Good Intentions


They were late, but not terribly so. Down the road Edan knew that his horse was being held for him; but he was more than happy to sit next to Hannah in one of the family carriages. For the moment, at least, they had been left alone to talk as the carriage rolled ahead.

He closes his eyes and stretches. There was still a strong feeling of pleasure and euphoria, thrumming through him like a plucked guitar string. Edan wears his dancing silks with modified sleeves in his colors of white and crimson, and the fabric catches the ambient light and shimmers with every movement. His feet are bare, brown skin in stark contrast to his clothing.

He starts to say something, stops, and finally commits. "You know," he says, "it's only recently occurred to me just how much of a fool I am. I hope you can forgive me."

Hannah has abandoned her high-necked, full-skirted black gown. She has braided her hair and pinned it into a bun at the base of her neck, into which she has stuck four purple feathers. The new gown is sky blue, matching her beaded slippers, and in an empire cut that does nothing to de-emphasize her pregnancy. Because he knows they're there, Edan can see the hint of her red buckskin pants, but it isn't obvious. Her medicine pouch sits outside the dress, now, and is larger than her usual type. She has beaded it with a red bear facing her right side, a purple griffin facing her left, and behind them, a black raven, wings wide, in a dive, perhaps. The edges are blue flame, done with multi-hued, opalized beads so the fire wavers in the light.

She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at Edan, trying not to smile. "If you're attempting to apologize for something, you're going to have to be more specific. I do not forgive broadly, only specifically."

"These past months I have traveled much in Shadow," Edan says. "Thinking that I was doing important work. Reacting to events, mostly. I thought that this was how things were, that I had little choice but to roll with things as they came." He leans over so that they are very close. "That was foolish. I have a choice in my own fate. The most important things, they were right in front of me, and I did got give them the attention they deserve."

Hannah makes a little huffing sound, but smiles nonetheless. She closes the gap to kiss his cheek, and says quietly, "Yet, they were not right in front of you, they were here and there and eventually on a space station out among the stars."

She leans back to get a good look at him, and shakes her head. "I had a trump of you. Communicating would have been easy enough for me, and the burden of it... was on me. I didn't call you because I wanted to see, and feel, how this might work. We both have duties. We are both on journeys that follow different paths. I do not think we will be so lucky - and I do not think we'd be happy - turning our backs on where our choices have led us here." She pauses a minute, and her face softens back out of seriousness. Her mouth gets a little quirk. "That is all very complicated. I like most of what makes up Edan, enough that any foolishness just makes me smile. I'd like more time to know you, and I remind myself that, barring disaster, we have all the time in the world for that. Edan controls his fate, but part of who he is requires him to take his duty to protect his larger family seriously. Hannah controls her fate, but part of who she is requires her to fulfill her duty to support the connection all things have with one another, to heal.

"I desire very much to have more time with you, but no doubt there will be something the king needs of me tomorrow or next week. And if it can be avoided, I don't want the child in a war zone until they are old enough to kill. I don't know when that is, because I have only killed with consent. Fourteen, at least, but we will have to learn the child, too. So, I will enjoy your foolishness, Tehila. I will tell you if you make me angry, or if I feel you owe me your attention. I will loudly tell you if I think you are not giving your child what they need. I will need you to do those things for me too. And sometimes, many times over many years, you will need to forgive me. We can do this, yes?"

Edan is silent a moment, digesting this; he smiles, then, and shakes his head. "That was...remarkably well said," he says. "Yes. We can do that. I wish I had your way with words. I think a war is coming, and things will likely get difficult for both of us, but I am always near when you want or need me. You have my Trump." He smiles again. "And I still have your hair."

She laughs in delight. "I forgot all about the hair. Do you need more? Or perhaps we should just ask Paige if she will make a trump of me for you? It seems... less likely to get blown away. Wherever do you keep it?" She's not squirming around as she was earlier, a bit more settled in her body. She does adjust at every bump of the carriage, though.

"Well-l," Edan replies, "were I to need more, hair from the now You has more Similarity than hair from the then You. But a Trump would be safest. I would only consider using it in an emergency. The spell could be seen or tracked." He holds up his sleeves. "They're in my room at the moment. No pockets."

"A dancing, questing, magician-knight. With no pockets. Similarity. Hm. So, if I were to do something radical, something soul-touching enough that I might want to change my name, the spell would cease working because the hair would no longer be aligned with who I am. Things like walking the pattern, or deciding to take on my mother's mantle of godhood, if such a thing could even be done?" she asks.

"I think you should ask Paige this time - she gave me yours last. Also, I expect she will have had enough of me shortly, bad patient I am like to be." She does seem a touch worried she's gotten on Paige's last nerve.

"I'm not worried. Whoever you have as a support group, surely they will allow for the fact that you are an expert and may explain to them, in running commentary, everything they are doing wrong." He grins at that. "I will ask her, definitely before any deployment, and hope she has time to do so.

"Your hairs...are still your hair. I could probably still make it work, even were you to radically change. Similarity is one of my favorite Principles, but the effect of Parting the Veil to you using Similarity would be messy and noisy and generally undesirable. Normally I would be carrying a cornucopia of reagents that would assist me- most any sorcerer would have the same- but each Artist would solve the problem differently. Brennan would track you through Time. Ambrose actually did Part the Veil to Brennan, probably with Similarity or Heredity or some Uxmali blood thing."

He could see his knights now, further down. Edan's expression is a mix of excitement and dread.

Hannah takes his hand. "Tell me how the presentation is planned to go, in case I cannot stay."

"Ooohhh," Edan says. "Well, first, the Order of the Lamp will ride to the Mayor and show that we can ride in formation. I hope. Then, he will give a speech and say we are welcome here and will be relied upon to help keep the peace and don't burn anything down. Then, I will give a speech and say thank you and what we plan to do here and we won't throw wild parties or burn anything down. Then, I will tell them we have prepared some entertainment in celebration of our welcome. And then I will dance like a God of Dancing, and the Lamp will assist with their drumming. I hope.

"And this will do two things: one, it will show that instead of raw recruits stumbling around, we have a team- a family- that can already perform a difficult task like this dance on-point. Also, it has the secondary benefit of advertising my blade skills relative to the rest of the Family, all at once. I've been lucky so far to avoid the slew of sparring requests that normally would occur."

"I find you just have to be ready for the failure. Falling out of formation is for 'confusing the enemy'. If they can't drum, well, may your Merciful One be so," she teases, squeezing his hand. "Are you doing a sword dance?"

"Part of it is. Part of it is a ribbon dance." He holds up his sleeves again, and shows Hannah the extra crimson silk that has been sewn onto the ends of the cuffs. "Part of it is acrobatic exercise. And none of it is Sorcery."

"Part of it is. Part of it is a ribbon dance." He holds up his sleeves again, and shows Hannah the extra crimson silk that has been sewn onto the ends of the cuffs. "Part of it is acrobatic exercise. And none of is Sorcery."

Hannah colors, and looks away from Edan. "Hm. Everyone is sure tho be impressed. I'm hoping some of my tribesmen have made it over for the presentation. I'm certain they'd love it. How many warriors do you have?"

It becomes Edan's turn to blush and look away. "Thirty. Thirty to start, thirty left of all those I led long ago that I would trust to ride with. Things have much changed at home. We are gathering in Shadow, though, close to the border of Broceliande, and there will be three hundred soon enough."

"Random warned me about going 'home'. It isn't an easy thing." She gently draws his hand back into hers. "Three hundred is a lot. You won't really use formations, will you? When you're fighting, I mean?"

"Not really. Only in the loosest sense, when we are horsed. It is not like a marching army." Edan moves his arm around Hannah, still holding hands. "If the dance is good enough, young men and women of Xanadu might say, 'how can I be a part of this?' And if that fails, I can talk to Corwin or Father, who are the experts in raising troops in Shadow." He smiles. "But as good as I dance, you will be the one doing the real work. Are Paige and Solange the only ones who will be with you? As I fret and fume outside your door, I mean."

"I hope Robin, too. And if Corvis were to come, she'd help keep my sisters calmer - I don't feel they're very calm by nature. And then I think I may have told Brij - Folly's mother - that she can help. Or she offered... Anyway, you have better things to do than fret and fume. For example, have you gathered any of the things you need to take care of a baby, say you weren't busy and I got called down to the city to help deal with a building collapse or fire or disease outbreak or something?"

Hannah relaxes a little into his embrace, but shifts her head to the side just enough to give him 'that look' that means she thinks preparing for a baby hasn't crossed his mind at all.

Edan manages to look smug, but the look only lasts a few seconds. "Hah. My quarters are the same size and layout as those reserved for young knights starting families. They're...just not built yet. When they are, the necessary furniture will be there. As for most everything else, I assumed there would be a wet nurse, and that you would select them and vet them- I would just need to verify they could work in the compound." He smiles, a little, their faces close. "A good one would have their needs well organized in advance, neh?"

"Oh, yes, while we're on the cultural clash subject - how are you going to introduce me to your knights? Or do I just need to completely avoid the subject... somehow?"

Edan pauses a moment before answering. "Regarding a nurse, I was thinking our child would be with me and you would be gone for many hours and they would be hungry and I have no breasts," Edan says. "Even a short trip here takes hours. Maybe they have iceboxes here, I've never checked, and it is a moot point."

"They do have iceboxes here. I've been told they don't even explode. So why is that a moot point? You seem to understand how it would work."

Edan shakes his head. "I am sorry. I did not speak clearly enough. If there is refrigeration, a wet nurse is a moot point. We will not need one."

"Oh, well then. Good." This seems to relax her a great deal.

"As for you, you are cocuklarimin anasi, the mother of my children. How they see you is...really complicated. The short answer is, they won't like it, it's not illegal, they won't say anything openly, we're in the land of the infidel anyway, and it's important that I claim our child as mine. The long answer is much more complicated and has to do with how marriage works in the Land of Peace, and who and what I am." He pauses again. "Did you want to hear all of it?"

"I feel as if I'm walking a minefield. If the simple answer is they'll think I'm your concubine or... something, and I just need to punch anyone in the face who thinks they should say or do something disrespectful because of that, that's an acceptable answer for me. How will they see the child?" she asks, getting down to what she's really concerned about.

He looks away. "Remember who I am. I carry the blood of the afrit. I am like a demon in their eyes, a supernatural creature. And paternity is everything in the Land of Peace. Normally I would say that our child would be anathema to my countrymen, but I am also their savior. I was cleansed and forgiven of my birthright, at least officially, but there has always been the occasional whisper. I am more than human to them; I bring chaos and order, victory and discontent. There is a touch of magic and wonder in everything associated with me. And that includes you, and that includes our child. When I publicly claim you both, they will treat you as they treat me: with a mix of awe and reverence and more than a little apprehension."

Hannah laughs with relief and squeezes his hand. "Look at me. I'm a physician and medicine man, so... I won't even notice. I do want to know it all, but not today - we're short on time. All about the Land of Peace and their rules of propriety and all that - so I can break them correctly. How exactly does this public claiming work?" she teases.

Edan has the same slow smile he had at dinner. "I was just going to pull some people together and make an announcement," he says. "Did you have another idea in mind?"

She shakes her head at him, chuckling. She reaches to push his shoulder playfully. "The Omaha would have just known. The whites would have just gossiped. I figured we'd get something the same here. The family will just know. Everyone else will just gossip." She shrugs.

"If you're going to announce something, please do make sure to include Doctor before and Le Corbeau after Hannah. Or if you're going all out, it's Spirit Healer to The People Who Go Against The Stream, Doctor Enana Ohanze Ptecila Hannah Le Corbeau. You can leave the lineage out of it, because that gets overwhelming quickly." She grins at him. "And frankly the only people who would care - it's not their business. Also, I'm no longer sure how accurate it is."

Edan laughs. "Done. I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to recruit you to help or train- but word might have reached them already about how busy you are and who your patients are. If they haven't, I can explain it to them."

"Who is they?" she asks, "Because I did get some field doctor'n training started just before I left. Hopefully Kyril kept it up and was decently behaved while I was gone, because I took his parole... and Brij, I hope she didn't get distracted. I don't even know how long I've been gone from here," she realizes, aloud. "I really don't need anything else to deal with for two or three days. Family meeting, baby, or vice versa, and then who knows. I really need to spend some time with Gerard, let him growl at me... Oh, I should invite my father and Gerard to the first free dinner I have. They can growl at me together." She seems to think this is a brilliant plan.

"I can invite your father too, and since they're growling he'll be charming." Her voice goes a little tentative. "Have you told your father he's going to be a grandfather again?"

"'They' are my knights commander, who you will meet if and when you come to the compound," Edan says. "I was going to tell Father at dinner, but he was not there. Knowing him, he already knows and is waiting to act surprised."

Hannah nods slowly, and then shrugs. "So, is it multiple Knights who are commanders, or a Commander of knights? I don't know anything about how orders of knights function. The Omaha and Ponca have societies for that sort of thing, and you have do complete quests and achieve a certain level of wealth to gain entry. This is how Huon ingratiated himself to so many of my universal tribal cousins."

"There are five knights commander in our band," Edan says. "Brothers and sisters I have ridden with. They carry knives of fire and enchantment. They differ in age, wisdom, and motivation, but each of them have important skills to contribute." He pauses. "It sounds difficult to be part of the societies you mention. I take it that there were not a large number."

She shakes her head. "The Omaha - those are The People Who Go Against the Stream - have one. The Ponca have one - they are called Hethuska Societies. Long ago we were one people, thus the war societies. To lead or get the honored positions you have to have engaged offensively, wounded so many, broken a neck - and been recognized for it by the War Leader or the Medicine Man. That recognition was part of what I was doing at the dance you came to. Their songs and dances keep the stories of our warriors going back centuries." She shrugs. "When I came to Amber, it had been 12 years since the buffalo hunt was outlawed and Ponca lands were stolen by the government. People were despondent, hopeless. The displaced Ponca, especially... easy to see young men wanting what Huon was offering. A chance at valor; be a warrior - instead of a drunk. It was bad on the Blue Earth - a third of the Ponca died within a year of forced removal, so I imagine it was worse, elsewhere."

She sighs. This makes her unhappy and not a little angry. "Edan, I want us to do something." Hannah sits up and looks at him, smiles a little smile, and leans forward to kiss him.

When she reluctantly pulls away, she says quietly, "This is what I want. Time is rushing forward. Let us look at this beautiful city, and feel the air, and keep this moment in our minds to refresh us when times are hard or dark. There were hard days, and then there was this; the family was together speaking and not fighting. Edan was at the start of his path with The Order of the Lamp, at the start of his path of fatherhood." She smiles as she turns from him and looks out over the city.

"Hannah was impatient to meet her child, armed for delivery with purple griffin feathers in her hair, wearing the colors of the Sky Clan. Edan's warriors had come to Xanadu from the Land of Peace. Hannah's cousins had chosen Xanadu after their destructive journey - a place to heal. A centering of purpose, on a beautiful day; warmth and connection and peace. Do you feel it?" She squeezes his hand, but doesn't look back from the view, drawing a deep, happy breath.

Edan smiles at Hannah's words; that, or his lips are still tingling from the kiss. "That was some of my speech," he says. "This time, this place, it is a crossroads. A beginning. After this, each of us will move in different patterns. But for this moment, we are all together and at relative peace. And this place...it is new, and fresh, and growing. I am glad to be part of it. I am glad you are here with me."

"I like that." She turns back to him. "They need that. This messed up family too! Random is trying so hard. Who knew such a little man could contain so much patience and forgiveness. I want us to be a help to him - he's trying to make the universe better. So if he wants Huon here, I can try to make my peace with Huon." She sighs, but forces a smile. "Edan, what is your word for father? Cocuklarimin Papa?"

Edan throws back his head and laughs. "That's very good. No, the word is baba...not very fair, is it? I won't accept the explanation that it is so because men are simpler. Someday, I will take you both to the desert. You'll be speaking and living like a native in no time."

He looks out towards the place where they are to gather, not that he could see their uncle from here. "I saw Huon in Rebma, where he was acting quite well-behaved. I suppose he is aiming for good behavior." He stops there, looking like he was about to say more.

"Can you forgive him trying to kill your father? Assuming he's really done trying, of course?" she asks.

"That's a really complicated question," Edan says. "The answer would be that this is a really strange family. I'm sure you've heard of the history between Corwin and Eric and Julian. If Julian could help put Corwin's eyes out with hot irons, and then the two of them could stand there and share a drink before dinner, then maybe I should rethink the anger I might feel towards Huon. That, and the whole story certainly isn't out yet-- I don't know how much of an ass my father might have been in their encounters." Edan is silent a moment, remembering something long past, and then adds, "It might be different if my father was more concerned about the whole thing. I seem more worried about it than he is, since I am a...softer...target. Worried enough to stage, say, a demonstration to show how difficult I am to kill or maim or kidnap." He smiles and taps his forehead.

Hannah's gentle smile turns sad at that. She reaches for his pointing hand and pulls it down to her stomach. She taps his hand and says quietly, "Suis-je faible? Soft targets abound. I'm going to attempt a direct confrontation that I hope will turn into a negotiation, but my goals have nothing to do with you and your father. While I don't disagree that your skills are like to be persuasive, consider that these old men do seem to believe their word is worth something. Am I wrong?"

"You are not wrong." He strokes her stomach, wondering if the baby notices it. "They place a lot on their word and their oaths. Well, most of them do. Be careful, Hannah. I don't know Huon well enough to know how he will react."

"I am giving him a gift. We will find out if he is wise enough to take it." Her expression is full of doubt in regard to this uncle's wisdom, but humor too. She watches Edan pet her with a heart-sore smile. "I'm sorry I didn't call you before, when your vicious little child had room to kick and flip around. You would have been in awe." She shakes her head.

"Are you going to train on the outskirts of the forest? Or in shadow? Do you want me to try to wrangle a medic to go with you?" she asks.

"If you have one, I wouldn't say no," Edan says. "The army is gathering at the outer edge of the forest, where I can still work with the stuff of Shadow." He sighs as they get close to the Order's procession. "I know that you are hoping for a quick birth, but I will be hoping for it to happen late enough that I will be nearby."

"There is nothing for you to do but feel helpless, because No Magic. Therefore, you should stay down here, seeing to your duty, protecting the men you already have by finding more, making political friends and merchant friends who can make everything easier. These things don't tend to be quick, so likely you'll get your wish. But even when you are back up at the palace, find something more constructive to do than pace." She gives him a look.

"Constructive," she emphasizes. "Like, talk to your father about fatherhood. Or let Gerard take his frustrations, which mostly have nothing to do with us, out on you. Or find out more about these monks who might want to steal your child. Like that. Or write a lullaby. Or all those things." She stops to breathe, but then goes on. "And if I don't get to be at the family meeting take actual good notes for me. I missed the last one. I really wanted to be in this one. In all these ways, you can help me."

"There is nothing you have said that is unreasonable," Edan says. "I'll have to speak to my father before tomorrow, in any event. Gerard, I suppose, would be next. The rest you have mentioned, that will take time... though I'd rather wage war across the universe than face Gerard's wrath."

Hannah smiles. "I'll take Gerard then. He is just frightened because he thinks there is a curse on Rilga's female line and he is a protective bear." She pats his hand reassuringly and finally lets him go, though she turns a little more so she can play with his hair. "The colors in your hair are just unreal. I would love to know how it pigments like that."

Edan nods. "I didn't mean I wouldn't talk to Gerard, of course. Only that I know the conversation probably wouldn't be enjoyable." He leans his head back against her hand. "The hair, the eyes, my affinity for heat, they are all marks of the afrit. I am only quarter-afrit, but the blood has bred true. Besides my appearance, I am as strong as any of them. Stronger. I would almost say my father planned it that way."

For just a moment, Hannah can't keep her middling opinion of Bleys off her face. She puts it away quickly, though. "Planning for a strong child isn't the worst sin; even if he meant to have you for an heir, should he have won the throne, you have to admire his organizational skills. As for the gifts of the Afrit, that's what they are. Frightened people say it is a curse, but it isn't. I wouldn't mind at all if this child has your eyes. They just make you more interesting. As for this hair... it must be chemical, somehow..." her eyes search his head and her smile comes sneaking back. "The pheomelanin all slips to the bottom, or it is the eumelanin rising. I will theorize the heat burns the pheonelanin out of the top of your hair. Do other Afrit have different hair colors, or is it all black?"

"It's whatever they want it to be. But mostly red or black," Edan says. "Illusion is common, so it is hard to tell. Most adopt a male form and all, um," and he flexes his biceps. It would probably look more serious were he not crossing his eyes.

Noise catches her ear and she turns to see how close they are now. Her nose scrunches up in disappointment. "I'm going to have to share you again." She looks back at him and quirks a smile. "Try not to get engaged before I see you next," she teases.

His smile matches hers. "I will try," he says. "Promise. And when we meet again, you can either introduce our child or tell me more of this you-melon-something in my hair."


Silhouette follows Corwin's lead, allowing him to guide her through the estate. She knows being fashionably late would irk her mother most grandly, so wasn't eager to hurry their journey. Her hand remains lightly upon his arm as they walk, fingers fluttering against his wrist like butterfly wings. Conscious or no, she wears the mask of ignorance to this intimate touch.

The voices reach them soon enough, directing them the remaining way to the gathering. Upon seeing the tightly-woven groups of family -- known and unknown -- she turns her head to Corwin.

"Do you have any idea of what to expect this evening?" she asks. "I'd be most grateful for any advice on social protocol. And forgive me. but what exactly are we celebrating? I arrived most late to the party, as it were."

Corwin leads Silhouette through the crowd of people walking down the hill and the carriages on the switchback trail. If she's feeling adventurous and her shoes are flat enough, he'll help her cut through and they can walk straight down, getting there faster than the three-quarters of an hour or so it would take walking the trail. Some young people are taking the straight descent as well; most of the older people are walking, riding, or going in carriages.

After so much time in the liquid medium of Rebma, this airy city is a blessed relief to Silhouette. She remains near the edge, taking advantage of the vantage point to view the city proper. Her hand tightens upon his wrist from time to time, but her pace rarely slows,

To the extent that she requires assistance in the crowd or on the descent, his grip is not nominal. But he's enough of a known figure, or maybe his blade is, that people give him a clear berth a lot of the time.

"Tonight," Corwin says, "we're 'celebrating' the introduction of the Order of the Lamp, the new order of knights Random founded to honor Edan, and probably to round things out for Amber and Xanadu. Which reminds me that I need to do the same--but that's a story for another evening. But tonight is a military demonstration."

This wins Corwin a genuine smile from her, but she allows him to continue without comment.

"Tomorrow is less a celebration, though there'll be one, and more of a family meeting, of the initiates. The celebration will be drinking the health of Vialle--" Corwin decides nobody is close enough and adds, quietly, "--and the child to come--" before resuming his normal volume "--but the rest will be exchanging all the things we've learned about the monks and the Moonriders and everything else people need to know and putting it all together. And then we'll decide who goes where and does what as is best fitted to needs and talents."

Silhouette nods in understanding. "I see. Good. Despite the adherence to pomp and circumstance, I am most eager to discuss the matters at hand."

She tilts her head, dropping her voice, "Will the child have a claim upon Rebma? Vialle is of the Bloodline, is she not?"

"Of the Rebman bloodline? Distantly, maybe? I don't know who the direct heir is if we count in the female line from Moire, or even from Moins. Since Celina has been accepted as Queen, if she doesn't nominate someone, I expect it'll fall on the horn of the Unicorn again. May that day be far distant." Corwin makes a reflexive sign over his chest and looks mildly chagrined when he realizes what he's done. "Sorry; spend a few centuries in Shadow and you can pick up all kinds of bad habits," he adds by way of explanation.

"Anyhow, Martin's daughter will have a more direct claim; his mother was Moire's daughter."

Silhouette smiles playfully, nodding. "Now, I must wonder what other bad habits you've picked up in Shadow."

Her brow rises, some inner thought passing over her stony features. "And what, if any, allegiance does Martin have to his grandmother? She is likely still at large, after all. From the whispers I've heard - the benefits of being s seamstress - she still possesses enough support to do so. An apparent 'legitimate' heir is a potential rallying point." A sigh escapes her lips, "Forgive me. I'm most terribly dull with my constant tugging of strings. A habit mother could never wrest from me."

"Family gossip is a staple of these things. Martin was on the outs with his grandmother for a long time before I met him and nothing Random has said, or Martin, for what it's worth, suggests that has changed. This is the first time we've seen his and Folly's daughter in Xanadu. They chose to raise her in Shadow. And," Corwin adds, "it's no surprise she still has allies. Celina is young and untried by our standards. It's wise for her to gather her own allies."

Silhouette smiles, "Your daughter may be young, but she is formidable. And she is well liked among many noblewomen. I think her main weakness is her heart. It is too kind for a crown." SHe sighs faintly, squeezing his arm. "I worry for her sometimes. And I am not one to worry. In my previous life, I believed a weak noble endangered the Grand Design. Their inevitable fall only benefited Progress. But now... I am not so certain.

"I only wish Celina would allow me to provide her with the tools she needs to weather the coming storm. But I must trust her judgement. She is my... Queen."

Corwin looks at Silhouette, really looks at her, and says, "And she's my daughter, so of course I want her to succeed."

Silhouette meets his gaze, guileless. "Of course. As any good father should. Perhaps together we can guide her toward success and, more importantly, survival. Rebma will progress better with her than without." A slight breath, before she adds, "And I owe her much."

Her features soften, "Is it against Family etiquette to inquire about her mother?"

Corwin is hard to read, but he shakes his head in the negative at Silhouette's question. "You can always ask, though I reserve the right not to answer."

Silhouette nods, her gaze unflinching. "Did she have the opportunity to know her daughter? From what I've seen of the Family, the non-Blooded are... ephemeral in our lives. By choice or circumstance."

Corwin is genuinely difficult to read, but he's obviously surprised at Silhouette's question. "You don't know? Moire is her mother. Moire sent her away to one of the shells to be raised as a foundling, and returned her to court as her ward. I didn't know about Celina's existence until I met her as an adult--unfortunately uncommon in this family."

Silhouette offers a faint nod, "Yes, this explains much about her behavior. Celina, I mean. To be torn between family and the throne. The need to impress ones mother - a story I know well. This will make certain choices much more difficult in the future, I suspect. A pity, truly."

She looks at him plainly, "And you, uncle? How will you weather the storm to come?"

Corwin says, "I'll do what's necessary for the good of Paris, and the family." Which sounds like it's a quote or an aphorism, and not an entirely happy one. "Probably leading chin-first with my luck."

Silhouette smiles playfully, "Well, it is a strong chin. I'm certain you'll endure."


After Hannah and Edan dismount from the carriage and before he takes his place at the head of the column, Edan takes a moment to look around. It was not his intention to do this any time soon, but it has to be done, and after the talk with Hannah Edan realizes that sooner is probably better than later. So he looks among the river of people heading to the spectator section, hoping to catch Gerard before the Elder gets settled.

Gerard has a couple of Amber navy men with him who are, Edan quickly realizes, there to help the chair Gerard is restricted to. They move obstacles, redirect people, and occasionally appear ready to help pick the chair up and move it over obstacles, which is why they're large fellows. They are clearly under Gerard's command and fall back when Edan approaches to give Gerard a bit of privacy.

"The star of the evening's festivities," Gerard says, eyeing Edan's costume. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere getting ready?"

"I am, that," Edan says. If his own tone sounds hesitant, it is because he hasn't yet gauged Gerard's mood from his words or non-verbal cues. "But I needed to talk to you first, and even a crowd can be a good place for a private word. Or, maybe, an apology."

"I don't know why you think you need to apologize," Gerard says, looking phlegmatic as he always does, "unless maybe it's for not making the walk down to the city so friendly as it might have been. Which was Cambina's job in Amber, but nobody really knows how to do it in Xanadu, I think. I should have come down on someone's Trump instead. Anyroad, walk with me a little ways, and tell me what you think you should be sorry for."

Edan lets them get a little distance before he says, "Well, I was unaware that you were Hannah's... patron? Is that the word? Not until recently. Hannah and I have dwelt in different shadows, and there have been some time differences, but we met on the Blue Earth some months ago."

"Technically in her mother's absence, in Amber she'd be my ward, but she's a woman grown and a proven member of the family. I can't stand in her father's place because she's got one, so if it's her father you want, you need to speak to him. But I'm her mother's brother and I reckon I'm closer to responsible to her than Julian. But she's also my doctor now so that runs both ways." Gerard is not entirely sure where this is going, so he's watching Edan as he speaks, trying to gauge which bit Edan focuses on.

Edan raises an eyebrow. "Well, her father knows this, I think, he was in the shadow when we met. Like I said, we have been in different shadows and this is the first time I have seen Hannah since we met on the Blue Earth. About nine months ago, for her." He pauses to gauge a reaction. "As her...guardian...I feel as though I should have talked to you sooner about it. Things kept getting in the way."

"Ah, I see, I think. If you're square with Hannah for your long absence, you're square with me," Gerard says. "But if you're unkind to her, or don't take a fair share in raising your child when it's born--which could be any second now from the look of things--then we'll have to talk. The little ones need their parents and it all too often falls on the women in this family."

"That," Edan says, "I'm not worried about. Campaigns and training aside, I've just put serious roots down here. I'll usually be around to help. And every reason to be the soul of kindness."

Gerard nods as he takes all that in. "Hannah has her mother's finer qualities, and sense that must come from her pa, because she didn't get it from her ma, or from Dad for that matter. Dad didn't want her ma to be a Ranger. No offense to Jules, but Ysabeau would've been a good one, and a fine Warden if Dad had seen fit to let her take the task on. But I think Hannah's had a better relationship with her own father than that, and I think a better relationship with you than her ma had with her sire," he says. "Or Solange's. I took Solange in never knowing who'd sired her. I'm glad you'll be there for Hannah."

Edan has a slow smile that before now only Hannah and perhaps Bleys has seen. "This. This is what I missed, coming in late to this Family," he says. "Stories of Family, stories of the past. Father told me of all of you, but his was only one telling, and I missed so much. Someday, when there is more time, I would like to sit down and hear more." He turns his head to glance over in the direction of where he is to be, and adds, "I am the one with the temper. Hannah is one of the most even-minded people I have met. She leads with her brain, not with her sword-arm. I am sure she can take care of herself- but I will still keep two eyes on her and the baby, as often as I can spare them."

"That's good to hear -- and when you have time, I'll welcome you to sit by the fire and hear all sorts of stories about my brothers and sisters and Dad," Gerard says. "Now off with you so we can applaud your knights." He offers an avuncular clasp.

Edan takes it. "Thank you, uncle," he says. "I'll see you in the morning, if not sooner."


Back to the logs

Last modified: 14 August 2017