Library Fun, Part Nine

Having started with the easy "mingles", [Jerod] looks around momentarily, picks a target and smiles before heading over...to Bleys and company.

Jerod successfully heads over, and will be added to that thread shortly...

[Random]
"Aisling, have you met Jerod? He is a survivor of multiple banquets, receptions and even the odd afternoon tea. Jerod, this is Aisling, your cousin."

"We have, indeed, met, your majesty." Aisling nods to Jerod.

Jerod returns the nod. "During the army transfer, for about a few seconds and then later here." Jerod says to Random. "She's got the potential to survive the banquets and receptions without any trouble from what I've seen, but the afternoon teas could be a bit problematic." He says it with such a straight face and timing that she's sure that he's joking.

Aisling meets this with the polite smile that is her own lack of expression. "In fact, when we spoke, Jerod expressed to me an interest in hearing more about the occurrences with the dragons in Chaos. I should hate to bore you who commanded there, though..." she tilts her splinted mess of a hand in a slight movement suggesting that she could move away with Eric's son.

"Ah...then I will have something about dragons to regale Brita with after sparring tomorrow." Jerod says. "Please..." and he nods to the remainder before heading off a distance, outside of hearing range of the others.

Aisling smiles at Lucas, clearly offering him a chance to come along if he desires yet more talk of battles and such other dreary occasions.

She wanders down the shelves of the library, appearing to browse them absent-mindedly.

While it's clear that Jerod notices, or has noticed the wound Aisling has, it does not appear to affect his behaviour, at least not in a negative way. Depending on how perceptive she is, she might notice that Jerod automatically adjusts certain behaviours to compensate for it (reaching for a drink so he has to pour first instead of making her do it, pulling out a chair first, etc) - if she does notice this, she'd also notice that its not conscious on his part - he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

"Do you need a refill?" Jerod asks, checking on her drink.

Aisling glances down at her remaining inch of clear beverage. "No, that's alright; I imagine we'll be heading to dinner soon enough," she shrugs slightly, and says, as if on a different subject, "Thanks." She gives him a wry smile. "Now, did you want to hear about what the dragons are like, or what they did in the battle? Information is meat and drink to me, but I'm perfectly willing to trade..."

"Actually I'm more interested in you." Jerod replies. "If I'm interested in battle strategy I'll talk to Caine, or Uncle Julian later. I've not seen them in five years and I'm sure I can interest them in a drink or two while catching them up on things here. The comment concerning the dragons was convenient for other ears."

"Um," Aisling says, and she flashes a glance at him and then studies the books with renewed fortitude. "...What would you like to know? Like any being, there's a lot to me, and more layers than three..."

"Layers are fun...and a challenge." Jerod says, purposefully turning to look at the rest of the room while standing beside her. "But the most interesting layer is the one that you show to the world. We like to use it as a shield, to hide ourselves from those around us. Yet it also tends to say a lot about who we are."

He looks at her directly for a moment, studying her appearance as if committing it to memory.

She returns his gaze.

"So...what do you tell people with your layer? Not that you're family...which you are. Even the most trusted advisor doesn't come to these gatherings."

"Oh, appearances..." she says with relief at not being asked something more deadly. She smiles faint and says, "I'd thought, lately, that I did look a bit like Benedict, if one considered the connection. I'm a cousin of Dara's." She shrugs, looks away again, eyeing the shelves as they slowly wander along. "I chose to come like this because it wouldn't be... honest, to not let you know what I was, from the start."

He looks at her briefly, nodding. "I must admit, you have little of Benedict's sombre expression. Though I've seen little of my uncle so I cannot say for certain that you do not have other aspects of him. It will be interesting to see him again...assuming he stays for longer than a few days."

Aisling tilts her head in agreement.

"Your choice of words is a curious one. What you are?" he repeats, emphasizing the words. "That seems to imply a special connotation..."

She looks at him, her flat brows drawing together in mild confusion. "Why, a Chaosite, obviously," she answers the question she's not sure he asked, and then cuts herself off from saying anything more and watches him with a hint of trepidation.

"A stranger in a strange land?" Jerod says, noting the trepidation. "You seem afraid. Do you fear me, or just something in general."

"Your father's death- was not so long ago, for me." She's getting subtly tenser.

At her comment, Jerod smiles, a smile that Aisling is certain would light rooms, melt hearts and deny nothing that Jerod were to put his mind to acquiring (he is his father's son). She will realize immediately that it is genuine, honest and holds no malice.

"You may release apprehensions with me then, for I do not hold you responsible, nor even your people, though I would not be so foolish as to accept an insult from one of your people who might think me weak by my...forgiveness?" Jerod says, the smile fading slowly.

"Oh, heavens, no, your kindness is one of the main reasons I like you people." Aisling looks somewhat relieved by his smile, but not totally.

"I have had five years to mourn my father and to learn the real reasons why he died, and who I would hold responsible if it so struck me to do so. Those who are truly responsible are neither worth my time, effort or consideration to take revenge upon." and he pauses for a moment. "Though should they decide to take up the ways of treachery once again, they may be sure they will find my blade in their back at an unexpected moment...even if they are family."

Aisling is partially reassured by this, and partly unreassured... It was the word "treachery" that did that.

"And what of your sister?" she asks.

"My sister does not live entirely in this world." Jerod says. "Her emotions and motives are entirely her own and you would be wise not to judge too quickly what you see or hear from her, for her interpretation of something may be grounded in another reality at the time you hear it.

"Though you should not worry too much about her trying to kill you."

Aisling's brow twitches at this. Jerod gets the impression that this was not among her foremost worries.

"She is wiser than I, and she would go to the one truly responsible for our father's death, if she were so inclined."

He takes a sip of his drink before continuing. "I think perhaps we've had enough of talk of revenge and retaliation for the moment. This is a time to meet and greet...the perpetual family endeavour known as gossip. Such is not the time for recriminations."

"...Indeed," Aisling agrees, though perhaps to one of her own thoughts as much as his. "Would you be so kind as to introduce me to your sister? I believe she and the queen are the only people here who have yet to meet me."

"If you wish..." Jerod says.

And at the appropriate time, the GMs can figure out when to fit the introduction into the Cambina/Flora combination.

[Random]
"I don't recall Jerod being so interested in violet women before the war..."

Bleys takes a long drag from his cigarette and replies "perhaps he knew her when she wasn't so violet."

Random nods, then changes the subject. "Well, Lucas. Do you know what a good thing it is that Eric was dead before you moved Harmony Vesper into the Castle? Or were you trying to raise his shade?"

"I imagine I could say a good many things about Eric being dead, but not here. Do you miss your brother?"

Random looks around, waving his glass. "Ask me again in three hundred years, when I've had a chance to figure out what it means." His expression changes, quickly, and he seems much more serious. "Right now I'm numb with shock at the number of immortal relatives of mine are recently dead. I've had weeks to get used to Eric's being gone."

Lucas nods, as though forgetting the time difference. "I imagine it's not easy being a god among men."

Bleys makes a small noise. "I'd say that it's far too easy to be a god among men, or even among Little Furry Guys." Random looks a bit uncomfortable. "Wisdom is knowing your limitations when you are unbounded by those who surround you."

"Ah, Wisdom." Random says. "Bleys is full of it, Lucas."

"To the eyeballs, your majesty." Bleys agrees, placidly.

Random grins. "I must greet your sister."

Random vaguely waves his cigarette in Lucas' direction as a leavetaking gesture.

Lucas vaguely waves back, and looks for someone interesting to foist his charms upon.

Bleys nods by way of farewell and goes to speak with Corwin and Llewella.

Vere nods at Conner as he approaches, but waits for his elders to speak.

Conner nods back and also waits politely until Caine and Gerard finish up their latest conversation.

"Captain!", Caine says, "your newly discovered status will certainly shake up the diplomatic corps." Caine is grinning. "And lead many a worried ambassador to wonder just what has been said in your presence. Welcome to the family."

Conner grins back. "Good to be a part of it, and I've already started a list of things they shouldn't have said." Conner chuckles. "The catty comments on Flora's wardrobe alone could sink some nations."

"The ladies are atwtitter, that's for certain," says Gerard. "We've been discussing fleet assignments and promotions and boring poor Vere senseless. I'm sure Caine will want your opinions before he finalizes things, but that will all wait for another day or two."

Vere tilts his head to one side and regards Gerard silently for a second before saying, "I trust you are jesting, Father? Such discussions could never bore me, I am quite interested in how these matters should be properly handled. A time will come, hopefully in the far distant future, when I shall have such responsibilities myself, whether Naval or otherwise, and your conversation today is a firm basis upon which to begin building the knowledge that will be required for such duties."

Gerard hides his smile by taking a drink.

Vere does not appear to notice his father's reaction.

"Vere, you are the embodiment of the age old wisdom, 'I never learned a thing while I was talking.'" Conner smiles. Turning back to Caine and Gerard. "I'd be happy to put my two cents in. I came in late in the game but I do have a recommendation or two."

Caine says, "Of course. Perhaps you'd care to share them with me at the Naval some time in the next few days." He looks at Vere while speaking as well, as if to include him in the invitation.

Vere nods his head slightly and murmurs, "I would be honoured."

"Perfect." Conner nods. "There is much to be caught up on after all."

"Indeed," says Caine. "I suppose I have more to catch up on than either of you. I've been told the broad outlines of the events of the last five years, but filling in the details will take some time."

"Very true." Conner nods. "I've had a year to get used to all the changes and Amber is still a strange place to me."

"His Majesty has my reports on the state of the fleet and the docks," Vere says. "They should prove to be of some benefit in bringing your knowledge of the current situation up to date."

"Conner was in Rebma," Gerard explains to Caine.

"Really," says Caine. "I understood the way was impassable during the Regency. How did you get back to Amber, Conner?"

"Rebma has a back door." Conner smiles. "A tunnel to a nearby shadow."

"Cousin Conner's experiences in Rebma would seem to indicate that our relations with them might be somewhat...." Vere pauses for a moment before deciding upon "...problematic, once the way is again open. I do not know how much you have heard about his escape, Prince Caine."

"Nothing yet, but I'm sure Conner can rectify that," says Caine.

"Wouldn't you rather wait for the movie?" Conner smiles. "Conner, telling his story, take 15. And action!" Conner then proceeds to tell the story of his escape one more time.

Martin and Solange finish their discussion and head out their separate ways from the niche in the library where they were speaking.

Merlin buttonholes Martin and they speak quietly for a few minutes.

[Rikibeth, what is Solange up to? Which of the existing conversations would she like to join?]

I think, that with my week's absence, we ought to say that Solange had to go "powder her nose" and will return as soon as I've caught up -- tomorrow morning, perhaps.

Brita moves to take a sip of her ginger ale and realizes she's down to ice. "Would any one like a refill?" she asks.

"Yes, please," says Fiona, and hands her daughter her wineglass. Vialle is still nursing her own drink, and says, "No, thank you, Brita."

Ossian looks at hs almost full glass of water and shakes his head, smiling, then turns back to Fiona.

Brita escapes to the sidebar before Random arrives.

"Crossing the impossible parents out is certainly a good idea, though I have a certain feeling that will go easier with the princesses than with the princes." Ossian laughs. "You know your sisters and brothers better than I do. Who do you think I look most like?"

Fiona says, "Random," and it's not clear whether that's an answer to Ossian's question or a greeting to the King, who has approached the group on his way around the room. "Or, I should say, Your Majesty."

Ossian shakes his head a little, smiling to himself.

"What about my majesty?" says Random.

Vialle turns towards her husband, and says, "Fiona thinks she and Bleys might be able to help me sleep better."

"That would be good service indeed," Random replies.

Fiona says, "I serve at the pleasure of the King."

"You already come around to claim the queen back?" Ossian asks Random. "That could be seen as slightly ungenerous, you know."

"No, no, just making the rounds. I come by, say something witty--or not, as the case may be, you all laugh at how brilliant I am, anyone who has urgent business tries to buttonhole me now or set up an appointment for later, and I move on. Once round the room and then we can have dinner..."

"A king whose primary concern is food will certainly make things interesting", Ossian says with a grin.

"And the number one topic of conversation for the five years we were away was...

"Right, Food! I rest my royal case. When you get to be 500 years old, you either think alot about the long, long term future or you think about your next meal. If you all will excuse me, I'll be on to the next group." He nods at Vialle and says "Darling."

When Random has left, Ossian turns to Vialle. "I think I have decided that I like your husband. His sense of humour is remarkable."

Vialle seems to be looking at her husband, but perhaps she is only listening to the echo of his footsteps as he walks away.

"He is a rather remarkable man," says Vialle firmly. "He has long been in the shadow of his brothers, and everyone has underestimated him. But he will make a good king. I know it." She closes the door on those emotions and says, "And he is very funny."

Folly catches the last part of this conversation as she approaches. She smiles in agreement, but there's a trace of irony behind it; perhaps she might've said "Because" rather than "And".

Folly lays a hand on Ossian's arm for a brief moment, as if in solidarity, as she comes to stand beside him. "Forgive me for interrupting," she says pleasantly, "but I was hoping for a brief word with Vialle before dinner." She doesn't say "the Queen" or "Her Majesty," and the not-saying seems intentional; nevertheless, by all appearances, it's not designed to be rude.

Ossian gives Folly a worried look, and tilts his head in a way that can only be interpreted as "Do you want me to stay or leave?", while he gleefully says, "Oh, I hoped you were looking for me."

Vialle turns to bestow her attention on Folly. She does not respond immediately, perhaps waiting on Folly's response to Ossian.

"Your presence, love, is simply a delightful bonus," Folly replies to Ossian with a big grin. It's clear from her tone that he should stick around, unless he's really itching to go talk to someone else.

Ossian laughs. And stays. He does keep an eye on Fiona's reaction to Folly's arrival.

Fiona, whom Ossian realizes has not been introduced to Folly, is fascinated by this play in the way that a pair of wrestling mice might fascinate a cat.

Folly kneels by Vialle's chair, then, as one might to carry on an intimate conversation with a close friend, and lays a gentle hand on her aunt's arm. The gesture is meant to be comforting; and indeed, Folly seems genuinely concerned about Vialle's obviously agitated state. That the contact will also give Folly another means for sensing Vialle's reactions is merely another delightful bonus.

"Vialle, my new room is wonderful," Folly says with obvious delight. As far as anyone can tell, she is completely sincere. "Good call, putting me in an out-of-the-way spot where my music is less likely to disturb anyone." Then, turning her head slightly to include the rest of the group, she adds, with a twinkle in her eye, "I'm sure not everyone appreciates late-night fuguing like I do."

[Ossian]
"Falling asleep to music is always pleasant. Except Vere's bagpipes of course."

Vialle says, "I'm glad you like your new chambers, Folly." She is still tense and agitated, but it is of course impossible for Folly to tell why.

"I was wondering, though," Folly continues, her tone light and friendly, "who ended up with my old room? I'll need to see about swapping doors with whoever-it-is after dinner."

"I would have to ask Vent," says Vialle. "He did much of the work; there are some things I simply cannot do alone."

Ossian pulls a small piece of paper out of his pocket, and begins to fold it in an intricate manner. He does this without looking, and listens to Folly and Vialle without interrupting.

Folly sees Ossian's movement and grins up at him -- an apology for boring him -- as she thinks about her answer. "Well, if it doesn't," she says to Vialle, "I'll just have to see about getting a new cat-flap -- and doing away with the old one, unless the new occupant is a real cat-lover."

Ossian smiles.

"I'm sure Vent will take care of it," Vialle says.

Folly gives Vialle's arm a gentle, friendly squeeze as she continues, "I'll figure it out, one way or another. No sense in your worrying about it, with everything else you've got going on. I just thought you might know offhand." She rises and resumes her position next to Ossian, hoping he'll introduce her to Fiona.

Flora and Cambina are making small talk. Jerod and Aisling approach them and they courteously pause to include the newcomers.

Once the ladies have paused their discussion, Jerod moves into range with Aisling to make introductions.

"Aisling...may I introduce my sister Cambina." Jerod motions to his sister before proceeding. "And this is Aisling, a cousin from Benedict's line it would seem and descended from Chaos." he offers to Cambina.

Aisling rests both of her hands, the whole and the not, around her glass and bows some to Cambina with a smile. "I am pleased to meet you outright at last, Cambina. I hope the recent years have not brought you sorrows?"

"Only my own, which were not unexpected, and which I can bear well enough," says Cambina. "Welcome to Amber."

[Aisling]
Damn. A marvel of words without information. What's unexpected for a clairvoyant?

[GMs]
I'd guess that clairvoyants as a class would tend to hate surprises of any sort...

Aisling smiles in response to the welcome, taking it at face value.

Once that intro is concluded, he turns to Flora. "Hello Auntie..." he says while smiling, his tone just within the range of precise protocol allowed for a pleasant greeting without being too formal and yet not be at all insulting, bowing over her hand. "As I've always suspected, even attending a war you still cannot be anything but the most beautiful of the family. Welcome home."

Aisling, attention mainly on Cambina, still arches her eyebrows a bit at this. It would take her quite a bit of metaphor-stretching to class this evening as a war...

"Jerod, you flatterer. You sound just like your father," says Flora, but she seems pleased. "But the war is over now. At least we all hope so."

Jerod is equally pleased at Flora's reply - Aisling is reasonably certain that references to his own father are things that Jerod likes to hear, though like Flora he appears more likely to accept them as polite harmless flattery as opposed to the truth.

"It would be indeed be nice to avoid having a repetition of that." Jerod says. "Especially with things as they are right now. Though I'm curious as to what happened after the battle. There have been some vague references to official gatherings and such, but everyone's been very busy, too busy in fact to talk much." and he leans in just a tad, a polite but slyful gesture that would be part of any good Court gossip situation, entreating the recipient and simultaneously acknowledging their possession of valuable information.

An interesting topic, but one Aisling is distinctly not invited to. His loss. She shifts her position slightly, easing towards a separate conversation, and continues unassumingly with Cambina, "I gather that something has happened to Tir na Nog'th?"

"I rather favor the theory that something has happened to Amber. We've seen Tir na Nog'th, but only from a shadow where it shouldn't have been. And there were no stairs, either."

Absorbing this deflects Aisling momentarily from whatever her next remark was going to be. "What do you think is the significance of Reid's report of seeing something Tir-like at the Primal Pattern?"

"Did Reid say that? We haven't had access to any pattern since the sundering. No the place he took us was more like a painting than a place. It was like...the dots weren't connected."

And if Cambina seems willing, they'll meander Brownianly into a space beyond eavesdropping, Aisling leaving the Flora/Jerod grouping with an acknowledging tilt of the head.

Cambina is perfectly willing.

Aisling looks distant for a moment, tracking statements in her memory, and then blushes faintly. "Perhaps I am confused." She looks down for a moment, shy suddenly, changing the subject. "I am certainly confused about some things, and I hope that you will help me. I may possibly be the only person in this room who is unaware of this, but... Why were you who stayed in Amber so antagonistic towards Brand?" Before she gets shunted into the "pro-Brand" category, which is clearly not a pleasant place to be, she adds quickly, "Let me tell you how it looked form the outside. The redheads brought in Chaos. Brand, however, was found captured by someone. He was nearly killed, recovered, vanished in a suspicious mess of blood... And then suddenly the Patterns were guarded from him. And then we went off to war and heard that he must die." Aisling spreads her hands a bit, says tentatively, "I hadn't thought that the Patterns could be damaged..."

"Few did, and fewer still that they could be repaired. Brand was one of those who thought of it, and a way to do it, and did something about it. The Regent was quite clear about who had been responsible, but it was what the King said that convinced me.

"I can't quite not hate Brand, now that he's gone. My father should not have had to die. But some nights I awoke seeing that malicious arrow speeding towards him and I felt his fear..." She shakes slightly, perhaps shrugging off a mental image she does not want to see again.

This last confuses Aisling, and she's willing enough to backtrack. "What was it that you," a circling movement of her hand makes it clear that she refers to all of the Regency Amberites, "learned from the Regent and the King?"

"Why, that Brand was the sanguinary author of our troubles, that he had become a risk to the existence of Order, and that he was therefore doomed, if Order was to survive. Not that it was that simple in the early stages, but he was the only one who was not reconciled, at least a little, to the King." Cambina's grin is painted on and, you suspect, modeled on Flora's best insincere smile.

Aisling looks at her seriously.

"In a way, it's a shame he is gone. Who is there now to terrify the family into unity?"

Her brows arch, and there's a faint twist to her mouth. "Was your family ever truly unified?" she asks, and then non-rhetorically, "Were you who have been here for the past five years unified?"

"There's nothing like an external threat to bring unity to a family. Random would be wise, or at least clever, to emphasize the remaining threats to us before he goes off."

A Royal sounding voice comes from behind Aisling. "My ears are burning."

Aisling, who naturally does not position herself in a two-person conversation such that she can't watch the room and have a wall behind her, smiles to Random as he approaches.

When you turn, Random is pulling a cigarette from behind his ear. He looks at it and says "No wonder! Cambina, you haven't taken up smoking, now have you?"

"No, Uncle." Cambina smiles at the king.

Aisling subtly fades behind her drink, not remotely tempted to provide any distraction to this conversation.

Those watching the interplay carefully may notice the briefest of non-verbal communications between Random and Cambina. His head moves slightly as he looks at her, hers shakes minutely in reply.

"We'll more equal-opportunity Kinging to do before dinner. Cambina, Aisling." He says, nodding at the two. Random heads for the nearby Flora/Jerod conversation.

Aisling tilts her head slightly, and with a smirk remarks to Cambina once he's gone, "That was significantly faster than his last visit. Time pressing, perhaps..."

"Perhaps he's hungry. Do you want to speak with him? I'm sure he'll be available after dinner."

"No, I believe I don't have anything more to confess to him..." Aisling says thoughtfully, with a hint of a sparkle in her eyes.

"Martin tells me that you were in Amber before." Cambina says, casually. She does not specify 'before what'.

"Ah," Aisling says, a slight confirming grimace sliding off as her eyes come to rest momentarily on the group of sailors. She stalls. "...Why do you think he didn't mention that to, Gerard or his kinder?" she asks, not entirely succeeding in wiping all the speckles of sadness out of the corners of her voice.

"Martin does as he pleases," says Cambina. "Perhaps you should ask him."

"Mayhap," Aisling replies with a shrug. "I find it pleasant to speak to you, though... Perhaps because I have spoken with you before, briefly. We were introduced when I was Spare." She speaks softly, but does not seem to be hanging with vast trepidation much on the reaction she watches for from Cambina. Spare was a decent creature, after all, and Cambina could hardly be worse about this than Vere. ;)

Cambina smiles and nods. "Nestor's friend. Of course. Did you know that he and I once argued about you? I thought that there was something odd about you, that you had some secret. I thought you might secretly be a woman pretending to be a man. He convinced me it didn't matter." She smiles, as if remembering something pleasant.

Aisling smiles and ducks her head. "A being pretending to be a woman pretending to be a man. I'm glad I don't have to avoid you anymore," she grins. "But I think you and Nestor have the right of it. I take it he weathered the changes with his usual harmony? I was a bit worried when I saw that the books had been rearranged..."

"It is his garden, and if the rosebed were damaged, why then he would take the opportunity to replant the bower..."

Aisling nods and smiles, and will catch up with Nestor himself later now that she has double-checked his state. Her ranging gaze falls on the group around Vialle, and she remarks, "It would not be fair of me to fail to present myself to the queen before dinner; and if I might, I would impose on you to introduce me. Yet should such hold any slight appeal to you, I should also leave it to you to determine the moment--would it be better to approach with my cousin and the others, to share in the pleasant and fascinating company," she nods to the group, all of whom are either pleasant or fascinating, "or to approach at some later time when there may be fewer troublesome distractions?" she muses, not bothering to point anyone out as particularly troublesome. "How did Vialle fare in the long years without her husband?" she asks, giving Cambina a chance to think while she answers.

Sometime during this, Cambina catches Bleys' look, and smiles in his direction.

"Vialle was our symbolic royal war widow and was a great relief to all who knew that those in the Army were not alone in having men afield. That lot will be quite satisfied to see her as Queen. It makes it look as if her waiting was rewarded.

"As to herself, who wants to be separated by war from loved ones? The uncertainty wore on all of us, but her more than many. I think she buried herself in work so as not to think about it. It was not a model any of us wished to discourage. There was so much to be done..."

"What sort of work did she do?" Aisling asks.

Cambina shrugs, "Whatever was necessary, just like all of us. She was chatelaine when Solange was gone. And she was a powerful symbol to a lot of people who were not interested in a council run by Oberon's grandchildren.

"And of course by 'work' I mean 'told other people what to do'. We did manage to maintain appearances to that extent, at least."

Aisling smirks with good humor.

She changes the subject. "How are you finding your new chamber? We haven't officially reopened the part of the castle where you used to stay." The word _yet_ hangs unspoken in the air.

Aisling frowns, and hopes this means that Martin is very close with Cambina... Oh, never mind, "three can keep a secret etc" and she's not about to kill both of them. Still, she doesn't answer her first impulse, to contradict Cambina.

So, frown transmuted to a wry smile, she says, "I haven't had much time to look my rooms over; I spent the afternoon trying to bring my poor affine up to speed on biology."

And she waits, interested to see if this bait will lead Cambina away from whatever she wishes to ask next, that she is keeping them from Vialle. This is, actually, pretty fun.

"There's a book in that: A Guide to Amber: First Principles from the point of view of a servant of Chaos. Perhaps Spare could write it? I'd wait hold off on publication until after..." Cambina trails off and seems absorbed in some private thought.

Aisling suppresses a giggle, eyes merry and streamers quivering slightly. She takes a sip, finishing off the gin and tonic, and if Cambina doesn't continue, she prompts, "I'm afraid it would be too raw to ever get published... But after what?"

"Perhaps a small, private run. I'm sure that several members of our family would like to read it, give it as a gift, read aloud from it to their children. I would find it fascinating. It might tell me what an affine was, for instance."

"An affine..." Aisling says, musingly, trying to line out a reasonable explanation in her thoughts. "Is a creature by nature loyal to the Lord of Chaos who has found and structured it. Ce'e was under someone else's service as a cloud that became rock-stiff to trap Jovian's dragons up away from the battle, in an alley in the sky filled with wyverns... Until I answered his plea for release and affinated him myself. Whereupon he went on to singlehandedly hold back the wyvern-cloud of enormous size, in rain so thick it was like the sky was greased, so that the dragons could return to the ground." Aisling is trying not to burble, but it's like she's describing a fiancee, and recognizing that this is often dull for non-involved people she wraps it up, "...So he wasn't used to human shape, since he was magically aided to reach it, and so there were some basics I had to let him know this afternoon."

"He and I should talk sometime. I have frequently been accused of having my head in the clouds and I'd like to know what it's really like."

"Fun..." Aisling breathes, looking distant for a moment, perhaps a look like Folly gets when talking about music. With a bit of a shake she comes back to the present, "Better sans wyverns, of course." She smiles.