After the second set of dances, the orchestra retires and is replaced by a second orchestra of approximately the same size. Those who have observed the composition of the various musical ensembles around the Hall and the side rooms probably nod knowingly at the composition of the new group.
When they strike up the first tune, and Random leads Vialle out to the dance floor, there is a moment of shock as the King turns his wife to face him and puts his arm around her waist. The rhythm is all wrong, too: 3/4 time.
Paige recognizes the Blue Danube at once.
Second on the floor, right behind the King and Queen, are the Shepherd and Shepherdess. The most observant may think Solace is new to this dance, but Lucas is masterful and she is a good enough dancer to pick up the routine quickly.
Third are the black-and-silver Harlequin and the lovely Lady Sun. Those nearest Flora can hear her say, laughing, "Let us show them how this dance is done, brother."
Death finds his maiden in the form of a rather androgynous bishop and they follow their siblings onto the floor.
A white-winged figure strides purposefully towards one of the garden doors, followed swiftly but gracefully by a devilish figure in red. The Hermit, whose missing forearm would make it difficult to lead in this dance, retires to the back of the room near the charioteer.
After a moment of searching through the crowd, the Black Swan finds the White, and whispers to her. The response to his query being satisfactory, he leads her onto the floor and they join the dancers.
[It is reasonable that any of the royal gentlemen and ladies who have travelled will know the waltz, and may lead their ladies out to join this dance. Let us know who you want to dance with. Ladies, if you want to play Sadie Hawkins, this is a great moment to solicit a partner.]
Most of the gentlemen and ladies of Amber are hesitant to attempt the new dance just yet. Perhaps they want to see how the royals do it before leaping in. In any case, there is plenty of room on the floor.
Vere cocks his head in interest as the music begins. The rhythm is familiar, many of the bards of the Isles use this same 3/4 time tempo, but the way the music is constructed is quite novel to him. His fingers begin to move unconsciously as he analyzes the music. After a few seconds he nods decisively and recites quietly:
"No damsel faints when rather closely pressed,
But more caressing seems when most caressed;
Superfluous hartshorn, and reviving salts,
Both banished by the sovereign cordial Waltz."
Gerard nods. "You needn't wait with me if you'd like to try it."
Under his hood Vere raised an eyebrow. "Do you not think I have yet caused enough scandal for the night, Father?" he asks. "Tomorrow the entire city will be discussing who danced this risque new dance with whom."
"I think you're only young once and there's like to be only one coronation in your lifetime, so if you want to dance the waltz, ye damn well should. You should be certain that were I able to dance, I'd have some pretty morsel clasped to me and the old biddies be damned."
Gerard shakes his head in bewilderment. "That ye don't care for fighting has never bothered me, but I do wonder sometimes how a Prince of Amber lets the Harmony Vespers of the world get in the way of his good fun."
There is a brief pause, and then Vere chuckles softly. "An excellent suggestion, Father. By your leave."
Sea green dragon and tawny sphinx pair up once more after a few moments of watching and join the royals in the waltz.
Random and Vialle are definitely well-versed in this dance. Lucas is excellent, and not only knows the dance, but knows appropriate flourishes. Conner suspects that this dance will soon be all the rage and the subject of a great deal of outrage. It is quite... intimate. By Amber tastes. Corwin and Flora also know this dance and are sublime. After a moment, the sphinx grabs your hand. She's ready to try it. "I hope they don't speed it up," she says quietly.
"Knowing the Queen I don't think so." Conner murmurs back. "Knowing the King, who knows?" He grins. "Just follow my lead and trust in the dance." Conner is certainly not as up on his waltzing as the Royal couple but he knows the dance and even manages a flourish or three.
He looks good and makes her look good, but she isn't going to start any conversations. Do you want to talk?
"I wish I were a better augur." Conner murmurs to her as they dance. "I think there is much to be learned in the movement of bird and beast this night." He says letting the dance have them glimpse the swans and wolves.
She is warm and soft against Conner and she follows excellently. The dance is very pleasant.
It is indeed. Thalia can feel Conner's body relax a bit as the dance goes on and his smile is the warm one she sees more than most.
"They were not subtle in their costume choices, no. I agree that much is afoot, but such is the nature of these kinds of events. It will be interesting to see where the bodies are buried tomorrow, assuming they are not ours." She pauses. "Do you think they suspected your origins?"
"Possible." Conner replies. "After the fact they certainly could have put it together considering how fast I healed as such. Before then.." Conner let's the thought trail off. "Did you suspect?" He asks.
"I always knew you were unique and wonderful, and that you had support in certain circles in Amber. But their job was the security in a realm that was not on good terms with Eric. Your Uncle had already made overtures to Harper and me. I assume that had he succeeded, that you would have succeeded Droit in short order? Your uncle and mother have always been excellent planners."
"My role in that alternate future is unknown to me and I've never been curious enough to ask." Conner replies with a smile. "But it may have been so. I presume Gateway would have had risen to a high place in that instance."
"Gateway always intends to have the best position possible, and make it so if she can. She understands that her friends understand that. We're a friendly place."
The Angel of the Sun glances around the room, looking for a likely partner. A few gliding steps bring her close to the Otter.
"My lord Otter," she says, "would you do me the honor of waltzing with me?"
He listens for just a moment with cocked head and careful ear. "I could not resist the opportunity, so suddenly sun- struck am I," he says. It's fairly obvious that he doesn't really recognize her except as another party-goer, but it's a little less noticable under that that he's just hoping he got the beat right for the dance.
He admires the dress more with with mental hands, rather than merely with his eyes. (As if he were running mental hands over it...)
Not having escorted anyone, Jerod takes the opportunity to back up and watch for a moment, interested to see and hear (who says what, to whom, and do they enjoy it, etc). He knows the dance but has danced enough for the moment and wishes to observe instead.
The emerald dragon slithers through the crowd until it finds it's prey. "Cousin, I'm sure you can pick this up quickly enough, perhaps you'd care to make a few turns about the floor?"
"Only if you're prepared to keep up." Jerod says with a shark's smile. "One must dance properly when doing this one."
"I'm skilled at a few dances, cousin," she says playfully. "This happens to be one of them. I'm glad to know you are, too."
[Let's see if I get this right, being used to leading, not the other way around...]
Gathering her skirt in her left hand smiles as his hand settles at her waist. She remanices as they join the others, "It wasn't more than a few after The War that Strauss's eldest son wrote this in my home Shadow, An der Schoenen Blauen Donau, The Blue Danube.
"So, where did you learn to waltz?" she asks.
"I spent a short while with Flora during my travels before Corwin's return." Jerod replies. "She arranged a few parties to show me what her home was like. I was fortunate enough to talk with an orchestra conductor who knew the background of the Blue Danube. She mentioned something about it originally being a vocal piece for a choral society. The lyrics were a rather plodding piece of work on the merits of electric street lighting, if you can believe that.
"Apparently Strauss kept a copy of it and reworked it for a string orchestra. I decided that anyone who could take such a work and make it sound good was worth the time to learn more about."
"I didn't know that. I had the chance to see him in '72 in Boston. It was enjoyable, and much different than I had heard the waltz before," Paige recalls. "He conducted it such that the second beat of each triplet always cames a little sooner than you might expect."
Paige chuckles, "His number of pieces he left was a testament to his unrelenting pursuit of his work, like some others I know. It's good that I know you do enjoy some time off, else I might be worried for you.
"Of course Strauss was said to be afraid to be alone, almost to madness when his first wife died. You've never stuck me as one who's afraid of much, cousin."
"Worried for me?" Jerod asks with an amused look. "Why Paige, I never would have guessed. Perhaps I have not been suitably arrogant enough. I must endeavour to rectify that."
The compressed green smile broadens for him. "No thank-you. I like things just as they are. You keep the arrogance subdued and I'll keep the drama to a minimum."
"Done."
Her smile beams for him, almost more apparent in her eyes than her green lips.
"I suppose you'll joining your sister on her return to Rebma?" Paige asks.
"That seems to be the question of the evening. I might. It will depend on a number of factors though."
"I assume you know that the swans will be leaving quickly?" she inquires.
"Who isn't leaving?" Jerod counters. "At the rate it's going, half of the family will be in Paris before a three-day has passed. Though it will be interesting to see who goes first on the squiggle. I'm curious to see where Corwin has it hidden. If it wouldn't interfere with my own endeavours, I'd almost be tempted to walk it myself. Unfortunately other things press on my time. I'd rather not have to explain to my sister why I would be delaying the return home."
"What's the King got you up to?"
"Not leaving," she says with a wry grin. "Seems the courts will still be my provence, at least for a little while longer.
"Anything you can clue me into, that your people have caught and mine might not have?" Paige asks.
"And in exchange you'll provide me with information about what your people have caught that mine haven't?" Jerod asks.
"Done," she says, echoing his earlier acceptance of offered truce.
"Unfortunately, I'm currently a dry well, other than gossip, and mostly family at that," Paige says. "I can suggest that there will be one less to parade off to Paris, if the reason for the trip is just to walk around and see the lights." Her gaze settles on a hawk across the room.
"The majority of those parading off to Paris will be in for the walk of their life." Jerod says, making an internal note. "Which one did he walk?"
"As noted, he saw the lights of Paris," Paige smiles.
Jerod awaits her reply before continuing. "You may wish to keep an eye our mutual trading friends from the hoarding scandal. Enough has circulated to tell me that they'll be rebuilding their links. And the navy has been quietly trying to leverage their power to restrict convoy activity to a minimum. That will make trade even more expensive. Octave's current client list might be a good thing to get a look at."
Paige nods, "Yes, I think he's going to be a target this evening still. I might have to express some disgust at you and your methods."
"Don't stint on my account." Jerod says. "Word it properly and I could be the King's new chief interrogator. Good pay raise right there for sure."
Her eyes twinkle in amusement, "You get paid?"
"Well, more perks than pay. Extra chocolate from the kitchen. First dibs on all scotch imports. And unlimited use of the castle carriages. Chicks really dig the carriages." Jerod says with an absolute deadpan delivery.
Paige laughs out loud. Who would've thought that Jerod would be the one to make her truly laugh tonight? And she needed a laugh, right now.
Tis indeed why he is for sure the son of Eric...:) (what is impossible for others is merely highly improbable for him)
"Oh, and hit up your dad. Find out whether or not he's taking the Peace crew home or drowning them like rats. I offered to do it but the King turned me down. That will tell you whether or not you have to worry about any of the merchant houses making other trade alliances."
"I'm leaning toward someone taking them back, else he wouldn't have added them to my guest list," Paige comments. "But he's the devil himself, at least tonight, and his motives are often circumspect."
"Amazing how easily an exquisite night like this can so quickly devolve to politics," Paige comments.
"Oh, wait, it always was politics, wasn't it?"
"Maybe for the King, but not for me." Jerod says. "Though I do find it necessary to bring up a few topics with people before I depart. That's just cleaning up loose ends. Politics would mean starting a whole new game. I wouldn't be leaving if that were the case."
"Point," she allows.
"So what does your sister add to the current situation?" Paige asks. "Or is it just to the currents?"
"My sister is an element that our male cousins do not fully grasp." Jerod replies. "A number of them were confidently cocky during Martin's poker game when she showed up. They acted exactly as she expected them to, and as I expected them to. She did not become a Duchess of the realm simply because she's my mother's eldest.
"I have some suspicions as to why she is here. I will confirm them when I return home. Be careful in any game you decide to initiate with her. She plays by male rules up here while using all the female advantages."
"Maybe it's the tack I should learn to sail," Paige suggests. "I'll have to see if she's accepting apprentices," she jokes.
"My mother would be a better choice for a teacher." Jerod responds. "Valeria sometimes enjoys the hunt much more than she should."
"You'll introduce me, perhaps a little less formally than that dog and pony show yesterday?" Paige asks.
"We can arrange something. You might consider a trip to Rebma in the future. It would be an eye opener for any of the ladies here, in more ways than they realize."
"Only if I have you or Martin as a tour guide," Paige decides. "I think I could handle the fashions from what I hear, but it would have to be a trip soon. The winged god," who she can't find in the room as they make another turn, "is concerned for my health and the that of the twins." She watches what expression can be read through Jerod's mask.
There does not appear to be a change in Jerod's expression. If Jerod was unaware of Paige's condition, he does not show any surprise.
As was expected, but one never knows.
*chuckle*...perhaps, though it might also suggest that Jerod does not consider it his place to comment on her personal behaviour...he is half-Rebman after all - he's a lot more sexually relaxed than most would realize.
Well, Paige did date one of your best friends. She's familiar with the attitudes.
"Of course he suggested that the artifact that's intact in Rebma might be my best protection," Paige says, an idea sparking in her emerald eyes. "Or the one in Paris. Hells, by his own words he can't keep me here.
"Sorry," she says for zoning on her partner.
"I suspect Martin will not be returning to Rebma any time soon." Jerod says, apparently unconcerned that his dance partner zoned on him (and therefore not requiring any apology from her). "Assuming he were even interested in returning."
Paige nods agreement, even as her eyes say _We both know he'd go if the King asked._
Jerod's not so sure. However, it is not something he'd prefer to test.
Jerod pauses a moment in his comments to let things settle into place. "It is unclear as to whether the artifact remains intact, since Conner would not have been able to see it. It is kept heavily guarded. Even Martin had to sneak around to get to it. However, if shifting was not possible then its existence is the most likely conclusion. From your comments, one could infer that the threat to you comes from one with power in Shadow, but which cannot stand in the presence of Order."
"True, and I'm working from that conclusion in both instances," she confirms. "Their grandfather is concerned that their paternal grandmother will be more than anxious to... clutch them to her bosom, as it were."
"You mean to use them in whatever schemes she might have to advance her power base." Jerod says. "Even if it means their demise."
Paige nods subtly, fighting the flash of anger. "He suggested that control of Order was easiest way to counteract her influences. I'm good, but not that good."
"So instead its overall presence is of greater benefit if you cannot summon its powers." Jerod says. "It's certainly a good theory. Your father and Uncle Corwin seem to get along. I'm sure you could arrange to spend some time in Paris until the grandfather in question has an opportunity to correct the wayward grandmother of her miscreant ways. Preferably with a long pointy piece of steel.
"Do you have a trump of Corwin? If your duties to the King here require you to remain overlong, the enemy might decide to come looking for its prize. You'll need to be able to escape quickly."
"No, but perhaps he'll sit for a sketch or two before he returns," Paige ponders. "My personal set is somewhat limited."
"You may not have time." Jerod says. "If you do, that's good. If not, see about finagling a real one. Your dad would part with it for a short while wouldn't he?"
Paige nods.
"I figured to perhaps waltz with him next," Paige comments. "You up to a turn with Aunt Florimel?"
"Not at the moment." Jerod says. "During a Masq she's definitely a handful. I'm saving her til last. But I can drop you off in that general area."
"Wonderful," she says.
When the waltz starts Ossian tilts his head and watches Random and the Queen for a few moments. He tries a few steps while turning around to look for the Red Dragon, and is confident that he will manage. [My guess is that Ossian has danced some kind of waltz before, but not of the Viennese variety. He should pick it up effortlessly though.]
When he reaches Lilly:
"Good evening, creature of fire and grace." he says, bowing.
"Would you dare to enter the dancefloor with me in this new dance?"
"It would be an honor." Lilly had been watching the patterns of the dance and was fairly confident in her ability to duplicate them. In fact she seemed quite pleased to be able to try something new and fresh.
"I was counting on your courage." Ossian says, (smiling?) and offers his arm.
"Few would question it." The tone of her voice carries a bit of playfulness something Ossian had certainly not heard before. Lilly semed to be in a rather good mood at the moment.
As they dance, Ossian is not leading as much as one would expect; the dance becomes very much collaborative. His touch is very light, but firm. Through the dance Ossian's eyes are fixed upon Lilly's.
Lilly moves with grace and ease. Every part of her being seems to come alive as she glides across the floor.
There comes an amused "Ah." from Ossian.
"Do you enjoy dancing, Lady Dragon?"
"Yes. Very much so. Though I have never participated in a dance such as this one. I apologize if I seem a bit awkward." The movements seem to come easy enough. However, the closeness and intimacy a Waltz requires though is most definitely seem new to her.
"Don't apologize. You are wonderful." Ossian says, looking straight into Lilly's eyes.
The maiden's eyes fall to the floor as a hint of color flows into the unmasked portion of her face. With a slightly deeper then normal breath, she recovers herself and returns her attention to her partner.
Ossian's eyes hint mischief, or joy. Or both.
"We'll see what comes next. I doubt the king will stop with waltz. There will be other new dances too."
"The perhaps this evening shall prove to be entertaining after all." Lilly says with a smile. Ossian detects no hint of innuendo. Evidently the idea of spending the evening learning new dances has a certain appeal for her.
"Has it not been entertaining earlier?" Ossian asks.
"Let's just say I was born with a sense of foreboding. For whatever reason I tend to expect things to be difficult and generally find myself truly surprised when they are not. At best I expected tonight to be something of an ordeal. At worst I expected, what's that expression? All Hell to break lose I belive. Anyway no where in my mind did I expect to end up enjoying myself."
The hint of a smile comes to Lilly's face. "Or at least not in this way."
Ossian chuckles. "We must do what we can to fight boredom." he says. "and the evening is not over yet. Hell might still break lose."
"Until then... you know, this style of dancing is well defined in Amber yet. We have a unique opportunity to influence how the waltz will be danced here. Would you like trying some improvisation?" Ossian sounds enthusiastic about the prospect, and a bit playful too.
Lilly smiles. "I think I can follow your lead." Perhaps this was not the wisest choice she had made this evening but it would most likely be the most enjoyable.
Ossian must be grinning under that veil of his. "I thought dragons were for a more equal society." he teases. "Tell me if you get dizzy." he continues before she can answer.
There is a look of near delight on Lilly's face. Was this a man who truly believed in equality? Was such a thing possible? Quickly she decided not to ponder it further. It might just spoil the mood.
Ossian beams.
Ossian will keep the rotation central to the waltz; whatever he an Lilly are doing they keep circling around each other. He releases the grip around her waist, although they return to the normal waltz position now and then, as an interplay. Ossian turns the waltz into something more swing-like, (although rotating, and 3/4) [Hm. I would rather say slangpolska-like. But you have no idea what slangpolska looks like]. This includes a lot of one of the dancers rotating quicker than the other, under the other ones hand, or even without any physical contact. Each figure is finishes with Ossian catching Lilly around the waist and a few normal waltz turns.
If Lilly get some ideas he lets her lead for a while.
She is content to share the lead by letting the music flow into movement and following or creating as her heart sees fit. This was a moment she would savor for a very long time. Never had she felt so free nor had she enjoyed herself quite so much.
Ossian's goal is to create a more fun version of waltz (for the dancer's), as he views this kind of dancing as a mainly participating art. Still of course, Ossian and Lilly will look really graceful on the dancefloor.
Jovian has seen and done couples dances of the sort, but takes a minute or two to watch the masters before considering whether to attempt this one. His tactical eye pares it down to basics, his spirited side takes the flourish back in, and with a couple trial sidesteps as he moves through the crowd, he feels more or less ready.
A red-haired fanciful beast catches his eye just as the Sphinx is leaving her company for the floor. He approaches, bowing deeply, cloak- wings spread. "Would your wild and noble heart join me in this charming adventure, Lady Gryphon?"
"If you are a strong lead, Sir Phoenix. The company seems fast. I have been known to favor fast company, though. And it would not do to let the Sphinx be the sole standard bearer for mythology." She finishes her drink and places it on a sidebar and reaches out to let the Phoenix take her hand.
Which he does. "No doubt, you're fit for soaring company. But I think we can glide rather than swoop for now." He leads her thus to the floor.
His hand is gentle but sure, his lead strong enough even if the steps he guides Harper through avoid complexity in favor of understated elegance. (They may be doing a stripped-down version of this dance, but damned if they won't look good doing it.) As Jovian's - and hopefully Harper's - confidence grows, he adds appropriate if not necessarily traditional flourishes now and then.
"The dance suits you, dear Gryphon," he says with a warm smile after a turn or three. "What country breeds such fanciful beasts as yourself?"
"Gateway is my home, Sir Phoenix. It is a trading center for many shadows. We should definitely talk business at a more opportune time."
"'Business' is a language I speak a little less fluently than some," he chuckles. Well, why not let her underestimate him? "But I have no doubt any conversation we have would be enlightening. Is the Gryphon the guardian of the Gateway, then, where it faces Amber?"
"Amber is a giant that sometimes doesn't realize it may step on smaller people. Under such circumstances, it is good to have guardians. And friends." She has certainly picked up the waltz and is very good for a first-timer.
With a little luck and a lot of fire, that makes two of us. :-)
"Guardians and friends are good to have, Lady," the Phoenix replies. "I strive to have both - and be both."
The collection of observers around the mostly empty dancefloor, the twitters and chirps of titillation, the hisses and grouses of hidden disapproval, the bright eyes of curiosity. Robin's head cocks as she looks at the swirling couples. Pretty. And while still so very constrained, at least freer than before.
A happy little croon ripples through the Ranger and she bounces to the tips of her toes craning around. Awww, the sight of the white wings of her father disappearing into the night brings a pout.
Maybe... nope. Pout gets deeper. Though she must admit he looks good posturing like that before the Gryphon.
Can't even look at Vere, standing there so solid next to his father, a smile on his face, music washing through him, magic in his eyes. Dammit! Don't look at Vere!
The Huntress tears her eyes away. Where's the fox? Crane, crane, search, search. Dung!
Nomad? Shit, a elegant swirl of white already on the floor.
Vista? Damn, he's good. She's already lost sight of him in the crowd. That man could disappear in a field of toothpicks.
The thump of her own stamped foot startles the Huntress and she can't help breaking into quiet rueful laughter. Serves her right for being so prickly.
Lady Vesper's mouth works soundlessly once or twice, and then she manages to get a few words out. "Lord Vere--I am afraid I do not know this dance. It is a very great honor you offer me, but I simply cannot."
"Nonsense, my lady," Vere says earnestly. "I have no doubt that you can pick it up quickly." His hands snap out quickly and grasp hers, and before she can react he continues. "It is a step to the right, two, three, then left, two three. And so forth. Right, two, three. Left, two, three. Right, two, three. Left, two three." He pulls her along with him in the steps, slowly backing out onto the dance floor and pulling her after him. "Excellently done, my lady. Right, two, three. Left, two, three. Just so." He smiles approvingly, "You have a natural sense for the rhythm of the dance, Lady Vesper. I am most impressed. Thank you again for agreeing to dance with me," and he drops her left hand and smoothly encircles her waist with his right hand, and sweeps her away into the dance.
"Lord Vere--" Lady Vesper says, and is dumbfounded into silence.
Lady Vesper is not a particularly clumsy dancer, but she really is not prepared for the waltz. She holds herself stiffly, and is clearly unsused to the intimate familiarity of the waltz hold from a man not her husband.
As they sail around the dance floor, the other dancers notice the identity of Vere's partner. Solace's eyes sparkle and Lucas murmurs some (certainly tart) comment in her ear. Bleys winks at him. Random can't hide his laughter. And Vere gets a subtle thumbs-up from Martin.
And Brennan's quiet snicker. I'm sure Vere doesn't need to be in the Listening Spot to catch that.
And the Angel of the Sun is beaming below her half-mask.
(Way to go, brother! Cousin. Whatever.)
Vere holds Lady Vesper in a not-too-close embrace, at least by waltz standards, but he's watched Random closely and comprehends the usefulness of the waltz hold for leading, and he uses it to advantage to control Lady Vesper's movements, and to force her to move with the music, all the while talking cheerfully of how lovely she and her daughter both look tonight, how delightful it is that their majesties decided to hold such a lovely masquerade, how amazing all the costumes are, and whatever other inconsequentialities occur to him as they dance. He has switched his mind completely over to courtier mode, something that few in Amber have ever seen him do, and he radiates earnest harmlessness and good nature.
Lady Vesper is too astounded to protest more and do more than issue general replies to the commentary.
In addition to the encouragement of his cousins and peers, Vere notices as he sweeps by the old biddies that some of them are shocked and appalled, but more than one is probably secretly envious of Lady Vesper's chance to try the scandalous new dance.
Once Vere has Lady Vesper settled into the rhythm of following his lead and responding to his comments, he more or less puts his courtier persona on automatic, and begins paying most of his attention to locating the whereabouts of the members of the royal family in the main ballroom, a task made much easier by the tendency of most people in the vicinity of a royal to be almost painfully aware of the royal's proximity. Following the lines of attention as he spins around the dance floor he has a good mental map of everyone's location by the time the waltz ends, and he bows to Lady Vesper and takes her arm.
"I must say again, Lady Vesper, how very grateful I am that you agreed to dance with me. I was fairly certain that I understood the dance, but it required a partner such as yourself to enable me to put into practice what I had learned in theory," he says as he leads her back to the friends she had been standing with when he abducted her for the dance.
Inwardly, Vere is busy calculating his next move. Originally, he had planned on moving from this dance to one of the other ladies on his list of people he wished to speak with tonight, but in the process of spotting their locations as the waltz ended he's also spotted some intriguing, and potentially worrying, trends in their behaviour and groupings, and he suspects joining any of them would bring unwelcomed attention to them.
He bows over Lady Vesper's hand, brushing it with his lips through the gauze covering his face, and thanks her once again, before straightening, offering a bow to her companions, and departing. He takes the opportunity of turning to scan the room, confirming that, yes, he did spot Robin conversing with her father, and noting the main focus of Julian's attention. Curiouser and curiouser.
Bleys and Fiona arrive in the hall a few steps ahead of Brennan and take the dance floor. Bleys is, of course, as good at waltzing as he is at anything else, which may not be as perfect as some of his siblings are but is still so far above the norm that nobody can tell. And Fiona really can do everything he can do backwards and in high heels.
After several turns about the floor, Bleys manages to end up close to Random, and introduces a custom that some of the family already knew about but probably would have preferred not to import: cutting in. The net result is a switch: Bleys is dancing with Vialle and Random is dancing with Fiona.
Bleys dances more conservatively with Vialle than he did with Fiona. Random, by contrast, is more confident and loose with Fiona as his partner, although he's not as showy as Bleys was.
[Jovian] focuses for a time on the dance, the rhythm and swirl of the music, the grace and charm of his partner. He is in no hurry to press other topics if she isn't, but doesn't discourage her from continuing either.
After a bit, the Gryphon says "turn us around and tell me if your cousin is dancing with who I think he's dancing with." Her tone is somewhere between amused and amazed.
Having caught in the corner of his eye some of the Nomad's improvisations with the Red Dragon, the Firebird is quite willing to lead his partner into that elegant, swirling spin-extend-return like a swing move in waltz time, which gives him a chance to focus for a moment on the vaguely disturbing vision in brown and grey. "Some sort of brown animal costume, braided hair like a ropemaker's shop window display, inadequately masked hatchet face," he reports, sotto voce, when the Gryphon returns to his arms. "I know her only by her son-in-law's description, but I'd hazard a guess that's Harmony, Lady Vesper." His tone has not so much a note as a sonata of sardonic amusement.
She nods. "That's what I thought. How very clever of him. I don't think it will stop people from talking about him tomorrow, but it will give them a second subject. I hope I'm dancing better than Lady Vesper."
"My dear, your youthful indiscretion is a vision to warm the heart." The thousand candle smile is back - and he finds he means it sincerely.
"Thank you, my lord." She smiles. Jovian thinks she's making sure she knows who else is on the floor and who is watching.
The people she notices most are behind him when he catches her noticing (and make no mistake, his study of her face is intended to miss no reaction) but he notes their position in space by the vector of her gaze, making almost an aerial combat exercise of it without letting his face show anything but pleasure at the company. Naturally, he makes a note of the targets - ahem, onlookers - as they pass through another turn.
Along the way, focusing on the crowd, he starts to put things together: his father moving with blatantly feigned casualness, a certain veiled agitation among the Clarissi. The activity makes his smile even more blissful as he draws Harper into almost unseemly closeness, not caring if the throng assumes his whisper in her ear is an indecent proposition.
"Ambassador," he whispers, remarkably without tension. "It appears that something is afoot. If it is an ally of yours about to act, I pray you consider Gateway's interests and sever the alliance right here and now." >From his fair approximation of a warm, playful, good-trouble tone of voice, actually, it could be an indecent proposition.
"Lord Jovian, I know you were away at the wars, but such things characterized Prince Eric's unhappy reign and not all of us knew whom our allies had allied with. Still, this is a fascinating topic. Who would you like me to betray, theoretically speaking? What if I am your father's agent?"
Jovian meets Harper's eyes in momentary silence, still smiling a bit - not at all unpleasantly, but among other things still considering inwardly whether she's playing a deeper game than she's letting on. In a moment he chuckles half-ruefully. "That would be entertaining - but I trust my father not to disrupt his new King's show of hospitality. It's a typical reaction to the red hair, dear lady, reinforced by the wars," he sighs, lightly touching an exposed curl. "Adoring but paranoid." The gleam in his eye and quirk at the corner of his mouth leave no question of malice; plainly he allows that the joke is on him.
The self-deprecating shrug and roll of his eyes, incidentally, allows him to mark the ongoing movements of his relatives.
"Flatterer," she smiles. "It's been years since someone has so guilelessly asked me to turn my coat." She lets a moment of silence pass and adds, "It's refreshing to find that Prince Julian's children are so confident that his loyalty is to the throne and the King and not just Amber or Arden."
As the music ends, the Firebird offers a deep reverance that puts him almost on one knee, bowing over the Gryphon's hand. "But as long as the interests of King and Country are one, why should it not be so? Now is not a time to be the enemy of destiny, would you not agree?"
"How could one disagree?" she chuckles lightly, and thanks him for the dance and conversation as he guides her off the floor
"May I call upon you again sometime soon, dear lady?"
"It would be my honor to accept your call, Sir Knight."
A short time after the music starts, hopefully as the other members of the Family are still taking the floor, the Fox emerges from the thread in the Garden, mask back in proper place, scanning the ballroom, noting who is dancing with whom. He notes that, indeed, Lilly has found a partner, but it almost certainly isn't apparent that he was looking or noticed that particular detail.
Instead, after looking around, he spots Cambina handily and moves to her side quickly and easily. "Not traditional Amber dance, as I understand it, but I happen to know this style very well. Shall we?"
And indeed he does. If Cambina also knows it well, they might make quite the pair. A little into the dance, Brennan turns his head down to whisper into her ear, "Enjoying the evening, Radiance?"
She looks up at him, a mona-lisa smile on her face and says "is it that obvious? Am I beaming? Did you see Martin at the coronation, how he seemed to have the weight of the world added to his shoulders? Up until very recently, I was 'the King's daughter'. It's very different from being 'the Prince's daughter.' I feel slightly sorry for Martin, because I think he still thinks he has it all under control.
"Plus, I'm enjoying the dance, Sir Fox."
He smiles back down at her. "There is a certain graceful curve to your lips, Lady Luna. I'm glad you're enjoying tha dance, and the evening. I am, too. Especially the dance." He's obviously more comfortable with waltz-style couple dances than the ones he had recently picked up for the purpose of the Masque. And enjoying this one in particular. After she's had a chance to get a feel for the steps and watch one or two of the flourishes that Corwin and Flora are adding to their steps, Brenn will suggest a few to her as well. If she assents, he'll lead her through them.
He picks one or two that are much easier than they look, and designed to show off his partner rather than himself. He's sure there will be vicious gossip in the broadsheets tomorrow.
"I did notice Martin. I thought he was trying to convince everyone else that it was all under control. I hope he's not convincing himself. I hope he knows enough to bend and accept help when he needs it, too."
She laughs. "He's a lot like Bleys. Not that he would admit it."
"Yes," he quips, "But is it Martin who won't admit it? Or Bleys?"
"Fallacy of the excluded third. It's both."
"Only excluded for the purpose of a quick shot."
At some point, they will be sure to see Vere and Vesper gliding across the ballroom floor, as well. Brennan gives that a tilt-headed glance for all the world just like a Fox staring into a grammophone. "Well that was... odd. Our dear Ghost is behaving badly, isn't he?"
Not that the Fox, of all people, thinks that's a problem. The snicker would make that clear to anyone who missed the smirk.
"Yes, he's full of pepper. She'll turn that to her advantage, though, once she has time to think it through. She gets 'Supporting the Queen', 'supporting her daughter', and 'member of the royal family' out of it. Look at who she's on the floor with, family and Gatwegian sorceresses. She's an opportunist; she knows when to change horses. If the rest of it hadn't happened that night, it would have been her masterstroke, too..."
Brennan seems about to reply with another wisecrack, then parses the tense on that last sentence and reconsiders. And waits until he thinks it's passed, then, "So, I'm not sure if this is a delicate subject or a clumsy question, but forgive me regardless: How would you like me to react when your verb tense slips like that?"
When in doubt, try directness.
She stiffens, slightly. "Jerod usually acts like he's bringing me out a trance. Usually, I have no idea what I've said. What did I say?"
He gives her hand a squeeze that he hopes to be reassuring, comforting, or both, as he leads her to a less flourishy set of steps where conversation will be easier.
"Well, that doesn't sound very pleasant," he says. "I think you were alluding to something important that happened-- or will happen-- tonight. But that isn't really the point. This is: There's probably a place somewhere between treating you like fine crystal, and callous indifference. I thought I might do less damage asking, then thrashing my way to an answer."
Implicit in the conversation is that Brennan will continue to see enough of Cambina in the future for this to matter.
"He doesn't mean any harm. It's sweet in a stupid little brother way, really. From my point of view, there's a fine line between acting like fine crystal and being a danger to myself and others. The line isn't that fine, actually. The only one of my aunts who ever struck a balance was also the brains behind a near-successful coup. There aren't a lot of positive role-models for Royal Women." She is smiling, but it's a gallows humor.
Actually, Brennan's ambiguity covered both Jerod's reaction, and the business of not even realizing when she's done it.
[Cambina answered what she chose to answer. She's like that.]
"There's a reason she's my favorite aunt." A moment later he realizes just how bad that might sound out of context-- or even in-- and he's grateful that the waltz is private.
"Let's try that again-- I admire her intelligence and determination."
Cambina smiles, "She's mine as well, although I suspect I'll never be as confident as she is."
"Give it time," he says. "You remind me of her, in some ways."
After a bit, semi-random thoughts collide in his mind, and he asks, "Did you know Deirdre well? I only met her the once, briefly."
Cambina sighs softly. It is clear to Brennan that Deirdre was not Cambina's favorite aunt. "I would not say I knew her well. She had a certain ruthlessness that kept her from being kind to Eric's daughter. I admired the skill with which she kept both Eric and Corwin balanced. It was a centuries long dance of manipulation. I have often wondered if she didn't help push them into their conflict. And I completely understand why all of her sisters hated her."
Brennan blinks a moment in surprise. Not disbelief, merely surprise. "I only had a few moments to form an opinion," he says, "And you make me think she got a much different reaction from men, than from women. I think her death hit Marius very hard, though."
She nods, failing to comment on the obviousness. "It's hard for me to like someone who almost killed me because it futhered her plans. She drugged me and left me in her bed to confuse her guardians. I don't begrudge her her escape from Father, but it was through no kindness of hers that I survived it. No mortal would have. I am rather sure she didn't care, or assumed she could talk her way out of father's bad graces later."
"Yeah," he says, "that'd do it," without any of the flippancy of tone that the flat text might otherwise imply. For obvious reasons. "I guess that balances the strength of character in Gerard and King Random that brings such warmth and admiration from us. I barely know Gerard, but I can see the respect from our cousins who remained in Amber. Then again, maybe it's a reaction-- they are the youngest of our uncles."
She seems happy enough to change the subject. "Hmm. Ultimogeniture because only the youngest of them are sufficiently human to relate to us? It's an interesting theory. Certainly my father saw much more than most people and had trouble explaining to them all the connections and leaps he took to determine what was the best path for their lives. Should we prescribe a few centuries of amnesia every few centuries to allow ourselves to become reacquainted with uncertainty and humanity? A harsh prescription, that."
"It can become difficult to relate to people with so much less life experience, in cultures where no one attains that much life experience. Despite the Brands of the family, it draws me to the City, where I'm still a young man. Well, young-ish," he says, recalling a much earlier conversation about why Brennan was staying in Amber.
"But I wasn't thinking of age just eroding compassion. I was thinking that the younger of our aunts and uncles also grew up surrounded by vastly older, sometimes cruel, family members. I wouldn't want to bet on it in a poker game, but there might be some sympathy there. Maybe the prescription is to know life somewhere other than the top for a while, whatever the means."
Cambina nods, clearly considering the theory.
"And yet, for each cluster of them, was it not the case? Faella's children were children in the glowering age of the Cymnean Princes, Clarissa's lot were children in the face of Deirdre and Caine and Corwin and, Unicorn help them, Father. And then you're into the younger elders of your thesis. Should we then hope for sympathy from all our elders? That seems over-optimistic. But I don't think we need to worry about a life of limitless success and challenge-free arrogance for them or for us in the foreseeable future."
"Well, it's hard to say. Particularly for me. But given the perversity of human nature, I wouldn't expect sympathy all the way up, I'd just expect slightly more on the way down. The youngest of the older generation had more opporunity to be made pawns of their elders, because there were more of their elders. And it's modulated by individual temperaments, of course," he adds, before she asks. "It's probably a bit academic, since I'm not about to put any of them to the question on the subject."
He considers. "Well, not tonight."
Cambina snorts. "It sounds like what Father classified as 'questions you are frequently better off not asking.' Not that that would've stopped him of course. He was a strong believer in rules. For others."
The Fox smiles. He can appreciate that reaction on several levels. "I thought more in terms of choosing the right time and place. Tonight, for instance, they all seem sober enough to remember tomorrow."
Cambina snorts out a small laugh. "That is not always the ideal criterion upon which to decide to start a conversation. And I think some of our Uncles are on a pace that will make them wish they could forget tonight, tomorrow. Not that anyone here will, afterwards."
Last modified: 25 June 2003