It's been four weeks since the most momentous event that has occurred in Amber over the course of Garrett's young life: the coronation of King Random. And it's been about three weeks since the most important thing that's ever happened to Garrett: his discovery that the King is his father.
The night of the Coronation will live in Garrett's memory forever: the screams of the angry dragons, the terror of the horses, the nightmare of the injured and even the dead coming out of the great hall ... and the disappearance of his father and his brother, neither of whom have been seen since.
He remembers getting the big bay for Prince Martin, and helping Lady Folly to mount. Martin had mounted afterwards, and there was something about the way Martin had moved that Garret hadn't liked. Martin was easy with his horses, and they picked up on that ease. This time the bay had pranced a little, nervous and tight, and he'd seen Martin's pain in the horse's movements.
Garrett had heard Martin was injured in the to-do in the Great Hall. His da had looked a bit ill when Garrett had mentioned it. There had been men in the Black Road campaign who'd been injured by the monsters, he'd told Garrett, and they'd died horribly of it after. Garrett mustn't let on to anyone what he'd seen, his da said, and repeated it after the discussion with his mother. If Martin were to die ...
And after Martin and Folly had left, the King--Garrett's father!--had come down. He'd taken a sweet little roan and headed off towards Arden. His only words to Garrett had been, "Don't wait up; we won't be back for a while. If I don't need her, Rowan will wander back on her own. Oh, and it's not a secret that I'm going out, but it shouldn't be spread around."
But Rowan hadn't wandered back.
It has been four weeks, and no man has heard so much as a word from either Garrett's father or his brother since. If they are dead, Garrett was the last man to see them living. And there are those who wonder--Garrett hears the gossip, the rumors, the fears.
The Queen keeps either Dame Lilly or Venesch at her side. Kitchen gossip says she eats poorly, and a chambermaid who's sister to one of the grooms told her brother she'd heard the Queen crying in the night for her husband. That Bleys and Fiona have left is generally considered all to the good by the servants, but that only Prince Caine and the wheelchair-bound Prince Gerard remain to defend Amber is an ill, ill thing.
Even Garrett's cousins who ran the council for Prince Gerard or the ones who were knighted are half-gone: Vere, Martin, Jerod, Brennan. Prince Julian has closed Arden and put it on a war footing.
Things are bad all over.
That's the state of affairs Garrett finds himself contemplating after finishing mucking out the stalls one afternoon a month or so after the coronation. He's painfully aware that he's made no move to resolve his problems, and with Random's continued absence, they are only becoming more pressing.
Garrett puts away the shovel and wheels the load out to the manure pile. It had taken quite a while to get over the shock enough to think straight, but he was finally getting there, thank the Unicorn. It's a bit unsettling to have half your heritage stripped away and replaced by something totally unimaginable. There was so much about his new family that he didn't know, and that he should know before he approached anyone about this. He'd spent the last several days coming up with a plan and now it was time to get started.
He stows the wheelbarrow and goes over to the slate status board. He picks up the chalk and starts marking off the boxes. Who's been fed, who's been exercised, who needs extra attention. As he writes, he thinks about the King and the Prince. They weren't dead. They couldn't be dead. They'd better not be dead. What if they were? Damned if he'd say anything then. Random was the only other person who could confirm his mother's story, assuming he even remembered her. Without him, no one would ever believe Garrett was who he knew he was. Please don't let him be dead.
Garrett goes looking for Donovan, who is in the tack building, inspecting harnesses. "Hey, Dad. Shift change. I can't stay on late today. I'm going up to the House," he says with a wink.
Donovan nods. "Be sure you're back for supper. Your mother's making chicken pot pie."
"Will do," Garrett says as he leaves. Outside the building, he breaks into a run and heads for the family's cottage. Mum's making supper. That means she's in the house. Darn.
Garrett can remember that when he was a young boy, chicken was plentiful if expensive, and so was beef. Since the Sundering, though, and the closing of the trade routes, fresh meat has become more and more rare. It's more often fish, and sometimes not even that. Normally, nowadays, his mother reserves meat for special occasions, and Garrett, who has always eaten a lot more than his sisters, is often a little hungry.
Garrett has been through the kitchens often enough to know that his father eats a lot better than he does. The thought of roast beef makes his mouth water; he can almost scent it in the air.
The thought reminds Garrett that he has to stop in at the kitchens to ask Mrs. Pitcher for directions to the library. Mrs. Pitcher is Garrett's favorite prep cook, a sweet, stout lady who saves him the bruised apples to take to the stables. Perhaps she'll toss something his way if he flashes her his charming boyish grin. He smiles. She's a sucker for that. She'll certainly get a kick out of seeing him all dressed up, he thinks.
[OOC: where does Garrett want to go in the Big House?]
[OOC: Library, by way of his own house. He's got to wash up. He did just dump large quantities of manure.]
Garrett stops outside the cottage and kicks all the crud off his boots. He fills a bucket from the rain barrel at the corner of the house and carries it with him to the door. Then he takes a big breath, lets it out, and readies for the gauntlet. Okay, go right up to the loft. Do it fast enough and she might not have time to ask many questions. Garrett opens the door quickly and, trying to look casually rushed as opposed to sneaky, heads straight for the ladder.
Like most of the nearby cottages, Garrett's family's home is little more than a single room with a loft for sleeping. It's a large room, with a great stone hearth, and unlike the homes of some of the poorer families, there's always rushes to cover the floor and wooden furniture to sit on.
[OOC: I also picture a small lean-to type room behind the hearth as his parents' sleeping area (if GMs agree). If anyone remembers "Little House on the Prairie" on TV (I'm dating myself), picture the interior of that house with a much smaller loft. Exterior is stone.]
Anna is working on the evening meal. The chicken and vegetables are laid out on the table where she's working, preparing the dough for the pies. His sisters are nowhere to be seen.
"Garrett, you're back early. Supper isn't for hours." She wrinkles her nose at the stable smell. "When you're done cleaning up, fetch me a bucket of water."
Garrett stops and looks down at the bucket of water he's carrying, then back at his mother. Sighing, he picks up an iron kettle from near the hearth. He puts it on the table and says, "There you go" as he dumps the contents of his bucket into it. He snags a stray carrot as he goes back outside and refills his bucket. This time when he comes in, Garrett makes it up the ladder.
Once in the loft, Garrett strips, tossing the dirty clothes into a corner. He washes up and dons his cleanest set of castle livery, trying to look as official as possible. He leans into the corner and pulls out his good pair of boots, which he had carefully polished this morning before going to work. Then he stands up, as much as he can with the low ceiling, and checks himself over, brushing off any dust. Skipping the ladder, he jumps out of the loft to the floor below. Habit.
Garrett squints into a small mirror on the back wall and combs his hair, trying to keep that one lock from falling out of place. Useless. He goes to the front door, pulls his cloak from a peg next to it and groans. The cloak still has the rip from the night of the Coronation. He puts it back and pulls down Donovan's good cloak. As he throws it over his shoulders, he says, "Mum, I'm going to borrow Dad's -- oh, never mind." The cloak comes down almost to his ankles. He mutters to himself, "Sucks to be short. At least now I know why."
"Hours 'til supper, eh?" he says to his mother. "Good. I might make it back in time then. Bye, Mum," and he opens the door.
"Where do you think you're going with your father's cloak?" Anna asks him. "What are you wearing under there?" She comes around from her table, dusting her hands on her apron, and pulls the cloak open. On seeing Garrett's attire, she scowls.
With a teenage-boy roll of the eyes, Garrett takes off the cloak and leans around the door jamb to hang it back on the peg. "I'm putting it back. It was too long, anyway."
"Oh, no, you don't! Garrett Bailey, you are not going up to the Big House! You just put whatever it is you have in your mind right out of it! You are staying down here where you belong!"
She points back into the house to emphasize her words.
Garrett glances where she points, then looks back at her with a hint of a smirk. He's used to her rants. He says calmly, "I'm just going to the library, Mum. Relax. It's a research project, not a sleepover. I'll be back for supper." He grins and gives her a quick peck on the cheek before scooting out of reach. "I'm sure you cook better than Bitter anyway."
Anna frowns, but holds her peace. Her eyes are wide. When Garrett kisses her, she grabs him and holds him tight for a moment, then turns back to her dinner, her head bowed slightly.
Garrett turns and sets off toward the castle at a jog. On the way, he reviews his plans. So far, this has been the hardest part of the whole thing - dealing with Mum. Now that the shock has worn off, Garrett has moved on to curiosity. He wants, no, needs to know more about his background. But every time the subject comes up, Mum gets either mad or weepy. Mad is easier to take. Weepy just makes him feel guilty. "What does she expect me to do", he says to himself. "I can't just ignore it". Nor does he want to.
Garrett finds his way up to the kitchen relatively unmolested. Mrs. Pitcher, friendly as always, offers him an apple to keep his strength up.
Never one to turn down a snack, Garrett takes the apple with thanks and a grin. He starts to bite into it on his way toward the castle entrance, then reconsiders. Not professional to be caught eating in the hallways. He puts the apple in his pocket as he searches for a page.
One of the pages, who is picking up tea for the Queen, offers Garrett directions to the library.
Garrett repeats the directions back to make sure he has it right and thanks the page. He has been to the business section of the castle often in his role as "Speedy Delivery Lad", but the library is in a section that he hasn't yet visited. On the way, he gawks, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at the bigness of it all. He notices how his boots echo on the stone floor. He admires the paintings and tapestries. If there are captions on the portraits, he pauses to read them, trying to place names and faces in the proper family context.
Finally, he arrives at the library.
The ornately carved, large double doors of the main entrance way are open and held back against the walls of the hallway in an unseen manner. Lying just beyond them is a deep single-story vestibule with a rich cream-colored marble floor. The walls are adorned with tapestries depicting various scenes from various shadow worlds. Among the tapestries there are well sconces for providing illumination in the evening hours. None are lit right now giving the room the feel of twilight.
Beyond the vestibule the library proper looms. It is an immense room, two stories high, that stretches out for quite some distance in both directions. The far wall is home to many windows, all of which extend nearly from floor to ceiling. Through them light radiates in filling the room with warmth. Book cases dominate the near wall. They are broken up only by the presence of doorways leading no doubt to annexes and study rooms. At either side of the room there are matching spiral staircases that lead to a wide walkway that crosses the back wall of the room allowing access to the books that are stored on the upper level. Again doorways lead off from among the stacks to places unknown. Ornate fireplaces, for warmth in the winter are also on either side of the room.
Garrett pauses just outside the open doors. "Whoa," he breathes, mouth agape. He had figured it would be big - but not THAT big! Conquering a sudden desire to forget the whole thing, he quietly steps into the room.
Couches and large comfortable looking chairs are intermingled with desks and work tables throughout the center of the room. If one wanted to simply relax with a good read, there is certainly ample space for doing that. There are also certainly more than enough areas that lend themselves to serious research. To the right of the vestibule is a rather official looking collection of desks and file cabinets that forms three sides of square. Sitting in the midst of them is a rather severe looking woman who appears to be sorting through a rather large stack of books. At the moment she looks something less then pleased.
There are also a few other people milling about. There is a gentleman who appears to be returning books to their homes. It is a safe guess that he is a librarian or at least an assistant as well. The rest are much harder to place. No one seems to acknowledge Garrett's arrival or so he believes.
Before he can move far beyond the entrance to the main room however, he hears a voice from just behind his left shoulder.
"Garrett, yes?" Dame Lilly asks in a rather detached manner. "What brings you to the library?"
Garrett spins around in surprise, hands out as if to say "I'm unarmed - don't shoot!" When he sees who it is, he lets out his breath and drops his hands.
"Dame Lilly, you scared the living hell out of me!" Then, recovering his manners and remembering who he's talking to (Royal Cousin, Knight Commander, Queen's Guard), he corrects himself in a quieter voice, "Sorry. I mean, good day, Dame Lilly."
"Good Day," she replies.
Curiosity is etched on the face of the dark-haired beauty. Her almond shaped eyes glisten. He had never heard her approach. No one ever heard her coming, it was said, unless she very deliberately made herself known. She moves with the feral grace of a cat and is completely unencumbered by the sword which hangs, as usual, at her side. (Some of the servants had begun to joke that she even slept with the blade but no one as of yet had dared to prove it.) By most standards she was on the underside of average size but her confidence made her seem larger and indeed more then a bit intimidating. Since the night of the ball she had taken to wearing dark trousers, high black boots, and red military style jackets trimmed in gold. Today was no exception. The only thing truly notable about her appearance was her hair. Most days it was pulled back at the nape of her neck and twisted in a simple braid. Today is hangs free, cascading down her back like fine silk.
It was clear from her stance that she was waiting expectantly. She tried to not have to repeat questions. If you gave most people long enough they eventually got around to giving the proper answers.
Garrett recovers his breath and rakes a hand through his dark brown, collar-length hair. Garrett is also on the small side of average - by about six inches if average is six feet. He's light of build and very fast on his feet, as indicated by the spin. Once he recovers, the boyish smile that Lilly is used to seeing at the stables comes back, even though his blue eyes still seem wary.
So much for a plan. The lines that Garrett had practiced all day fly right out the huge library windows.
"Ah, I needed to look at some, um, history books," he stammers.
She stares at him for a long moment trying to discern if he was telling her the truth. Finally her stance relaxes ever so slightly easing a bit of the tension that had been rising between them. She nods and for a moment Garrett may have been given the impression that he was going to escape further scrutiny. Then she speaks again, "History? What sort? I may be able to be of service. I have discovered that the librarians and I have very different ideas on what qualifies as a useful text sometimes." It was possible she was simply trying to be nice; possible but not very likely.
Garrett's smile starts to fade and he looks more uneasy the longer time drags. He's not as intimidated by Lilly as it might seem, though. Just being here in the castle, knowing what only he knows, is what has Garrett on edge. In fact, he likes Lilly, even though she's never said more than ten words to him before just now. He's seen how well she cares for her horses, and that counts for a lot with Garrett. Still, he's not about to give her a reason to draw that blade.
When she speaks, Garrett's face glows with relief. "That would be much appreciated, Dame Lilly, if it would be no trouble. Thank you," he says with a slight bow of the head. "I'm looking for histories on the children of Oberon, and especially on our new monarch. Me parents have charged me to assist in me sisters' education and that seemed a good place to start. The girls are still so excited about the coronation," he explains, delivering his practiced lines with ease.
Lilly nods. There is a thoughtful pause as she glance about the library. "Your sisters are eleven and eight, correct? Young enough that we need to be wary of our sources to be sure." A rare smile flutters momentarily across her lips.
Cool, thinks Garrett. He always knew he could get a smile out of her somehow. But then something hits him and his eyes narrow a bit.
"Tell me Garrett, what would you want them to know? The truth as is presented to the people of Amber? There are hundreds of books on these shelves dedicated to showcasing the myths and legends associated with the Royals. Most assume those stories are all true. And to be honest, many, even most, of them might be. Those book will contain the stories that will be known by their peers.
"Or, if you wish, I can lead you to the books written by true historians. They contain much less information because all of the passages can be proven to be truth. They are also a bit boring, or so I am told. Knowledge never bores me so I suppose I am not the best judge of an exciting read."
"Well, ma'am, legends abound, so I prob'ly should start with the historians, but something within the last couple of centuries. Ancient history would bore the girls. There's one thing I want to know first, though." He cocks his head, eyes still narrowed. "How did you know how old me sisters are? I never told you that." he asks, sounding a little protective.
His reaction has the odd affect of visibly pleasing Lilly, "I take my responsibilities very seriously. As a result of that I ask a lot of questions of a lot of different people. If this castle were to come under attack, I believe I would know the majority of the people who belonged on it's grounds. That is a very important thing. Knowing your sisters reside here, and knowing that they are children who will need protection, is just one of the many details I constantly keep in mind. Does that adequately answer your question?"
Garrett relaxes. "Well, I'll be," he grins, obviously impressed. "And you can keep all that information in your head? That's amazing, ma'am. Is it just name, rank and job description or do you know everyone's deep, dark secrets as well?"
"Not everyone's," Lilly responds. "And it's not so amazing. I bet you know the riding preferences of every member of the royal family. It's your job to know it. It's my job to know how to defend this castle. It's really that simple."
Garrett nods, "A point well taken, Dame Lilly."
She looks towards a shelf of books on the walkway above their heads. "Now then," she begins, "I believe we should start with those texts up there. They are, I believe, some of the most relevant, especially concerning King Random."
"After you, ma'am," he bows and extends a hand toward the nearest set of stairs.
[Assuming she leads]
Garrett follows Lilly up the stairs. On the way up, he says quietly, "I do appreciate your helping me like this, Dame Lilly. I hope I'm not keeping you from anything important." Like guarding the Queen, he remembers suddenly. Oh, crap. Garrett looks over his shoulder, scanning the library to see if Her Majesty is present.
Not that he can see. If Vialle was in the library she was evidently occupying one of the smaller side rooms.
"At the moment I am free. I try to arrange some time for relaxation daily, it keeps my mind clear. This," she gestures to the library at large, "just happens to be one of the places where I relax. I find the only drawback to being here is that the librarians tend to object when I draw my sword." She might be joking, it was hard to tell. Her delivery was absolutely deadpan.
Garrett chuckles. He smiles as he follows her along the upstairs walkway. Dame Lilly was usually so somber and distant, but Garrett had always suspected there was much more to her than that. He's glad he was right. It suits her.
"I had only been here for a few minutes myself when I saw you arrive. I hope you do not think the way I approached you was rude. I thought it odd for you to be here simply because I have never known you to come to this place before."
"No, ma'am. Of course not. As you said, you were doing your job. I haven't been up here before, at least, not to the library. I've been to other parts of the castle a lot delivering messages, but that's different. This assignment, though, made me realize that I don't know me own history as well as I thought," he says wryly. "This seemed the place to remedy that."
Lilly stops in front of one of the book cases, "Here we are." She begins to point out books, "That one there is good, oh and the one next to it too. I'll grab these three. And one of us really ought to grab that red one there with the gold lettering and the green one on the bottom written by Jewel Harper. She's an excellent writer."
Garrett pulls out the books she indicates, balancing them precariously on one arm while pulling out more with the other hand.
Once their hands are full she turns to Garrett, "Perhaps we should step into the closest study room. It should be more conducive to our needs."
The nearest room was just a few steps away through an open doorway. It is a small, intimate room, all done in calming shades of blue. On the walls hang seascapes and various other tributes to the ocean. The lamps are lit giving the room a cool glow. Lilly walks over to the large rectangular work table that is at the center of the room. Two plush chairs are on each of the long sides. She walks to a distant one and places the books on the table in a way that suggests Garrett is welcome to sit anywhere he wishes.
Garrett sweeps his eyes around the room, fascinated. He leans across the table and places his stack of books next to Lilly's.
If nothing else, stablehands are taught to use their best manners around the royals. Garrett indicates to Lilly that she should sit first, and when she chooses a chair, he pulls it out for her. After she is seated, he settles himself in a chair next to her so they can both read, making sure he's on the opposite side from the sword. It's a beautiful blade and he wouldn't want to bump it accidentally. "Which book would you suggest we start with, ma'am?" he asks, appraising the pile in front of them.
As Garrett and Lilly consider which of the books might be best to start with, a page comes into the room. "Nestor said I might find you here, Dame Lilly," he says, and bows. He offers her a note, which Garrett can see is sealed with a thumbprint in wax.
When Lilly opens it, she sees it is in the hand of King Random's secretary, Gilt Winters. It reads:
Prince Martin has returned and requests your presence at a family dinner this evening to discuss all needful things before King Random returns to Amber tomorrow.
As Lilly reads a genuine look of relief comes to her features. The King was returning. With luck his mission was successful and the tide of things would shift once more into their favor.
"I'm also to tell you that the gentleman is with the Queen right now, Dame Lilly, and that you're welcome if you wish to join them, but you needn't forfeit your free afternoon." The page bows again, his head bobbing.
Lilly nods considering her options...
As much as Garrett would like to know what's in the note, he tries not to peek. That would be rude and being rude to a royal with a large blade is not healthy. "Trouble, Dame Lilly?" he asks. "Please don't let me keep you. I can prob'ly take this from here," he says, nodding toward the books.
"No trouble at all. Or at least nothing of the sort has been indicated," She says to Garrett, her eyes sparkling with joy. She then turns her attention to [the page] once more, "Would you please take a note to the sender for me?"
The good thing about being in the library, any part of the library, was that there were always writing instruments nearby. She found a clean piece of parchment and some ink and sat away from Garrett to pen the note.
Prince Martin,I am glad to hear of your safe return. I shall certainly be at dinner this evening. I shall try to meet with you and the Queen soon. I am currently involved in aiding Garrett, the stable hand, with some research in the library. Though it is not of great importance, I do not wish to have rumors spread by rapidly disappearing from his company.
I look forward to seeing you again,
Lilly
Lilly folds the note and hands it off to [the page] with a simple, "Thank you."
The page bobs another bow and is off with the message.
Once he has left the room, Lilly returns to her seat beside Garrett. "A friend has returned to Amber. I am under no obligation, yet, to run off for a visit, but I would like to do so soon. First though, I want to ensure you will be able to access the information you might need. Are there any specific areas you are interested in? I have researched much of Amber's history myself and may be able to give you some further advice that will aid your studies."
"As long as your friend doesn't mind waiting, ma'am, I'm glad to have your help." He sighs, looking at the pile of books. "It's hard to say just where to start. I didn't really learn history from books. We never had too many around." He adds quickly, "I can read, but I actually learned most of what I know from me grandfather." Garrett smiles reflexively. "He made it fascinating. He loved history and talked a lot about all the old wars and strategies and the like. The way he talked, you'd think he'd served under Prince Benedict himself." Garrett seems far away for a moment, lost in a memory.
"Anyway," he rouses himself, "I hope I can make it as interesting. That's why I thought I'd start with the life and times of King Random. It's something the girls can relate to because he's here, or at least he was. This could be a very short lesson if he doesn't come back."
"First off, if you can give me your grandfather's name I can find out if he did indeed serve under my father. His memory is somewhat better then mine. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew the name of every man who served under him."
"His name was Hewn Bailey, ma'am, but I don't think he ever served in the military. He was a shipwright by trade. It just interested him, is all. I think he was just an admirer of...your father," he smiles. He had heard rumors of Lilly's relationship to Prince Benedict and she had just confirmed them. He listens as she continues.
Lilly nods. One never knew. It was possible her father did have a chance to make a very strong personal impression upon the man at some point.
"Second the key to making anything interesting is passion. Some people have no mind for numbers and dates, but the human stories, the part of history that reflects the inner thoughts of man, is exciting to them. If they had to teach, they would pass their boredom for numbers on but they may very well insight great responses when telling stories. Does that make sense? So before you start pouring over these books decide how you would like to approach it. Do you want to share facts or stories or a mixture of the two. What will not bore you? If you show signs of boredom it will surely be contagious.
"And third," Lilly paused her eyes filling with intensity. In that moment she was no longer looking at Garrett but through him. Everything she knew about him, everything she had every seen him do, every story involving him she had ever heard, she called to mind in that second. Unknowingly she nodded as she reached her decision. "Your lesson will not be cut short." The words held a seriousness that he had not heard from her yet this afternoon.
The intensity of Lilly's gaze freezes Garrett in his seat, the books forgotten. He meets her stare, his blue eyes unblinking and he doesn't speak for some time. Despite his stillness, his mind races. "The gentleman is with the Queen," he says finally, repeating the page's words. "He's back, isn't he? The King is back." The last is almost a whisper.
She neither confirms nor denies. Her expression remains neutral. It was near impossible for Garrett to tell if his assumption was correct.
Garrett looks away toward the far wall, gnawing on his lower lip. This wasn't going the way he'd planned. He was just going to look at some books, try to fill in the background and later try to talk to someone he felt comfortable with, like Lady Folly. He hadn't expected to meet Dame Lilly here, and even if he had, he certainly wouldn't have expected her to be so helpful. For some reason he can't explain, he is more comfortable with her than he ever imagined he could be. Perhaps he should -- no. Still, if he told her, she wouldn't be one to blab it around -- he thinks. And she'd been helpful so far. Perhaps she'd be willing to -- no. She'd probably draw the blade and have him arrested. But somehow he doesn't think so and he's been right about her so far. No, it's too soon. Yes, get it over with. Damn.
He closes his eyes, gulps and takes a deep breath. When he looks back at her, there is fear in his eyes. He speaks softly, so as not to be heard outside the room. "Dame Lilly, I know you need to go meet your... friend, and I may be stepping way beyond me station here. But if you've got a tolerance for long stories, there's one I need to tell you, and I hope you can help me 'cause you've been very helpful so far and I really need you not to kill me." He stops himself, knowing that he's babbling. He looks at Lilly nervously, his heart pounding and his palms sweating. He tries not to think about the sword.
For a moment, Lilly considers telling him that it was the Crown Prince and not the King who had returned. Her curiosity prevents it however. She wanted to, no that was not right, she needed to hear this story now. Once he had begun it would haunt her until she heard it's completion. Telling him his assumption was false might make him reluctant to continue. Then she might have to hurt him.
"You have my word that no intentional harm caused by my hand will befall you on this day," she replies. Her word, rarely given, was known to carry much weight.
Garrett considers her words, and the qualifiers within - "intentional", "by my hand", "on this day". He should never have started this. Damn again! Why couldn't he have just stuck to his story? He couldn't even be vague now and say he was "of the blood", like he planned to do if he talked to Folly. He'd already asked too many questions about Random. Lilly would doubtless make the connection. He could only go forward and hope for the best.
Garrett rakes his fingers through his hair. He stands up, goes to the door and closes it quietly. "I need to have the door closed for this, Dame Lilly. At this point, rumors of impropriety are the least of me worries. Besides, you're the one with the weapon," he smiles weakly.
He takes a seat on the opposite side of the table and pushes the books aside so he can see Lilly. He puts his elbows on the table and massages his temples, then looks back at her. "First, I have to apologize for lying to you. I'm not going to teach anybody anything. I needed the information meself, but the more I think about it, I don't think I would've found what I was looking for in those books, anyway," he says, nodding at the stack.
Garrett looks into her dark eyes and straightens up. Good. Detached and analytical is what he needs from her right now. It gives him the strength to start the difficult tale. "What I need is information on how to prove one is of the royal blood. About three weeks ago, I discovered, kinda by accident, that the man who raised me as...me father, Donovan...is not really me father." It's obvious this part is difficult for him. "He married me mother after she discovered she was pregnant with another man's child - me. About twenty years ago, Mum worked as a maid in the family wing of the castle. While she was there, she had an affair with one of the princes. It was stupid. I mean, nothing could possibly come of it. She was a maid and he was a prince. But me mum has never been known for thinking clearly when her heart's in the way. Anyway, when she figured out it was going nowhere, she broke it off. She found out a month or so later that she was pregnant. She didn't tell anyone 'cause she figured no one would believe her and the prince would deny it. She only told Dad, uh, Donovan because he'd been her best friend since they were children. He offered to marry her and raise me and...well, that's what they did."
"Over the years, things came up. I was always a lot stronger and faster than other kids, or even grown-ups, sometimes. Dad always downplayed it - said everyone's different, don't show off, or slow down, you'll give the old guys heart attacks," he chuckles. "But they never told me anything about it. I was Donovan's son as far as anyone was concerned. I don't even know if they told me grandparents. They never expected it to be an issue. The prince who was me father was hardly ever around and he was so far down the line that it wasn't like he'd ever end up..." Garrett shakes his head and sighs.
He shifts in his seat and stares at his hands on the table in front of him. "Then came the War and the Sundering. And me real father, the prince who would never amount to anything, came back as a king. A week or so after the Coronation, me sister heard me parents arguing about it and told me that Dad wasn't me real father. I told her she was a bloody idiot and Mum would put her straight." He pauses again. "That's when they told me the truth. I still wish they hadn't, but I suppose I needed to know sometime." He looks at Lilly and tries to smile. "I guess you can now count that as one of the deep, dark secrets you know."
Garrett leans back in his chair. "So now, I need proof. I don't know if the King will even remember me mother. I don't think they knew each other for more than a few months. And I can't just walk up to him and introduce meself without some way of proving I'm not just an unusually strong lad from the stables. I need to know if there are any other, uh, "symptoms" of having the blood - ones that maybe I've noticed but wouldn't know they're related. And I'm sure that's not written in any book."
Detached analytical silence was what Garrett had wanted and detached analytical was exactly what Lilly offered as he spoke. She even went so far as to continue it for several seconds beyond. Then, without warning or seeming reason, she nodded. "I will tell you this, you share some of the King's mannerisms. That does not proof make however. I know of one sure way to determine if you are of the royal blood, but even I have yet to be tested in that manner. I certainly would not recommend it to you until you are all but certain."
She pauses, looking at him deeply once again. Unicorn help me if I am judging him wrong, she thinks to herself. "Reaching certainty then seems to be the problem. I know of only one person who would be able to confirm your mother's tale. And I know one person who certainly should not be involved in this until her husband wishes her to be. We need to proceed cautiously because of that. If I were you, I would try to get verification of your mother's tale. Certainly there are servants who would remember such a thing. As discreet as we try to be, castles are not private places. In the mean time I will ask around to see of if there are other reliable methods for judging your lineage. There may very well be, this is all relatively new to me. I have not spent much time here in Amber as I am sure you know."
For a moment she lets herself relax, "As a matter of fact there are still days when I wonder if my father was not lied to. I often do not feel much like a royal. But like you I excelled in things as a child. As a young girl I could take grown men in sword fights. And I do not remember ever being ill, not once. Of course, as you have all ready pointed out, I don't forget things. I always knew I was not quite normal, I just never really knew why. Now that I know why, it is a bit hard to accept sometimes."
Garrett nods. He knows exactly what she means. He shifts back up in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. "The thing is, Dame Lilly, it's not me I need to convince. It's the King and everyone else. I am certain now. The strength is only one clue. Over the years, there have been others. As a child, I once broke me arm so badly the doctors thought I'd never use it again. It healed in two weeks. I got a huge gash on me head when a horse kicked me during the Sundering. It healed in three days without even a scar. And when Lady Vialle stitched me up that night, she said me features seemed familiar. I didn't pay it any mind at the time, but I wonder now if she noticed some resemblance."
"For me, though, the best evidence is the way me mum's been acting since she told me. Dame Lilly, you don't know her the way I do. She can tell a tall tale with a straight face and make you believe the sky is green with pink spots. Over the years, she made up all kinds of stories about her "brother", the one I supposedly resembled. All perfectly reasonable, all without missing a beat. But I just found out she never had a brother."
He pauses, meeting Lilly's stare. "The thing about Mum is that when the truth is unavoidable and it hurts, she can't handle it. She turns into an emotional wreck." Garrett sighs. "Me mum's done nothing but cry and get angry for the last three weeks. She's not lying now. I know it. The only way she'd be so upset about this is for it to be true."
It momentarily crosses Lilly's mind that his mum seemed a bit like Paige. That brings a sort of sad smile to her features, she missed her friend. "I am certain that there must be ways. I have cousins who are unsure of their lineage and yet no one denies that they are family. Perhaps I shall ask one of them how they managed to prove themselves, though I expect the answer to be something intangible. Our grandfather just seemed to know who belonged and who did not. Regardless of what I find, you will hear from me in the morning with an update."
"I usually work mornings, so I'll be at the stable if you need me. But you knew that, I'm sure," he grins. "I had it in mind to try to talk to Lady Folly when she gets back. Without saying who I really am, of course. I know her better than any of the others. If you want to try one of them, ma'am, perhaps we can double the information."
Lilly nods, "I had been considering conversing with Ossian myself. Perhaps I will have a chance to do that after dinner tonight."
He stands up, idly opening the cover of the first book on the pile. "I know you have an appointment to keep, Dame Lilly, so I'll take care of the books. Since I'm here, I may just poke through them a bit before I go."
Again she nods. "That one there is one of my favorites," she says pointing to one of the larger volumes.
He pulls the volume out of the stack. "I'll start with that one, then."
"Take care while asking questions. It would not bode well for news of this to reach the rest of the family through the Amber Crier. Matters such as these are best kept private for as long as possible."
He nods. "I will, ma'am." Shaking his head, he says, "Can you see the size of the print in that issue? That's the last thing I want. I'd like to tell him privately, but I'll have to figure out how a stablehand finagles a private audience with a King. Another worry for another time, I guess."
There is a slight spark in Lilly's eye, "A stablehand does not. The Queen's personal guard does." Lilly replies.
The eyebrows go up and he grins, widely, catching the spark.
"Now then, you are right and I should be going. Her majesty and her guest will be awaiting my arrival. I will speak with you again soon," she promises and then begins to take her leave.
"I look forward to it." Garrett opens the door for her and bows on her way out. Quietly, he says, "Thank you so much, Dame Lilly. I owe you a big one."
"I know," she says gently and leaves it as that.
After she leaves, Garrett closes the door behind her and has the room to himself. Drained, he leans back on the door and rests his head against it, staring up at the ceiling. "Say hi to him for me," he says wryly.
Last modified: 10 May 2004