After a fortnight, Silhouette has attuned herself enough to the ebb and flow of Xanadu castle to arrange for a private dinner with the Royal Couple and herself. In her spare time - what little there is - she tours the docks and markets, selecting items for each of the five courses. The foods range from the familiar to the exotic, a perfectly balanced meal to allow for both pleasure and business. She also chooses an outside location (a balcony overlooking the lagoon, perhaps) to dine, so that Vaille might benefit from the setting sun and cooling night on her skin.
The arrangements, made through Random's Secretary Gilt Winter, go remarkably well. Her invitation is accepted within days.
She also makes certain that a fourth place is provided should Ember invariably join them. As much of a nuisance as the guardian may be, Silhouette recognizes her important connection to the Queen. If she is to win Vaille over, she must woo Ember as well.
Two gifts await them on the table. Random's is the smaller, simpler of the two packages, wrapped in white rice paper. Vaille's is much larger and heavier, wrapped in bark paper - leaves and ferns pressed into the surface - to provide a more tactile experience for the opener. Both 'presents' have dominated the majority of her stay in Xanadu; but circumstance has at least provided her with plenty of time to meet their individual challenges.
When the hour approaches, she opens a bottle of red wine to breathe and then waits patiently for her guests to arrive.
Random arrives, approximately on time, with Vialle on his arm. Neither Gilt nor Ember are present. The Queen is in a sea-green gown with lace that looks like foam, and the King wears tights and a doublet.
They approach and wait.
Silhouette smiles in welcome - expertly hiding her pleasure of having them to herself. She has chosen a swirling, baroque-patterned dress of midnight purple. With a curtsy, she says, "My King. My Queen. You honor me with your company tonight. Please be seated." She moves aside so Random can assist his wife.
Random helps Vialle to her seat, then sits across his, his legs dangling over the left arm.
Silhouette smiles lightly at Random's intriguing sense of decorum.
Once they've taken their place, she joins them at the table. "You are both well, I hope?" In truth, the question is more for Random, as she has been a constant companion for Vialle in the last two weeks - their walks one of the highlights of her daily routine.
"Hmm. Deep. Cool. Liquid on the inside. Deadly to anyone who falls in." Random nods. "Yes, I believe I am well. Very astute of you to notice." He looks across the table.
Her smile brightens as she meets his gaze, "I do have my moments of sagaciousness."
She reaches out and lightly touches the top of the Queen's hand, "And you are the height of beauty tonight, my Queen. I have a gift for you tonight." She politely guides the blind woman's hand to the package.
"Would you prefer to open your gifts before the first course or at the conclusion of the evening?" She asks this of both of them.
"Oh, let's do it now, " replies Random. "So that if we die of a surfeit of eels, we'll at least not die of curiosity..."
He reaches for his own and rips the paper off the package.
He discovers a leather-bound notebook. In delicate handwriting, Silhouette has outlined the step-by-step construction of Random's sound/mixing board. They are accompanied by intricate schema for the individual components and assembly instructions for overcoming Xanadu's paradigm restrictions. Beautiful by itself, the book is truly a masterpiece of Rube Goldbergian genius. "I've spoken to Soren and he agrees this design should provide you with the abilities you require. It will require several trips into Shadow or the construction of a machine shop for parts, but I'm certain you can overcome those difficulties."
Random thumbs through the notebook. "I can? Excellent! It's good to know I'm capable." He tosses the book down onto the wrapping paper. "Thank you."
Silhouette smiles, "You are most welcome, my King. We can discuss the next stage of project later, if you still wish me to proceed."
Random nods. "Let me read it first."
Vialle takes her gift and opens it carefully, running her fingers over the surfaces and edges before unwrapping it.
Vialle discovers a polished wooden frame beneath the wrapping. Nine metal plates - each surprisingly light - have been set into it like puzzle pieces; 3 X 3. Indeed, that is exactly what it is. Although difficult to discern with the human eye, the side of each plate has been etched with elaborate designs; the countless textures and grooves detectable by touch. "There are five possible combinations," Silhouette explains. "Each representing the living incarnations of the five classical elements. I do hope they will provide you with at least some amusement before you figure them all out." She laughs warmly.
Vialle laughs with her, and thanks her, sincerely, for the present. Random looks at his wife quizzically as she sets it aside for the duration of dinner, but says nothing.
Silhouette squeezes the woman's hand, positively glowing with excitement.
Vialle squeezes back, briefly.
After the gifts are set aside, she gestures to the 'invisible' servants to begin the first course. They soon appear with plates of antipasto - baccalà paté, mushrooms, anchovies, artichoke hearts, various cheeses, and peperone. They top the plates with a hint of olive oil and retreat for the time being.
Silhouette spears a heart and twirls it in oil, "In the last fortnight, I have been approached by my cousins regarding Huon and my affiliation with him. Our conversations have ranged from polite interest to the conspiratorial. During those conversation, certain aspects of his behavior have also come to light. Aspects I do not condone nor can ignore. As such, perhaps it is time we concluded our negotiations, so I might unshackle myself from Lord Huon's yoke?"
"Well, sure," replies Random, popping a mushroom into his mouth. "But perhaps after dinner would be better. Regale us with your insights into your cousins. That would be far more mete, and we are omnivorous in our hunger for knowledge." He starts poking at the cheeses and anchovies, piling cheese on Vialle's plate, and taking the small fish for himself.
Silhouette nods in agreement, "Very well." She pauses between cousins to sip her wine or grab a morsel of food. She also makes certain to divide her attention to Random and Vialle equally, so that she is not continually speaking away from the Queen. "I have only encountered seven cousins thus far.
"The first was your son, Garrett. He is polite, curious, and agreeable in a charmingly rustic manner. I believe he is adaptable and eager to learn, deferring to his peers at the appropriate moments. He is also physically able and well-versed in the martial ways. However, he lacks self-confidence at a fundamental level and his station does not rest well upon his young shoulders. But, that is to be expected, considering." She spears another artichoke, casting a sympathetic look in Vialle's direction.
Vialle does look concerned for Garrett, but not as quickly as Silhouette might have expected. Perhaps it took her a moment to realize what Silhouette was referring to.
Random gestures Silhouette on, with a piece of cheese.
"I encountered Conner at the same time as your son. A born ambassador. Loyal, well-spoken, and cautious. However, he possesses a willingness to engage with people, even if they're viewpoints are divergent or antithetic to his own. Not a common, but certainly welcome quality. I am rather impressed by his eidetic memory. Another useful trait for an ambassador. A trait some of my other cousins might benefit from."
This description evokes a slight smile from Vialle.
"Ossian," she says, pausing to savor the name. "An artist. Open-minded, creative, shy in his own way. Extremely observant, but sometimes lost in his esoteric nature. He is another that listens without judgment. I am rather fond of him and find his company soothing.
"Not so with my other close companion, Robin. But that is not a negative quality. She reminds me of the Eumenídes; the Kindly Ones. Wild, almost mad, but possessing chthonic wisdom and insight. She is perhaps your most loyal servant, even if her wyld nature can blind her at inopportune moments. I adore her tremendously and would want no other at my side during a fight. Were she to ask, I would be her Second in the approaching honor duel.
"And then there are Brennan and Jerod," her expression sours slightly.
"Brennan styles himself a savant, but suffers from arrogance, bordering on elitism. This obscures his otherwise respectable insight; clouding his observations and judgments to subtle nuances that are 'beneath' him. I suspect Stagnation is at fault; a common affliction for intellectuals of great age. He tried to turn me against Huon and did raise certain doubts - despite his ham-handed manner.
"As for Jerod," she slices into the last piece of fish on her plate. "He reminds me of the stonefish that lurked in the shallows in my home Shadow. Cold, efficient, protean, vigilant. Beautiful and cunning predators. And yet revealing their thorns at the most unlikely provocations, bordering on the cantankerous." She chuckled softly. "And like the stonefish, he made for interesting sport. I learned more from him than I think he realizes."
There's a momentary pause in Vialle's careful, methodical consumption of the artichoke hearts.
Silhouette sets her fork aside, "And, most recently, Signy." She hides her soft smile behind her napkin, but Vialle will likely hear the low purr in her voice. "She intrigues me."
Vialle's eyebrows rise slightly.
She gestures to the servants to begin the second course: a pleasantly seasoned consommé.
"Fascinating," Random says, although it is not clear from his manner that he is fascinated. "Now, let's get more fascinating. What do you think that they made of you?"
Silhouette pauses until the servants have retired. She punctuates her thoughts with polite pauses to eat her soup. "Although initially wary, Garret's enthusiasm and voracious desire for knowledge warmed him to me. He likely views me as a welcome curiosity to be exploded.
"Conner, in the same manner, began our interchange with suspicion. However, after our sparring, he relaxed somewhat. He showed genuine concern when I was injured, as well as of my involvement with Huon - and the difficulties that affiliation would invite. I believe he sees me as a contemporary; although still too young to be a true peer."
She dabs her lips with her napkin before taking a sip of wine. "I entice Ossian. On several levels. Mental, more than physical. He is intrigued by my philosophies and faith. I suspect I could become his muse. Perhaps more. He may even be hopeful that I shall become such. At least until his passion ebbs and a new distraction draws his attention away.
"Robin sees me more as a friend than a cousin - as the status of the latter imparts an emotional distance. Enough trust exists between us for her to lower her defenses and be herself. Her true self, that is. My orderly manner is a welcome - if amusing - counterpart to her chaotic nature. I suspect she finds that appealing, as we balance one another."
She resumes eating, "Brennan thinks me a foolish young woman. One to be guided into the fold like a wayward sheep. I could be potentially useful to him, so that makes me important enough to be tolerated. But otherwise, I doubt he respects me. At least, no more than an adult would a young child.
"Jerod's thoughts of me are far more complex, I suspect," she says, setting her spoon aside. "Unlike Brennan, I believe he respects me; a feeling beyond those fundamental to the Rebman perception of gender. But he certainly does not trust me. Nor does he consider me a member of the Family. Not truly. I have yet to earn that right. He wishes me to prove myself to him. Only then will he make a final summation."
Silhouette folds her hands together and smiles, "And Signy? She likely views me a sister-in-arms. Perhaps more. She feels sympathy for me - even genuine frustration - with regard to my estrangement from my mother. We are also professional peers, so that connection binds us as well."
Random listens to the recitation in silence, taking the opportunity to eat.
"OK," he says. "Bonus question: Why do you think I asked you for this book?", he says, pointing to the book of diagrams and schematics with his fork.
Vialle is listening with interest, but seems to be letting the King handle this portion of the conversation.
Silhouette tilts her head, offering the King an inquiring expression. "There could be several reasons and I doubt the most obvious motivated you.
"You could have requested the codex as a further examination of my pedigree. An artist's essence is reflected in their work. I am certain that you have examined the weapons I provided Huon; my imprint would be on them. That imprint will also be in the book. Even if Lord Huon utilized the Pattern to conjure a passable facsimile of Fiona's daughter and spent it to you, he could not fabricate the knowledge and skills intrinsic to our family.
"It will also provide you with insight into my way of thinking," she adds, taking another sip of wine. "Indeed, with one as observant as yourself, I shall be laid bare."
Random holds up a hand to signal her to stop. "Not at the table, please. The Queen hates the sound of nudity while she's eating."
Vialle's laugh is warm and rich, and the way she cocks her head toward her husband and his smirk, which she seems to know about even though she can't possibly see it, bespeaks a certain marital familiarity.
"Of course. Perhaps later, when the three of us are in a more appropriate setting," Silhouette says in a temperate manner. Her expression is equally unreadable.
The bowls are cleared to make way for the main entree: acqua pazza with shrimp, accompanied by dried-tomato bread for dipping in the broth.
Silhouette refills the wine glasses herself, "So, as you have yet to inform me if I won your bonus round, let me ask you a question. What do you believe I think of you, my King?"
Random leans on his hand. "I think you think you can use me to get what you want."
An effervescent laugh rises from Silhouette's chest, "'Use' you, my King? No. I am not foolish enough to explore that prospect." She pops a sauteed olive into her smiling mouth and savors its salty flavor.
"I 'used' Lord Huon, because it was within my power to do so. His arrogance and passion for vengeance blinded him to outside influences. As such, his actions and reactions were predictable and, therefore, susceptible to my subtle manipulations. You, however, apparently subscribe to the Seventeenth Law - cultivating an air of unpredictability. Outwardly, you play the fool. A flirtatious, irreverent iconoclast with little or no interest in the authority and responsibilities afforded him. But we both know that is not true. I believe behind your jester's mask is a cold, calculating man who is abundantly aware of the power he wield."
Her fork pulls apart the tender flesh of the fish on her plate. "What I desire is to serve you, uncle. And be rewarded for those services, whatever they may be. Nothing more. Nothing less."
Random nods. "So that was me being incredibly lazy, because it's hard not to think that in an imbalanced power relationship like 'Sovereign/Subject'. But being King is about balancing all the subjects' needs in the way I see as best for the Kingdom. I don't consider it bad or wrong that you want to use me, but I have to decide if I want to be used."
He shifts in his chair. "Now, that's where the Family Gifts start to help. Aside from the little things like immortality and having control over shadow, we're all pretty good at telling when we're being fed a line. Family card games are amazing and tense, sort of like being in a band where all the musicians are trying to win." The King shakes his head. "It's pure madness, at that level. Great fun." He pauses.
"Now one of the things about us being us and not not-us is that we're all pretty blunt with each other, because we'll give away more by lying than by telling the truth. This is true even with the kids. We just pick up on it better, maybe not even consciously, but as something that worries at us like a terrier, picking it apart. You can try it, but it's consistently proved to be a losing strategy.
"What works is not always telling everything you know. A typical exchange, back in the day, might've gone 'Hey Bro, whatcha doin?' 'Get stuffed, Eric.' 'You're creating an army to invade, aren't you?' 'Better get to work on the walls, Bro...' That's basically how Eric and Corwin talk, in my head, by the way.
"Anyway, we don't do the whole murder/invasion thing against each other anymore, because we have too much fun teaming up and providing it to the people who want to import it here." He pauses, dramatically.
"Except. For Huon."
Silhouette takes this time to eat, but gains more sustenance from Random?s flavorful words. Her brow rises at his theatrical pause, suspecting what is to follow. She is not disappointed.
"'The villainy you teach me I will execute; and it shall go hard. But I will better the instruction,'" she recites in a distant tone. Her fork settles beside her plate, "For Huon, a thousand years and a million lives shall not equal the pound of flesh owed him. His hate was born in another age."
She tilts her head slightly, "Have you made your decision about him, then? And what of his allies in Gateway?"
Random shrugs. "Gateway needs a lesson and I need an example. Better what my forces will do than what Marius might, were he to put his mind to it."
There is an audible intake of breath from Vialle, who has remained silent until now. She does not speak, however.
The King continues: "What would Huon accept?"
Silhouette takes another forkful and muses for a moment. "Reconciliation," she replies. "He understands the awkward position he finds himself in and views peace more favorably than perpetual conflict. He wishes you to enforce that peace, as well. Once pardoned, he will put down his Vendetta against his brother and serve you, as he served his Father before Bleys' attempted fratricide.
"However, I doubt he holds any illusions that he will simply be forgiven his transgressions against Rebma. As such, you may wish to incarcerate him in his home Shadow. If Prince Bleys has not destroyed it, that is. I believe he desires some connection to a more idyllic time in his life. And his family. Do that and I doubt he will even notice the shackles weighing on his wrists."
She skewers the last piece on her plate, "And he is someone you wish held on a short leash; yet useful in his own ways and not beyond domestication."
"So, a return to the status quo? or the status that was quo prior to Dad's death. Huon goes quietly back to jail, promising not to come out and destroy Rebma or Bleys and for this we keep Khela from pushing him off the stairs into pressure. I'll consider it."
Random spears and eats the last of his food, as well. "How would he be useful? Give me some examples."
Silhouette motions for the plates to be removed and the fourth course provided - an endive, roasted pear, and stilton salad. Once they are alone, she answers his question. "He is an extremely resourceful fellow, as you undoubtedly know. I am certain his skills could be directed to a positive end. He also appears to possess an advanced understanding of the Pattern and interactions of Shadow, which may benefit you. However, my inexperience may cloud my assessment in this regard."
Random listens quietly. He eats the pears but leaves the rest of the salad alone.
"Then, there are his associations with your enemies - and the knowledge he might share about them. If you are to wage war against Gateway, I am certain he can enlighten you as to their capabilities and players involved. I doubt he will maintain his loyalties to them, if given the choice between offering up his own head and theirs. He has also trucked with the Lords of Chaos; another enemy I am sure you wish to know about."
She reaches out and places a protective hand atop Vialle?s. "And, finally, he knows of the Moon-riders, including the goals of their Ghost Queen. Considering that they kidnapped your Lady Wife, I suspect you would desire as much information about them as possible."
Random nods. "All good points. What I'm inclined to offer him is as follows: protection from death or permanent mutilation at the hands of Rebma and Bleys in exchange to submitting to Rebman justice. It'd be up to him to get them to make his sentence light. He also has to actually serve the sentence. Deal's off if he escapes."
There is a quiet smile from Vialle at the last bit.
"Then I shall relay this most generous offer to His Lordship at the earliest convenience," Silhouette says, smiling. She savors a crumb of stilton before coughing uneasily.
"And myself? Shall I be held complicit in Huon's attack? Artificers generally do not share culpability for the actions of their clients, but Rebman justice remains foreign to me."
Random's laugh is like the bark of a seal--deep, short, and echo-y. "Rebman justice remains foreign to me, too, lady. I'll throw in a free pardon for you in the negotiations. To be fair, it should be an easy point to get them to concede. They don't give a flying rat about you. You didn't try to kill them all, directly."
Vialle presses her lips together. If she has something to say about Rebman justice, and she may, this is clearly not the moment when she will say it.
Silhouette glances in Vialle's direction, raising a brow. The woman's silence throughout the conversation both intrigues and disappoints her. She hopes they will be provided a few moments to speak privately, so she might know the woman's true feelings on the subjects discussed.
Her gaze returns to Random, "Thank you. And if they need an artificer to bolster their forces for the possible civil conflict, I am at their service."
After the salads are finished, she indicates that they are ready for dessert. "Should I return to Amber? That is where Lord Huon will expect to find me. And my assistant still resides there, as far as I know."
Random nods. "Unless Caine's done something about him, and he shouldn't have. I never really know what his little inner voices will tell him to do, though, so best you check. Yes, back to Amber and along the route to my hopefully no-longer-homicidal brother."
Silhouette chuckles softly, "I found him rather courteous and pleasant. And straightforward."
Random shrugs.
Dessert consists of an almond tortoni, biscotti, and espresso. Silhouette holds her incredibly hot cup between her fingers, as if drawing comfort from the heat. "May I ask how - or if - I shall serve you once I bring Huon to heel? As cold as this realm may be, I find it - and its people - most hospitable." The last she directs in Vialle's direction. "My skills would be of use in the war with Gateway. Or, equally so, in the continued construction of Xanadu. And rebuilding of Amber, if such plans are underway. I'm certain I can avoid my mother, so as avoid any unnecessary tensions between you."
Random looks up. "First thing you'll need to do is come to some accommodation with your mother. I'm not fond of having to keep the Diet Coke separated from the Mentos."
Silhouette stares at him with a blank expression. "Although I do not recognize the reference, I believe I understand the analogy you are attempting to make, my King. Regrettably, reaching such an accommodation is rather difficult considering that the woman refuses to speak to me at best. And to do me harm, at worst. This difficulty is compounded by my inability to contact her and her avoidance of me.
"However, if you were to arrange a meeting, I would endeavor to reach some amicable relationship with my mother. Even though I suspect such a reunion would be the Family equivalent of placing two badgers in a silk purse."
"You either have large purses or small badger where you come from," replies the King. "You may tell your mother it is my desire, but you will, as they say, shoot your own dog. You will prove your resourcefulness by not using me to back your play on this one, Lady Silhouette."
"Dinner was excellent. My complements to you and your assistants." The King rises and extends his hand to his wife, who has reached for him as he stands. He helps the Queen to her feet.
"The pleasure was mine," Silhouette says, standing. She goes to each and places a polite kiss on their cheek. "I wish you both a pleasant evening. You shall have a report of my efforts, both political and maternal, in short order."
She lingers beside Vialle, "And I do hope we may share one final walk tomorrow morning, my Queen? There are things I would like to say before I depart."
Vialle smiles warmly at Silhouette. "My schedule should accommodate that, my dear."
Random scoops up the book. "I've got some reading to do, so each of us to his and/or her tasks."
In her room, Signy pens a quick note to Brita, before handing it to a page for delivery.
Cousin:
I was hoping you might have some time to meet later this morning -- I wanted to talk with you about the chain that we brought back from the rescue of the Queen. I'll be in one of the King's conservatories, if you have the time I would love to talk.
Yours faithfully,
Signy
The appointed time finds Signy standing near a window, looking out at the town below, a mug of coffee in her hand, and a service with a pot of coffee and tea on a table beside her.
Brita arrives promptly. "Cousin," She says as she moves to the tea service and pours herself a cup. She then pulls a small silk wrapped package from an inner pocket and sets it on the table. Flicking the folds open, she reveals a small silver chain. "What did you Wish to Discuss about This?"
Signy offers a hesitant smile as Brita arrives, unsure how she'll be received by Brita on a more personal interaction.
As she unwraps the chain, she involuntarily leans towards it, staring intently as if hoping to draw out all of its secrets with her scrutiny alone.
"Thank you for bringing that," she says quietly, leaning back. "I was talking with Edan and Garrett about the Moonriders after the Family meeting in Paris." Slight pauses before their names, still uncertain as to what honorifics should be used. "We seem to be at a bit of an impasse, as we don't have a lot of indirect avenues to explore with them."
She inhales quickly, rushing to the heart of her request. "I...we.... We were wondering if we might be able to investigate the chain, to see if there's anything in it that might be of interest."
She pauses, looking nervously at Brita and trying to gauge her reaction.
Brita is nodding along with the explanation and the nodding continues as Signy finishes. "Certainly," she avers. "I am Curious myself as to Whether there is Anything that This can tell us about the Events with the Sighted Queen. Where will You and Our Cousins perform your Investigation?"
Signy exhales softly, and some tension leaves her body.
"We were looking to take it somewhere where we could examine it with Sorcery, though I don't know if anyone had somewhere definite in mind."
She pauses to take a quick gulp from her mug, before grimacing and refreshing it from the pot at hand.
"Have you had a chance to examine it at all," she asks eagerly.
Brita shakes her head, "Not Extensively. Mother Looked at it, but Again, Only Briefly. It would be Good to get More and Younger, Less Cryptic Eyes to Examine it."
Signy nods, her eyes drawn back to the chain almost against her will. "Since we'll probably need to take it away from Pattern-influenced lands, we'd need it for several days, I would imagine - I hope that's not a problem. If you're interested in coming with us, I don't think that we set any sort of definite date or schedule for when we want to do this."
She pulls her eyes away from the chain to look back at Brita. "Your mother is Fiona, right? I've heard she's one of the best in the Family at dealing with Pattern and Sorcery." She sips briefly from her mug. "What's she like?"
"Mother is...," Brita pauses and cocks her head to one side. "Mother Is." She shrugs slightly. "She is an Intuitive Sorcerer. She just Knows what to Do. I think That Comes from Nanna Clarissa's Training Methodology." She shrugs again.
"Let me Know once Your Plans are Set and I will Assist if I am Available."
Signy looks uncertainly at Brita. "Do you want to hold onto the chain until we're ready for it?"
Brita's gaze is more direct. "You May Take it, but Be Wary. It is Not Clear if it could be Used to Track or Harm the bearer. It would be Best if You and Our Cousins Perform this Sorcery in the Near Future."
Signy reaches out and gingerly picks up the chain by it's wrapping, and starts folding it neatly back into a more compact format for traveling.
"Thank you," she says, simply. "I'll need to coordinate with Edan and Garrett, but once we have our plans I'll let you know."
"Until Then," she says as she sets her empty tea cup down and rises. She bows briefly with a smile and departs.
Silhouette retires to her chambers and drafts the following letter in her native language...
Princess Florimel,
At the King's behest, I am writing you today in the hope of resolve the differences between us. As such, I pray you will accept this letter in the context it is written.
You have denied me as your daughter. And yet I know, beyond contestation, that you are my mother. I wish to understand why you abandoned me. You wish to repudiate my claims of parentage. At the very least, we must settle these two issues, for both our sakes. And do so peacefully and expediently. However, an effective discourse can only transpire face-to-face. I would suggest such a meeting take place on neutral ground.
Tomorrow morning, I shall travel to Amber to conclude Lord Huon's surrender. I believe Amber would also serve as the perfect setting for our armistice talk. Perhaps, together we might unravel the Gordian knot in which we find ourselves entangled.
Please meet me in Amber.
Your daughter,
Kabeiro ap Cadmilus
On the bottom right corner, she etches the House Cadmilus sigil. She then drafts a duplicate letter in Thari, combining both in an envelope. She requests this be forwarded to Flora via the most expedient route... be it ship, trump, etc.
[Just to clarify further, there is no expedient route to Paris in anything like a timely fashion that doesn't involve a royal. No regular transports exist yet, although Silhouette can send it by ship and it will eventually get there. In the short term, the only way to get a letter to Paris is by trump, which is going to mean either borrowing a Trump or using the trump booth to contact someone or for Silhouette to go herself.
There is no Paris trump in the trump booth; just a trump of Corwin.
Soren can tell Silhouette enough about the lack of a postal service that she can figure out the rest.
Before the GMs make a decision about the reply, we need to know how Silhouette is going to send it.]
Silhouette thanks Soren for his assistance and follows his directions to the Trump booth. Contacting her mother directly is highly unwise and likely counterproductive. So too would be traveling to Paris unannounced and uninvited. Huon's caution aside, contacting Coriwn appears to be the most expedient course of action. Besides, the opportunity to study such a fascinating construct intrigues her deeply.
Once she is provided access by whatever unseen force protects the booth, she selects Corwin?s trump. Having observed Prince Caine utilizing one, she attempts to reenact his actions, concentrating on the image of her somewhat handsome uncle. Prince Corwin? Uncle? she projects, still not entirely sure just how this magick works.
Silhouette can feel something faint, as if she's trying to touch someone through melting snow and ice and her fingers are numb.
On the other end, there's a faint voice that becomes louder as it continues. "Who is it? You'll have to speak up."
Silhouette mentally - as well as physically - raises her voice, focusing her trained will to strengthen the connection. "Prince Corwin. This is the Lady Silhouette. I am your niece. Forgive me for disturbing you, but I require your assistance in a small matter."
"That's better." The connection solidifies, and Silhouette can actually see Corwin. He's sitting in a room somewhere. There's no electrical light, so it seems a bit dim, but the image of Corwin in his black clothes chased in silver is clear in the card and her mind. He seems to be amused. "You're Silhouette," he says, clearly appraising her, "and you require my assistance. What for?"
As the image becomes clear, she bows her head politely. "Kalispera, Uncle. I am told my mother resides in your realm. I have a missive for her. A request, truly. I wish to meet her in Amber to resolve our differences. On neutral ground, as it were." She holds up the delicate letter. "As I have been forbidden from contacting her via Trump, could you please deliver this letter to her on my behalf? I would have sent it via boat, but I believe expediency is the best for everyone."
"I can deliver it," Corwin says, "but I can't promise she'll read it, much less attend on you in Amber." He reaches through the connection to take it. "Why do you think she'll do it this time when she dismissed you before?"
Silhouette allows the letter to slip from her fingers, a weary frown staining her lips. "In truth, I do not. Mother's stubbornness is - and always was - as unwavering as her fury. Father used to call her his 'dearest Alecto' and their quarrels would shame the gods. As would their eventual reconciliations." She chuckles at the last, wistful, the frown remaining.
"I simply offer her forgiveness, in exchange for answers. If she will not accept that, then so be it. I shall turn my back on her without regret and trouble her no longer. But I shall not beg, Uncle. I am not one of her dogs."
She tilts her head, folding her arms in a refined manner eerily like her mother; it's doubtful she even recognizes the shared mannerism. "Ask her, what is thirty minutes to an Immortal - an eye-blink of time to confirm my true identity, be it daughter or doppelganger? She could have her daughter's loyalty once more. Alone, is that not worth the moment's effort it will require her?"
Corwin looks at Silhouette with an expression she finds difficult to read even through the trump connection. "I remember being that young once." He shakes his head, as if to clear it of that memory. "I'll deliver the letter. Unless you have anything else?"
While Silhouette has no idea how he'll do it, it seems that Corwin is making ready to close the connection.
"My sincere thanks to you, uncle. And my apologies for any unpleasantness this may cause you," Silhouette says, bowing her head. "I do hope we might meet again under different circumstances. I've been most eager to make your acquaintance. But, until then, kalitnihta."
She does nothing to resist the connection closing - even if she could accomplish such a feat.
Corwin does so, and Silhouette is holding a card with his unmoving figure on it.
Last modified: 27 December 2010