Once in the hallway, Celina turns seaward and leads them towards family suites. "As you may have guessed, I'm Celina. You're Paige. I don't know the names of your children or what has happened in Amber." Her voice is gentle. "I'm a Seaward cousin, daughter of King Corwin." She smiles at some hidden jest.
"And sister to Merlin," Paige finishes as if that alone has defined their relationship more than any other ties. "This is Brooke," she says indicating the girl with blue eyes, "And her brother Leif. Children, this is Celina," she finishes.
"We can talk about Amber after settling the children, if that's agreeable," Paige suggests, her eyes gesturing left and then right.
"That's well indeed," responds Celina with a nod. She leads Paige through a few hallways until suites with windows begin to pass them. Celina opens a particular door and steps aside. "Here." She gestures to a very plain room facing the ocean. "The bed is fresh made. There is a selection of throws for warmth."
Paige ushers the children toward the bed. She chooses covers for them, instinctively finding teal for Leif and one on the blue side of aqua for his sister.
Celina goes to the windows and begins to draw drapes there. "This is my room. You are welcome to it through until tomorrow breakfast. With the scarcity of servants it would be a more complex matter to find something suitable and ready to use." She turns. "Plus I've looked this place over myself, so I feel better about leaving children alone here, if you intend to."
"Mother, please do not leave us alone. Brooke is still scared." says the boy.
"I am not, but I need to clean up", says the girl, frowning. "Mother, are Leif and I forest gods now that Father and his sister are dead?"
Celina considers the girl and takes solemn comfort from her frown. Dead. What father and what sister? What gods for that matter? I never heard that Amber had gods. Celina looks at Leif and then at the lady who has lost a god-mate. "I spoke out of turn. Settling will obviously not be a simple matter. What can I do to help?"
Paige covers her surprise quickly by stepping past her children and Brooke's question and turning to face Celina. "Don't worry now, either of you. I'm not planning on going anywhere," she reassures the twins. "Children, you should thank Celina for her concern and the use of her room," she suggests with a nod toward the woman at the windows. Paige seems happy to see her earlier impression proven out in Merlin's sister.
With a moment to compose herself, she releases her grip on the throws and allows the color to return to her knuckles. Finding a chair she regards her daughter. A hand covers Paige's mouth, as if she's afraid of what she might ask her daughter, or perhaps more so of what Brooke might answer.
"Honey, what do you know of your Father and the gods of Arcadia?" she asks.
Brooke recites, as if she's been asked a question in school. "In the ancient of days, before fixity, Father's Grandmother roamed freely, a Lord of the Living Void. Following the Fixation, she found herself locked into a form, a gender, and a locality. She formed the Great Forest around her as an oyster forms a pearl. For most of time she was dormant, resting from her efforts to protect her vision from the imposed vision. Successive waves of the children and grandchildren of the outsider came to her forest, some in peace and some arrayed for war."
Leif stands and continues her recitation.
"Her half-ordered children were goddesses, Britomartis, Lalal, Artemis, Calliste, and Arianhod. Other gods and goddesses came into being, but it was the five with the Ordered Taint who were real. Having the Taint of Order, they quarrelled, and Artemis betrayed her mother and bore children to a Son of Order."
Brooke nods. "Artemis was the parent of Daeon who, with his sister Dione, kept his Grandmother from returning to her natural state of freedom."
Leif replies. "Our Father's Aunt Calliste has two children who would try to take our father's place, but it is rightfully ours. Our grandmother wants us to live and our great-grandmother wants us to die."
Swallowing the tale is not hard considering the mien of the youngsters. Celina finds the stone and sea at her back a comfort. It is very hard not to react with horror when she hears the repeated pattern of mothers and grandmothers struggling to master or kill their children. Her mind fills with the names. Merlin. Brooke. Leif.
Sorrow would be the dance to go with this. Then should it also include me? Did Moire need some sort of lineage sacrifice to free old powers and set Rebma high in some order I can't guess at? Was Lir a Lord of the Living Void? Or does this have nothing to do with the unrest in Rebma?
Celina fingers the torn seam at her shoulder and measures Paige's face.
Brooke sits. She seems to be shivering slightly, although the room does not seem cold. "May I have some water? I'm tired." Her exertions seem to have caught up with her.
Leif goes over to the sideboard, looking for a pitcher and a glass. He doesn't seem overly alert, either.
Celina comes unstuck from the seaward wall of the room. She moves to the bed and turns down the soft duvet. Keeping track of Leif's movements, she steps to the sturdy ash shrunk and pulls a thick robe from the hangers. Holding it out in front of her, she approaches Brooke. "Brooke, would you like to cuddle in some warmth before you rest?"
Paige has smoothed her skirt now three seperate times before removing her Trumps from her pocket. Not looking at them, she shuffles and cuts the cards mechanically before setting them on the table beside her. She's at Leif's side as soon as she registers his fatigue. A few quick steps and she's taking the water from him and carrying it to Brook as she leads him to the bed.
"You should rest now," she decides with her best Dr. Mom tone. If he allows, she'll tuck him under the covers. "We'll talk of your grandmother and how you know all of this when you've rested. You two just grew near a baker's dozen of years, I'm sure you need the rest." Her gaze goes to Brooke, gentler than that offered Leif, hopeful it seems.
The twins climb into bed and are asleep in moments. It looks to the two adults as if they've reached out and clasped hands under the covers.
Celina gestures to a doorway that leads to the adjoining room of her suite, then points at the door to the hall. It's obviously an either-or offer to Paige.
Paige gathers her cards again from the table and smiles thanks as she heads for the ajoining door. She leaves the door open and chooses a seat that lets her see if not the twins, then at least the bed.
"Thank you, Celina," the redhead offers, the seaward lass's name filled with trust and love. "For everything. Merlin was right, I do like you." Then she collapses into the chair like a marionette with cut from its strings, her Trumps in her lap.
"Merlin." Celina whispers and wonders if Dara is the attacker in distant Amber. She shakes off the thought and pulls a chair closer to Paige. She steps away to pour two tumblers of water for them to share. "Your children spoke with conviction about that history, yet their curiousity about their father's death seemed to lack some emotional resonance."
Celina gives Paige a glass of water. She takes a seat herself.
Paige answers slowly, her eyes closed. "Today, as he sacrificed himself, was the first they've ever met him. What ever history, whatever they know of him, they know from someone else."
"All they'll ever know is from someone else," she adds with a sense of finality. "Hell, I don't... didn't... even know him more than an afternoon."
A woman raising a child without a mate's influence or regard; without even a flavor of what that history could mean to her child. Celina studies Paige. Worry. Exhaustion. All this and Amber's own turmoil as background.
"Well, Paige," Celina offers, mentally crossing her fingers, "you can seek a male balance through his bloodline. Does he have a father? It might ease things to build a bridge there."
"Yes, Uncle Julian has already offered support," Paige agrees. "I'm not worried about balance, not yet." She seems to notice the Trumps in her lap again and wraps them back in their golden silk. "I'm worried that I couldn't protect babies. That I let the prospect of their Father's return sidetrack me from keeping them safe."
Julian. Father of Adonis. More pieces to fit. Celina laces her fingers in her lap.
She sighs quietly. "That I haven't the decade that most parents get to prepare for teens, and that I can't face their great-grandmother. Also, I'm fairly certain that the enemy of my enemy is not my friend, at least not in their grandmother's case."
I wonder how Merlin keeps up with the local vendettas? Celina thinks on Paige's comments. Something about Paige's posture prompts Celina to stir the water a bit. "If it isn't too obvious a question: why so? The grandmother wants them to live. No common ground there?"
"No, because her thought isn't for the children, but for herself. Their life ensures her primacy, not her love." She shrugs, "Or at least that's what I've been led to believe."
Celina nods.
Paige looks thougtfully at Celina. "Don't suppose you have a Trump of Uncle Julian to hand, do you?"
The Seaward girl smiles. "Bleys gave me commands and his deck." She pulls the plush tunic out at her waist so a hand can snake beneath and fetch the case from her waistband just behind her hip. "Lir only knows the etiquette in a situation like this, but I believe he is your father. I suppose he won't mind. Won't he have a Trump of Julian?" She offers the leather case casually, while watching Paige's eyes for the answer.
Paige accepts the offered case with obvious thanks. "I'm not this will be of any help. The last I heard, his Julian was on loan to cousin Brennan." She thumbs through her father's cards looking for the black and white of hair and armor. Or perhaps she could find her father's and give into the desire to hide behind his broad shoulders.
When she notices that it's not there she looks up to Celina. "What commands?" she asks.
"Inform Gerard that Vialle was in the castle," Celina answers. "Tell that Bleys had gone to Amber's defense. Make sure there wasn't other information the king should have." She shrugs. She licks her lips. "Is Merlin part of this? Is he all right?"
"I'm sure he is," Paige reassures her cousin. "The only danger that I know... knew of... was a Ranger, who on consideration must be a half-brother to the twins, who had been unconscious in the infirmary.
"Merlin was seeing to the Queen's safety, far from the battle that Adonis drew to an end." She recognizes how disjointed her recitation must be. "I'm sorry, I suppose I can tell you what I know and what I suppose, if you want to hear it."
"What I want isn't what I need right this minute," Celina says. "Your needs--your recent experience is weighing heavily on you. What do you think you need? How can I help? I somehow think that talking about the incident won't make your first morning in Xanadu a bright one." Celina has leaned forward a bit, looking into Paige's eyes.
"I fear it's too late already," the mother sighs.
Celina wonders: What might I do driven into such a corner of despair? Her Lord seems to have stood aegis while the children were rushed to safety. She sucks at her lower lip studying Paige's pale beauty.
"What do I need? I don't suppose you've a good single malt hidden around here?" she asks rhetorically. "There's something I've never considered. How did Jerod keep his whiskey back home?"
"Bottles," Celina says automatically with a wry smile. "Same as you folks do." She slides from her deep chair and stands with the beginnings of an idea. "I don't have a personal bar."
"What I need? A grip on what the hell is happening to my children and how to protect them," she rambles on. "A man that I don't run off or decides that he'd rather be ashtray leavings before spending eternity with a headcase like me. A lover that doesn't betray..."
Celina smothers the flinch in her stomach at that. Ashtray? Pyre? Oh, Lir.
Her eyes are liquid emerald as they find Celina's, trailing diamonds over her pale cheeks.
The Seaward girl moves a half step to Paige and holds out her hands. The morning light gleams behind her from the tall windows. "I have a suggestion. Tears are all to the good. Take my hand, lovely lady, I'll introduce you to a lover who won't betray and will protect your children as if they were the finest treasures of the most stalwart heart."
Lover? Paige thinks. I can't... Wait, introduce? The mother looks back toward the bedroom, uncertain. After a moment she nods slowly, not caring to about the tears and the darkening green silk. She lays her hands in Celina's and stands. "Lead on, gracious lady."
The soft green hands slip into Paige's pale ones. Celina feels a jitter beneath her skin and can't tell if it is nerves or something more dramatic. She leads Paige gently, using a TaKhi grace brings them both to the windows. She eases very close to Paige. Her grip is gentle but sure now. "Tears are part of the way we are supposed to work. Everything here respects that. Things that don't work that way aren't of this place." Celina nods to the horizon. "You haven't even made your first sleep and you're safer here than Amber. A week from now will be better still. The sentinel is already on the job. Smell the sunshine here? It's like ethereal honey. Feel the wind? That's your children's heritage and companion."
They stand together at the window frame. The sheer curtains idle under teasing nudges of the wind from the sea. Celina leans a bit on Paige, then shifts her arms to hold her in a maternal circle.
"If you love Xanadu," Celina whispers, "you'll find no betrayal in the aegises."
Red locks tumble over green skin as Xanadu's sun seems to burn away Paige's strength and she trusts the Rebman to support her. "In Xanadu did Kublai Kahn a stately pleasure-dome decree," she recites.
Celina doesn't know the line but the sentiment touches her.
"I don't claim to have more of it than that, but Coleridge wrote even then of ancestral voices prophesying war. Shadows echoing our lives before we live it, eh?" Paige jokes, warmth returning to her voice. Her cheek comforted by the coolness of Celina's arm.
"Yes, it's home. Someplace I should've brought them long before now," she whispers. "This is my fault Celina... I could've prevented it, saved them from... maybe saved him."
Celina doesn't shrug, though she thinks it. The gesture would be too easy to misconstrue. "You have saved them. They rest in the next room." She chews at her lip a moment before adding the next with less surety. "Him. He did something beyond a choice that you had in your hand, I think. Your 'maybe' is completely intangible. Don't fret on it."
Paige nods. "I should tell Julian, I think." She looks up at her cousin through spiky lashes. "I know what happened, but I truly can't answer why..."
Celina nods. She knows how short she is of 'why' these days.
"I need to wash up myself and find a change of clothes, as I obviously won't be conjuring any here," she decides, her tone rallying against the dispair in her eyes.
Celina smiles at the tone--and it's huge--straight down into the green despair wells.
A thought occurs and she asks, "Is Folly still here?" Obviously she's not been in the room, so she must be speaking of Xanadu.
A thought says 'no'. The next one arrives with 'yes'. Celina cocks her head. "I think she might be. She was here before the injured arrived." Folly really would not want to miss court. Starfish. Court. I was invited. Celina clears her throat. "The little room is right through there. A good wash would set you a balance."
Paige straightens as does her resolve, "Then that's what I need, a chance to clear myself before I face the Fortunes and Uncle Julian."
And so Celina slowly releases her encircling support of Paige.
"Could I ask you to watch over the children," Paige asks uncertainly as she turns her eyes back toward the sleeping twins. She clarifies so as to not offend Celina, "I trust you, I just don't trust... well, most anyone else, including myself.
"I'll make it as quick as possible," she adds, already unlacing her bodice.
"I would be honored," replies Celina. As Paige begins to undress, Celina moves a step along the wall and puts herself closer to the twin's room. She leans on the seaward wall, but eyes the bedroom through the doorway. "I will call out if I need you."
Paige leaves the door ajar and takes no more than five minutes, peeking out to ensure that everything is alright no less than seven times. When she emerges fully most of the escaping wisps of hair seem planned and her dress is as tidy as possible considering Brooke's earlier attentions.
Celina stands sentinel and doesn't seem to mind the recurring checks by Paige. There is something comforting about watching the twins sleep.
She collects her own Trumps and her father's case from a table and joins Celina. "You've been a wonderful friend, I hope I haven't kept you from anything."
Celina shakes her head. "This has been a morning to scatter my plans and thoughts of what I'd be doing. I doubt I could have spent it better than to help you and yours. Feel free to make the room your own as long as you need it, please." Celina does Paige the courtesy of eyeing her up and down to insure that she's ordered again. Habits of the Rebman court translate well in that regard.
Paige smiles the simple thanks that is left within her today. Words would somehow tarnish the gesture.
Then Celina catches up with something else she forgot and lifts a hand in gesture to the case Paige has picked up. "Oh. Wait." Celina reaches into the waistband under her tunic. She pulls a trump from her skirt and extends it to Paige. "I was going to Trump your father when things calmed. I'm not sure that's really happened yet. I'll talk to him at some point today. In the meantime, this should go back in his case."
"If he trusted you with his deck, I don't think there's any reason you shouldn't speak with him when you have a chance, and that card is your best hope at getting hold of him," she answers, not accepting the card yet.
"Of course, calling Father was my next course of action, I think," Paige explains. "You might stay and join the conversation if he has a moment."
"Ah," Celina lifts the card to tickle her chin while she considers. "Well, if things are already in hand, I would like to know if he's planning on being back here soon." She nods. "Thank you. If he can take time to speak to us, I'd just as soon find out now." And it would be a good sign that things aren't too badly stirred back in Amber.
Paige extends her hand to accept the card from her Seaward Cousin, and flips it over to regard her father standing before the library fireplace, wine in hand. The eyes always seemed to resolve first, bringing warmth to the delicious coolness of the Trump...
Bleys' voice comes through the connection. "Who?" he asks.
"It's me, Father," Paige answers steadily.
On receiving Paige's reply, he says "Bide a moment." Then the trump connection solidifies and he's standing by a window somewhere in Castle Amber.
"Celina's with me, and would join us if you're agreeable," she begins.
Paige asks without preface, "Is the Dragon truly gone from the Castle?"
Dragon! Celina chews her lower lip and moves a half step closer to Paige to see if a bystander may 'see' the connection to Bleys.
[Normal rules apply. If Celina joins in, she's in, otherwise she only hears Paige's side.]
Celina edges closer and closer, performing an experimental investigation and with an ear cocked for Paige to warn her off whether from unheard denial from Bleys or some other arcane threshold. Her Seaward green eyes hunt for the edges of the induction to mystery. Her extended fingers swim closer with tantalizing discipline, expectant of connection. Perhaps Paige's aura would be powerful enough that I'll hear or see something before I touch the card?
Bleys' mouth compresses into a thin line. "Gone for now, but the echoes of her visit will reverberate for some time. Caine and I are looking into the physical defenses of Amber. How are you?", he asks. "And the children?" he adds.
And then Celina can feel the chill edge of the card. Just as suddenly she perceives the serious mein of Bleys standing by a window even as they are standing by a castle window in Xanadu. She smiles.
"Save some scratches and bites from a possessed daughter and the shock over the loss of their father, I'm fine," she tries to convince her father. She is definitely putting on the brave face.
"The twins? Adolescent, tired, concerned that the Dragon wants them dead, Artemis wants them alive, and... oh, is it their place to take Adonis and his sister's place as the gods of Arcadia," she asks not half as flippant as the words might sound. "Other than that, they're sleeping.
"Celina has been very kind to us," Paige adds with a smile, the first genuine one of the contact.
Bleys smiles at Celina, radiantly. "And to me as well, this morning. Hmm. Given that the children weren't speaking so coherently when last I saw them, the rumor would be true then."
He pauses. "I don't think we'll let this go unanswered."
Celina looks ironic. How strange. Not an hour ago I was thinking the same thing about a completely different problem.
"When the time allows, call and send me Rides-in-the-Vanguard. He should've arrived with Conner and the Sun earlier there," she suggests. "I'd like a loyal blade at their side when I join you."
Bleys eyebrows raise, but he doesn't say anything as Paige continues.
"Do you know if anyone has contacted the Warden?" Paige asks.
"Now, dear, it's frightfully unkind to describe a man that way, even if he is in a prison of his own making. Especially when he's so recently bereaved.
"Martin is in charge here, and I haven't heard that he has or that he hasn't. Unless he needs avuncular advice, he's running the show."
Celina smiles at Paige's profile and shifts her eyes back to Bleys. "I hope you'll come see me when you get back to Xanadu, Uncle. I have some thoughts I'd like to test with you."
Bleys nods at the Seaward lass.
"You know I have nothing but respect for Uncle Julian, father, but this has more to do with his duties there than his ties to me," Paige answers pointedly. "I chose the correct word to convey the the correct context, as the children will be happy to recite for you." The color has risen in her cheeks again, but it isn't a happy blush.
"If the Prince wishes, I will speak with my children's grandfather. He has my Trump," Paige adds, controlling herself.
Oh there's bruises there. Celina watches for Bleys' counter with pursed lips.
"I suspect we will see each other all too soon, wearing black and looking somber. Your uncle Benedict wanted to 'teach Chaos a lesson' to prevent this kind of thing, you know," he shakes his head. "I hope he was merely speaking to rally the troops, because otherwise he was as ineffective as Canute."
He blinks. "Speaking of Kings, what's Random doing? We haven't heard from him, that I know of."
A pause, then Celina offers, "Court, I believe, Uncle. Probably finishing sometime soon."
"Court?" Paige asks with surprise. "I hadn't even thought...
"My apologies, Father, but my focus has been on the children," she answers. "Celina can tell you more of Xanadu than the infirmary and these rooms."
"I'm sure my brother will want to show off his latest enthusiasm at some point, so I wouldn't want to spoil his fun too much. We'll want to have your Aunt look at the children after they've had a chance to sleep. See what we can do to protect them.
"Do you all need anything else? Celina, I need to finish up here with Caine before I can indulge in social matters, so we'll have to rendezvous later to discuss matters."
"So I supposed," Celina responds. "I'll look forward to that, Uncle Bleys."
"Come soon," Paige suggests, her tone hopeful.
He nods. "Soon as I can."
When Bleys allows, Paige passes her hand over the card, breaking the connection.
[Bleys allows, and the connection closes.]
And when/if the Trump call ends, Celina will smile and say to Paige, "Maybe now is a good time to rest, since those two children and the people who will want to speak to them and fuss over them will be keeping you watchful for a long time, Paige."
"Perhaps," Paige nods.
She heads into the bedchamber and sits at the edge of the bed, watching them. "They're innocents," the redhead says. "More than I ever was. They don't deserve this, Celina."
"They should have the ability to make their own way and their own mistakes, not to have mine and Adonis's forced upon them," Paige proclaims, stroking Leif's sleeping form protectively.
Such a wonderful sentiment. Celina's eyes blur with water for a moment. She takes a long steady breath. "Yes and yes and if you could watch all directions at once, including the past and future, you would be a mother which all others would forever envy and fear." Celina discovers twining through her joints a helix of equal parts violence and TaKhi balance. She eases a step closer to the windows in an effort to clear her head while she continues. She shakes back her green locks as a mnemonic force vibrates insider her with the names of Amber's young weighed down under a plethora of parental maelstroms. "Yet all I've seen since the truth of my lineage was given to me is that the young are markers for parental mistakes and hostages to the hidden agendas of their elders. The legends seem to require the young be born twice: once of wet darkness and then again when our parents' mythic past is about to suffocate our future."
Celina stops right there and puts a hand over her mouth. Her expression reads wounded but also surprised at what she's said. The combination hurts her face. There is a fleeting image of Merlin's pale and strained face telling her about Benedict's attack on him. She stares awkwardly at Paige and a thought slips into that silence. I choose to be born, Moire, even if it kills you.
Celina wishes she had met Adonis.
Paige nods quietly and stands. If allowed, she wraps her arms about her Seaward cousin, offering the last strength she has, acknowledging the shared experience. Her emerald gaze speaks of more to be said, but she doesn't speak. She appreciates a time where two people don't feel obligated to fill in the silences. Someone that knows Paige better might be surprised that she didn't kiss the woman.
Celina's arms twine around Paige in turn. So close, Paige can feel the sigh from the Seaward girl.
When the embrace ends, she nods again once. "You're right. I should rest," the redhead agrees. She unlaces her bodice and makes some room beside the twins, laying her head beside theirs. Paige smiles her thanks and closes her eyes more from mental fatigue than any physical exhaustion.
Celina hesitates then moves to the window of the adjoining room. She opens the casements to perch there with one leg in the room and one dangling above the outer wall. The wind teases at her hair finally satisfied to play with one heavy strand.
Celina will stand the watch until the mid-day meal. She judges Paige needs at least that much. The horizon is quiet but not still, just like the young woman straddling choices.
After Conner departs for court, Brita decides to rest for a little while. Between her injuries and the medication she received before she left the infirmary, she quickly falls asleep. When she wakes up again, she suspects several hours have passed.
There don't appear to be servants about, so she doesn't think she can send for things. She may have to go looking for dinner to appease her grumbly stomach. Perhaps she could find a place with art supplies, too.
Brita has a small pad of paper and a couple of pencils with her all the time as Master Reid taught her to always be prepared with on-going threats of a pop quiz; but in wandering the halways of Xanadu looking for the kitchens, she realizes she will need color and lots of it to capture this new realm. Red tones for the stone that makes up much of the palace . A variety of blues from the sky to the water cascading down beside the balcony off the great hall and into the bay. Deep greens for the vast forests stretching to the South that she can see from wall above the entrance gate.
When she thinks about it, Brita also realizes that the art supplies she was carrying when she tried to save Adonis' life are probably damaged, if not burned to unusability. She could make quick sketches with them, but if she tried to imbue them with any trump power, they would make it more difficult. She'll want to replace them before she tries a proper trump attempt.
In her search, her main desires drive her to a small hallway off the front wall of the palace. The hall curves slightly and ends in a wooden door, carved with trees and flowers. When she opens the door, she enters a circular chamber - the base of one of the palace towers. Across from her is an archway leading out to a small garden that looks amazingly like a colorized version of the carving on the door. To her right is the foot of a narrow stairway curling upward into the dimness above. She begins to climb, her right hand trailing along the stone wall which warms as she circles towards the side touched by the sun.
The spiral of the stair tightens on the long trek upward. She is about half way up when she can that the stairs end at a small landing below a narrow window - letting in little light through a trellised grating. //Perhaps it is a lookout position// she thinks, as she continues a little farther up the steps. She is about to turn back down when her trailing right hand catches on an odd edge along the wall. She stops, but her eyes can make out only smooth stone along the wall as she examines it in the dim light filtering from the garden door below and the small window above. She rubs her hand along the wall and again feels the edge dipping inward. She leans into it for a closer look - wishing she had brought a candle or torch - and hears a faint click. She presses harder and hears another click. Finally, using some of the Strength of her Heritage, she pushes hard with both hands against the wall and is rewarded by the sight of the wall dipping inward and sliding to the side, revealing a separate, even narrower stairway spiraling alongside the first.
Brita steps into the space and her weight seems to trigger the door to slide closed. Oddly, her way is now well lit from above. She continues up the stair, realizing that the tapering of the inner stair allowed this stairway to exist without being obvious to anyone on the inside or outside of the tower. She continues up the rest of the way and finds this stair opening to a round room, made larger than would be expected by the fact that it is part of the tower cap. The light comes from a band of windows extending three quarters of the way around.
Brita moves towards the windows. They would be hidden from below by the curve of the onion-shaped tower cap, but they provide a stunning view of the tree laden valley to the South, the ocean to the East, and the tree-topped cliffs to the North. The room is furnished simply: a large table with two chairs, an easel, a simple rug, a low bench. Two wide sets of shelves below the windows contain an assortment of jars, brushes, rolled papers, and other such equipment that has Brita's eyes sparkling.
A loud growl of neglect from her stomach echoes strangely in the chamber, startling Brita from her perusal of the treasures she has found. //Uncle Random's Xanadu provides for Every need. I will need to repay both of them,// she thinks as she selects a few pieces of colored chalk to take with her for sketching. //Now to find the kitchens...//
Brita makes her way back down the stair and into the main hall. With help from one of the guards, she's able to find her way to the kitchens. There are several figures moving about in the kitchens: Paige and her children.
[OOC: You can join that thread or briefly grab something to eat and move on. Either way, we'll defer this next bit.]
Over the next few days, Brita is often found in odd places around the palace, always near a window or balcony or in a spot with a view. Her sketchbook is always beside her - closed. Obviously, she could not have been sketching with the bandages still on her hands....
Last modified: 7 July 2005