

"There it is!" Solitaire pronounced triumphantly. With her eyes still closed, she added, "Goodbye Portia."

And then as quick as the flutter of hummingbird's wing, she simply ceased to be, leaving behind little more than a ghostly impression on Portia's retina. A musty scent of bracken and pinesap marked her passage from this world into whatever one awaited her elsewhere. Otherwise, the young woman had vanished without a trace.

[EoT]