Library Fun, Part Six

[Random enters -- Jerod & Cambina]

Jerod looks up from his conversation with Cambina to observe the new arrivals. He does not rise to bow as normally would be expected in a Court situation (must not be a Court situation then) but remains seated. He takes in the dress of both of them, and makes a note of the make-up for Vialle (and is curious as to what she is covering up). He does nod an acknowledgement of his Uncle's arrival (that's just being polite) but does nothing more.

Cambina also looks over to acknowledge Random and Vialle's arrival.

"Which means it's only a matter of time before Bleys finds out, assuming he doesn't know already." Jerod says. "That's certainly not going to help with the social situation I suspect. Being at the camp, it will at least take a little bit of time to get to the city folk. Though I'm not sure I'd like to see how much that little piece of gossip will mutate before it gets to town."

He looks back at her directly. "You never did reply about Brita. Are you saying you do not remember your comments about her?"

"What, about Father and when he brought me to court? How was I to know it'd send her scurrying off towards Fiona? It wasn't that rough..."

"No. You said something about Julian being fond of her and something about him being sad concerning her. There was a past tense feel concerning her name, like she wasn't around, or she might be dead." Jerod says. "You had that distant look you get when you have one of your visions."

Cambina drinks a large portion of her whiskey sour, and frowns. "I hoped they'd stopped," she says, unhappily.

"Are you not aware when they come?" Jerod asks, looking at her drink. He does not move to replace though...he is more concerned about his sister than approaching the bar, and possibly getting snagged in "polite small talk".

"Paige has a gift," Cambina says. "She only sees the future when she wants to."

"A gift, or a curse." Jerod whispers. Then, in a louder voice, but still only for her to hear, "How often do these visions come true? Since it's in the future, we should be able to change things."

"Do you really believe that? How could anyone who has walked The Pattern believe that? As long as there is a Pattern, every future is both true and false. We can't change anything." Cambina is speaking a little louder than you'd normally expect.

"What I believe is that nothing is outside of one's ability, given enough time." Jerod replies, keeping his voice at an acceptable, and lower, level. "Those who believe they cannot change anything give up their ability to do so. It doesn't mean that things might be easy to change, but it doesn't the future impossible to change." He looks at Cambina very directly. "The question becomes whether we're willing to pay the price to change what we think is going to happen."

Cambina shrugs. "One strives as one will, that's fated, too. Thinking you can change it, or that you are somehow different from every other being, is pretty arrogant. It's a good thing we're an arrogant family. We'd never have survived if we were honest with ourselves."

"Maybe." Jerod says. "I won't argue that at the moment. Nor will I let it distract me from my original question. Do you not remember when you have the visions?"

Cambina shakes her head. "No! If you all didn't tell me about them, I'd have no idea. After a while you get...skilled in not talking about them. In self defense...." Cambina looks into her empty glass.

"Then for Family's sake, I will not inquire into your defenses, unless it becomes absolutely necessary." Jerod says, taking her empty glass and giving her his own, knowing the gesture will not be lost on her (and she knows how much he likes his own very good scotch, and how little he tends to share it with others).

He looks over at the bar momentarily. "Time to see what's up with the King...and to refill your glass. I'll see if I can make my way back here before dinner hits." His expression indicates that is likely to be a difficult prospect.

And with that he heads over to the bar.

[Random enters -- Folly & Corwin]

Before Corwin can respond, Random and Vialle arrive in the library. Folly watches their entrance silently, the expression on her face reflecting amusement, concern, and perhaps just a touch of sadness; but there's a smile behind her eyes, directed more at Random than at Vialle, it seems.

There's a moment's hesitation as Folly considers going to talk to them; but she remembers she's still in the middle of an introduction, so at Random's admonition that the "show's over," she turns her attention back to Corwin.

Corwin also loses a moment glancing at the King and Queen, and when Folly looks back at him he has an indecipherable expression on his face. He, too, turns his attention back to Folly. He takes her hand and bows over it, and says, "Corwin. If it's not too personal of a question, how are we related?"

Folly, perhaps inspired by the King's eclectic attire, is struck by a sudden fit of whimsy. (Corwin may well get the sense that this is not unusual for her.) "Would you care to hazard a guess?" she asks, eyes twinkling.

Corwin scrutinizes Folly's features for a moment, and says, "Caine or Eric, perhaps. Something about you reminds me of-- my mother." He shakes off a touch of melancholy and says, "My mother was considered a very beautiful young woman in her day."

Folly's reaction is difficult to judge: she smiles and blushes faintly, but there's a look of intense concentration as she in turn scrutinizes Corwin's features, almost as if she might divine hidden meanings from the lines of his face. "It's funny," she says after a moment, "most people say I remind them of my mother." She takes a sip of wine, suddenly very glad to have it.

"In truth," she continues after a moment, "your guess is as good as mine. Better, even, as you know your family better than I do." She smiles up at him and wonders whether, when he connects the dots, he'll see the same picture she does.

Corwin takes a moment to think about that. "It could have been any one of my brothers." That it might be him doesn't seem to have crossed his mind.

Folly's mouth quirks into a little half-smile as she makes a dozen mental notes. "I don't suppose it especially matters," she says, "except as a matter of curiosity. It's not like I really need another parent. I'd much rather have an entire family of charming uncles."

"I'm sure we'll all do our best to oblige you," says Corwin. "But my sister Flora isn't likely to be charming to any woman who wears tall boots to formal dinner."

Folly grins at that. "I'd say my attire is entirely compatible with the tone set by our illustrious host, wouldn't you?" She doesn't seem too concerned by what Flora might think.

"But -- forgive me -- I'm being terribly rude," she adds suddenly. "You've given me a song, and I've offered you nothing in return." She inclines her head toward the lute. "Shall I?"

"Of course," says Corwin and hands her the lute.

Folly takes it, tunes it a bit, and pauses to reflect on what she should play. She quickly decides that for Corwin, she needs something catchy, upbeat and visceral, but with an undercurrent melancholy. She settles on a jazzy variation of one of the many fine songs of hope and hardship in the immigrant tradition.

The tune is audible all over the library, but Folly keeps the volume low to minimize disruptions to others' conversations.

Corwin is clearly pleased by the tune. "Sometime we will have to play together. In a more suitable setting, of course."

"I'd like that," Folly says, and means it.

He looks at Vialle and Ossian moving across the room. "But I shouldn't monopolize you; I'm sure you have many other things to do before dinner."

Folly also looks at Vialle. "Not the least of which is to figure out who got stuck with my old room, so I can see about swapping doors."

Corwin offers to escort Folly back to the group, leaving the lute behind.

[Random enters -- Solange, Ossian]

Solange notices the newcomers, taking in the details of Random's outfit -- //damn, I overdressed// -- and Vialle's makeup (tear tracks? stress zits? perhaps the hint of a bruise?), and says, "It would probably be a kindness to go talk to Martin right now."

Ossian laughs (not very loud) at Random's comment, and furrows his brow when seeing Vialle's condition. Other that that, no reaction.

"A kindness to rescue him from Princess Llewella?" Ossian asks mockingly "Let's go then, shall we?"

"I was thinking more of delaying his greetings to Their Majesties," Solange says quietly. "I spent five years as The Regent's Daughter, I have some sympathy for him being suddenly put in the role of The King's Son. But yes, let's."

Does Solange take Ossian's arm?

Yes, lightly.

When Solange and Ossian reach their destination, Ossian will kiss Llewella's hand (if she is not too uncomfortable with that, of course)

Llewella and Martin were talking quietly and rather intently as Ossian and Solange approached (apparently bypassing Benedict and Conner, who seem to have paused along the way).

"Greetings, aunt. I am so pleased to meet you." he looks into her eyes. "I'm Ossian."

Solange gives him a quick look out of the corner of her eye -- that was a little forward! She waits a beat, to see if Llewella looks like she's going to snub him for it, and also to see if Martin covers with a more traditional introduction.

Ossian's mouth twitches just a tiny bit. He seems to have planned to be a bit forward, and rather pleased with it.

Llewella looks to Martin, who says, "Ossian is one of cousins, Aunt Llewella; he's an artist. And this is Solange, Uncle Gerard's daughter. Solange, I'm sure you recognize our aunt from her portrait."

Ossian bows a tiny bow.

"Of course," Solange says. "I'm so glad to meet you, Aunt Llewella."

Ossian will then shake Martin's hand.

Martin returns the clasp.

Solange's greetings to Martin will sort of depend on how the earlier interaction played out, so I'm not going to specify yet. As she and Ossian approached Martin and Llewella, however, she was giving Martin a very nice smile -- not just a social one, but one that reached her eyes.

(which, sadly, he seems to have missed ...)

A pity, that. Solange clasps Martin's hand and leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek -- a decorous party kiss, but not an air-kiss -- and says, "Good to see you, Martin. Everything went smoothly on your journey, I hope?"

Martin smiles, genuinely pleased to see her. "It was tiring, but otherwise trouble-free." He pushes his hair back from his face. "Listen, Solange, Conner's dragging Benedict over here in the hopes of milking some information out of him about a back door out of Rebma. Can I beg your indulgence for a few moments while we iron that out?"

"Sure," Solange says. "Ossian, I think my glass could stand refilling. Can we get you anything, Aunt Llewella? Martin?"

Ossian shrugs and empties his glass.

Llewella says, "A glass of the white, please, Solange; thank you."

Martin takes a look at the bar and says, "I'll pass, thanks, unless there's coffee I missed."

"With or without Jameson's?" Solange says with a grin.

Ossian will take Llewella's glass if allowed.

Ossian is bound to utter this small comment Solange on the short way to the bar (before Random and Vialle enters)

"It is always pleasant to know that one is still considered a security problem." the lack of bitterness in Ossian's voice is striking.

[Random enters -- Conner, Llewella, Martin & Benedict]

Conner looks to the door as they enter with a shake of his head for Random's attire and statements and a musing look at Vialle's makeup. The look turns to bemusement as Solange and Ossian swish by to talk with Llew and Martin. He looks up to Benedict. "Looks I like we wait a moment before joining the others. Did any of my findings sound familiar to you?"

"Harga'rel ... ah, yes, I recall him." Benedict looks a little less dour, as if part of the shrouding around this mystery has vanished from before him. "I believe I know the place you mean, but it may have changed a great deal during the war. The battles you mention are unknown to me."

"Can you tell me the origin or purpose of the tunnel?" Conner asks.

"Sadly, no," says Benedict, looking over at Martin and Llewella.

Conner nods. "Guess I'll save the rest of the questions for the group talk." Conner smiles patiently waiting for Llewella and Martin to free themselves before approaching.

As Solange and Ossian head towards the bar, Martin catches Conner's eye and nods.

Conner smiles. "Looks like we have a clear line to our positions. Shall we?" Conner says leading the way over.

Benedict and Conner join Martin and Llewella. Llewella says, "Solange and Ossian are fetching us drinks." She glances at Martin, as if, perhaps, expecting him to say something, but he turns his attention to Conner.

"Gives us a few minutes." Conner nods. "Benedict remembers the tunnel." Conner to his Uncle. "How did you learn about it?" Conner asks.

Benedict thinks about it for a moment, and says, "I'm afraid I don't recall. At a certain age, one starts to lose things, and memory is one of the first things to go."

"And you've forgotten what the second thing is." Conner quips. "Do you recall taking Martin through it and why you chose that way?"

Benedict looks at Martin, glances sidewise to the bar, where Random and Vialle are standing, and says in a measured voice, "I do. It was a way I knew out of Rebma that did not go by Amber."

There is an uncomfortable moment in which Llewella looks studiously at the book she set down on the arm of her chair when Conner joined her, Martin looks at Benedict, and Benedict doesn't seem to be looking at much of anything.

Martin breaks the silence by saying, "Listen, I owe Solange a few minutes of my time from before my precipitous departure to help bring the army home. Why don't I go catch up with her now and you guys can grab me later if you need anything more from me?" He kisses his aunt's cheek and offers his hand to both of the men before beating a retreat to the bar. Benedict accepts the clasp, but says nothing.

Benedict looks at Conner as if to invite the next question.

"Any idea how well known this tunnel was in Rebma?" Conner asks.

"I had not thought it was well known. But I have not been in Rebma for some years now, so it may have become more widely known, or forgotten," Benedict says.

"The Tritons seem to have built their neighborhood around it and at least one knew we might be heading for it as it was guarding it." COnner muses. "I wish I'd gotten a better look at the tattoos on its face. I'm sure that's a key."

"I know little of the Tritons," says Benedict. "Perhaps Gerard, or, more likely, Caine, knows something of them. Caine has long dealt with matters of the sea." He glances over to where Gerard and Caine are speaking.

"Then that is the next Uncle I shall seek out." Conner smiles. "Thank you for your time. Its appreciated."

"You're welcome," says Benedict. "If you will excuse me, Llewella, Conner." and he turns and heads back towards the door, in the general direction of both Lilly and Reid.

[Random enters -- Vere, Caine, Gerard; Random, Vialle, Solange, Ossian]

As Vere is finishing this preliminary report, and before either Caine or Gerard has a chance to respond, the door opens and Their Majesties enter the library.

Caine says, "Thank you, Vere."

Vere observes them without expression, nothing given away the intense interest with which he is examining the body language between Random and Vialle, determining exactly what is going on behind Vialle's makeup, and watching for Random's reaction to everyone else in the room, particularly purple-haired musical nieces currently being chatted up by Corwin....

Random, Vialle on his arm, seems intent on navigating to the bar. As it is close to the door, he succeeds admirably. Random clearly took in the lay of the room as he walked, and you are unsure if he paused slightly to see Corwin playing a mandolin for Folly or if you merely wondered if he would pause slightly at the sight. Random and Vialle arrive at the bar and he says "Evening, Solange, Ossian."

"Hi, Uncle Random, Vialle," Solange says. "How are you?"

"Hi" Ossian adds.

Random deftly makes a drink, a tall, clear mixed drink with bubbles and a slice of lime. "Busy! Coming back has been more work than fighting the war. There's so much to do that neither one of us is sleeping well. I'd like to take about a month off, just to catch up on my sleep."

Vialle takes the beverage from her husband and holds it with both hands.

"I'm not surprised," Solange says. "It took, what, eleven of us to keep it running while you were gone? And now you're trying to catch up on five years in a week? Just let me know if there's anything you want me to do."

Solange also sneaks a closer look at Vialle's makeup job now that she's right next to her.

Vialle normally wears no makeup (seeing as how she can't apply it) and so any makeup looks a little heavy on her to Solange's eyes. To Solange she looks a little tired, and she definitely has something under her eyes to conceal circles.

Solange makes a mental note that Vialle's lady's maid needs practice.

"Already restless, cousin?" Ossian says, "Don't worry, Uncle, I guess most of us are willing to help you out. Though many, myself included, are kind of bored to death with all this administration stuff."

"Here, here," says Random. "But I was planning on just doing the figurehead thing and letting you kids do the actual work." He flashes Solange that grin again. "So who wants to be the power behind the throne?"

Solange grins back -- she can't see Random's grin and NOT return it, that's just the sort of smile he has. "Not me," she says. "Isn't 'behind the throne' where people leave nasty surprises, like bombs, or something worse, like a set of bagpipes?"

If Vere can overhear this from where he's standing -- for all I know, he's located the "whispering gallery" foci of the library ages ago -- he would be aware that Solange isn't so much trying to insult him as she's just riffing off one of a series of bagpiper jokes that she collects to tease him with.

And over in the corner, where he stands listening intently to the conversation between Gerard and Caine, Vere smiles quietly for no apparent reason....

"I try to stay away from the heavy ordnance," she concludes.

"I don't want the power of the man behind the throne either." Ossian says as he pours a glass of water for himself. "As for who would want it one can only speculate."

It's at this point that Martin arrives. "Dad," he says with some warmth, and "Vialle," with what seems noticeably less warmth to Ossian. He nods pleasantly at Ossian and Solange.

Random looks Martin up and down and says approvingly, "I knew you'd dress appropriately for the solemnity of the occasion."

"Thanks, Dad," says Martin. "I like the shirt. How'd you keep it fresh?"

"I know a trick or two, kiddo. What's your pleasure?"

Martin grins at Solange. "The lovely lady was bringing me a coffee, actually, thanks, Dad."

[There is in fact a small samovar at the bar. The servants have had more than five years to get used to Martin's love for coffee and its related beverages.]

(Although, until Solange and Jerod got back from the Land of Peace with a cargo of the Sacred Beans, the supplies were very limited. )

Solange reaches for the Jameson's, and adds a generous dollop to the coffee that she'd poured while she was talking to Random.

"No whipped cream before dinner. It'll spoil your appetite," she says cheerfully to Martin as she hands him the coffee.

"As if that were possible," says Vialle. It doesn't quite sound like a reproach, but Ossian can tell it annoys Martin that she says so.

"Don't worry, Your Majesty," Martin says, "I'll finish my greens like a good boy." And there's something of a challenge in that, too, although Ossian can't quite tell what it is.

"Well, I'm not going to. I hate greens. I'm the King of Amber and I don't have to eat my greens if I don't want to," comments Random, and Ossian can tell it wasn't the right thing to say although he has no idea quite why.

Martin turns back to Solange and says, "Solange, didn't I promise you before I left that I'd catch up with you about that Garnath business as soon as possible?"

"That's right, you did," Solange agrees, pouring a glass of wine. "Let me just bring Aunt Llewella the glass of wine she wanted, and then you can bring me up to date. I'm sure we don't need to bore His Majesty" -- she says those last two words with a dazzling grin, so Random knows she's being mock-formal rather than stuffy -- "with a story I'm sure he's already heard."

"I'll take the glass of wine to her." Ossian offers. "I still haven't even shaken hands with Uncle Benedict."

Random says, "Hey, why don't I take that glass of wine over to Llewella, Solange? I have to make the ceremonial rounds anyway; might as well start there. Vialle, why don't you sit down? I know you're tired so there's no point in promenading around with me. Ossian, will you help the Queen?"

"Of course, dear Uncle." Ossian says, with perhaps a little too strained smile.

Vialle says, "That would be very kind of you, Ossian." And she sounds a little shaky, for all that she was sharp with Martin a moment before.

"Thanks," Solange says, handing the glass of wine over to Random. "Sitting down sounds like a good idea to me, too -- especially if this is going to be a long explanation, Martin." Not reproachful. Maybe a little resigned.

"Oh, it may not be as bad as you think," says Martin. He offers Solange his arm, says, "Dad, Vialle," and nods politely to Ossian.

Ossian nods back and takes Vialle's arm.

"So. We shall find a pleasant place to sit." Ossian lowers his voice, only for Vialle to hear "You might want to know how people are spread out in the room."

"If I can pair together the faces with the portraits here it is as follows: In one corner Jerod and Cambina seems to have a private conversation. Solange and Martin is walking away to another corner, as you heard. Your husband is aiming for Conner, Benedict and Llewella, but Benedict just left the other two, heading for the big group of Flora, Paige, Lilly and Merlin. He seems not to have an easy time right now, by the way." Ossian stops to take a breath

"The occasional music comes from Corwin and Folly, who seems to have fun together. Fiona and Brita have broken off from the big group of Aisling, Lucas, Reid and Bleys and a new guy. Caine and Gerard are discussing something, while Vere listens."

"I spot two nice chairs over by Fiona and Brita. I suggest we occupy them."

"Yes, please," says Vialle. "I'm afraid I won't be very good company, though."

"I can't see why you wouldn't be. I'm never bored in your presence."

Vere lets the major portion of his attention return to his Father and Caine, and he quietly waits to see if Caine wishes to continue their conversation, or if Random's entrance will prove to be more interesting to him.

Caine and Gerard begin a conversation about naval officers: who survived the battle, who deserves promotion, etc.

Vere assumes the "dutiful and attentive son" face that served him well in his mother's court, and anyone looking over would be convinced that he is listening intently to his father and uncle's conversation. And, in point of fact, he is, although he is also continuing to follow everything else that is going on in the room....

Caine and Gerard continue on for some time. You get the feeling that they are working out a rough set of fleet assignments. Caine has an excellent grasp on the state of the fleet as it was, and Gerard seems to be willing to agree with his suggestions. Caine seems to lean towards Captains and senior officers who were at the battle. Gerard mentions a few names, mostly people who have distinguished themselves during the regency.

Since it appears that he is being relieved of a responsibility he never wanted in the first place, Vere will remain silent throughout the discussion, lest any contributions from him jinx the process and result in him being given an official position with the fleet.

[Random enters -- Lilly & Flora; Paige & Merlin]

The King arrives before their conversation can proceed. Lilly eyes him, and his queen closely. Now, more then ever, Random's laid back style is very apparent. She also notices that the Queen appears blind. This was something previously unknown to her. It made her wonder what other interesting surprises the night would hold.

At about the same time that Random and Vialle enter the library, Paige and Merlin reach Flora and Lilly.

Paige regards Their Majesties with a quick, _I'm definitely over-dressed_ smile and almost imperceptible shake of her head. Her eyes are drawn to Vialle's demeanor and body language for an explanation of the mishap, but makes no comment on it to her aunt or cousins.

Flora turns to look at the newcomers and says, "Merlin. I'm pleased that you and your father managed to find your way all the way home."

Merlin replies, "Trumps are very helpful in that respect, Aunt Florimel. May I introduce my teacher in that Art, my cousin Paige, the daughter of Prince Bleys?"

Flora perks up at this and looks Paige over with some interest.

"Aunt Florimel, it's my pleasure to finally meet you." Paige smiles and nods at her aunt with genuine sincerity. "It's much harder to live up to the standards of the kingdom's legendary beauty when she's absent from the realm," she adds with a chuckle.

Flora smiles at Paige approvingly. Paige thinks she understands the outrageous flattery for exactly what it is and takes it as her due. "Thank you, dear. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Lilly, I hope you didn't run into any problems securing your present?" Paige asks in passing.

"None at all, thank you." Lilly says with a meek smile. Standing between Flora and Paige was a rather humbling experience. It made her wish, for not the first time in her life, that she had that sort of beauty. Still, she pushed that feeling aside quickly. In her heart she knew that beauty was truly of small importance especially in her line of work.

Paige catches Lilly's concern and quick dismissal, noting it for further discussion, definitely out of Aunt Flora's earshot.

Flora has been watching Random and Vialle as they walk by and head to the bar. Random acknowledges them with a high-wattage grin. Flora waits until they are out of earshot before giving in to her instinct to tsk.

Merlin is looking about at the wide variety of dress styles people have chosen for dinner and clearly trying to make some sense of it all.

Paige looks to Flora's outfit and smiles, "I'm so glad I didn't dress traditionally... Between you and Solange, I would've never garnered any attention this evening."

A look of doubt crosses Lilly's features. Somehow it seemed obvious that cousin Paige always got the attention she needed.

"Perhaps next time His Majesty should specify the appropriate dress code for family dinners, especially for those who are new to them," Paige continues. "The Regency Council met more often than not over dinner, a working meal if you will and we normally wore whatever the day's duties had called for."

"Of course that sort of decree would've deprived us of this lovely outfit of Lilly's, no?" Paige baits.

Lilly takes that question as a question. Anything Paige might have been implying with it is seemingly lost on her for the moment. "Perhaps. I tend to much less traditional dress. On the other hand, I'm not sure trousers would ever be acceptable for dinner. They certainly were not where I was raised."

"Tell me Paige, I have never seen a dress such as they one you are wearing. From where does it come?" Lilly asks. There is a large part of her that wants to tack on a and how does it stay up? at the end of that but she manages to refrain.

"Aunt Flora could tell you much more of the fashion of her Shadow Earth, cousin. I lived there only for parts of but three centuries... the first I was too young to consider my own dress and for the last much of my time was shared between there and Amber. This was a rather modern fashion last I visited, something one might wear to a gala party or to make a grand first impression." Paige doesn't add, _Or to try and recover from the wrong first impression._

"A little West Coast for me, Paige, but you carry it off well. I prefer more traditional dress in Amber." Flora smiles. She turns to Lilly and says "Boning," in response to the unspoken question. "I think Lilly looks quite chic, actually. It's about time for Amber fashion to go minimalist; Lilly may become quite the style-setter."

Merlin looks like he's trying to figure a way out of the fashion conversation.

"True, I suppose East Coast works a bit better for a more mature look," Paige agrees.

If Flora is annoyed by the idea of being "mature", Paige can't tell.

"As to the minimalist trend, more work's been done with women's rights than hemlines in the last five years, but I whole-heartedly agree, Aunt. Perhaps it's like silk lingerie," Paige suggests.

She elaborates for Lilly, "If you feel sexy, even if no one can see it, you are sexy."

Lilly has no desire to be sexy, or to feel sexy, or to even have sex for that matter. Or at least no desire she would acknowledge. Still she finds this idea of hemlines correlating to the rites of women intriguing. "What you are implying then cousin is that there is an inverse relation between a women's rights and her clothing. The more clothing, the less rights... interesting theory."

"Rights or rites?" asks Merlin. The question seems to interest him far more than the fashion discussion. The lingerie references, while not lost on him, are a subject he does not wish to explore.

"Not rites as in ceremony, but as in opportunity," Paige says. "I'm not exactly saying that less clothing gives a woman more freedom, in fact with less clothing a man is often more likely to give a woman less respect than she deserves. What I was trying to suggest was that if the common Amberite woman could throw off a bit of traditional clothes, she could throw off that traditional yoke she wears, too."

She continues, "The idea that women are for nothing more than cooking, cleaning and heirs is antiquated. If women such as yourself can command men in the greatest war that Amber's seen, why can't the common woman have a place in the city guard? It's only within the last few years that, if you weren't a Royal, a woman could call a gift like that sword her own. Property of signifigance? The husband's possession."

"And we need the support of smart women, influential woman, like Viscountess Wonder, Lady Hardwind, even Lady Vesper to lead the way," _Women who look up to you, Aunt Flora._

All of this was very interesting to Lilly. While she had always hoped for a man who would see her as something more then a housemaid and childbearer, she never truly believed it could be so. With that in mind, she nods along as Paige speaks. "I have no intention of giving up my sword to fit into Amber society. Indeed I plan on pledging it to the King. That may not go over well but it is as it needs to be."

"As I said, you're a Royal," Paige shrugs. "Not everyone has the honor to be born of the blood, no matter how randy our Grandfather was."

The daughter of the Smith understands this. Or at least she understands the part about being born of the blood.

"Unfortunately, the fact is most people in Amber aren't family, and they have rights under the Crown law. All I'm asking is why the women don't have the same as the men. The Regency's proven that we're as able as our male cousins, that we're Powers in our own right. Shouldn't the same comparison prove out for the noble wives and their husbands? The only difference is that they've been taught that they can't... that they "don't have a head for such things". Foolishness, if you ask me," Paige offers calmly.

"If it's that such rights and, in my mind, common decency, only apply to family, I'd like someone to tell me why I spent the last five years toiling to save worthless Shadows," she finishes. "And I want my five years back, too."

Merlin has muttered a quiet "excuse me," in the middle of all this and slipped away to join Brennan, almost unnoticed.

Paige lays a hand on his arm and offers a parting smile.

"Well, Lilly," says Flora, "are you such a firebrand as your cousin?"

The arguments, both pro and con, that were forming in Lilly's mind quietly filed themselves into their proper compartments for use later. With something of a sly look she then replies, "I have been told on numerous occasions that I am my father's daughter." And leaves it firmly at that.

Lilly looks over to see her father crossing the room. Noting his movement towards Reid, she inwardly smiles.

"It was wonderful speaking with you both, but if you'll excuse me, I'd like a quick word with Uncle Corwin."

"I should be off as well Aunt Florimel. I have yet to greet my father this evening." With a bow of the head, Lilly moves towards her father, Reid, and the others (?) in their group.