Lady Celina finds her recruited young Sorcerer, TawHiri, and pushes him to make his final preparations.
Celina remembers Martin's lessons and has a sergeant pack a saddlebag with rations and small camp tools for the trip to Paris. Merlin's Trump gift goes inside her red leather jacket next to her skin. Her brother gets a goodbye hug, Loreena gets ignored. She gives Conner a note for Orseas and kisses him goodbye for luck.
She doesn't check TawHiri's gear either, trusting that he knows his needs. She just loads her mount and checks harness.
Having recouped the seahorses she used earlier, she points the familiar mount at the southern ceiling of horizon. Celina makes some private notes regards TawHiri's ability with the mount as they start off. She notes to adjust travel needs again, since riding with Merlin, Conner and Khela is not going to be like having a mortal beside her on this trip. She needs be wary of his skill levels.
Celina shakes her head silently. Mortal. So much current crossed in so little time.
She watches TawHiri and wonders if he expects much of this trip besides a chance to shine in front of the Queen's Oyster. A flash of hot psyche burns along memories of her graduation night when Khela and she first kissed. A hiss escapes her as she heels the hippocampus to dashing faster.
Go and return. Find the sea witch, my mother.
Stretch and grow.
Forgive a little.
Breathe.
Know the path.
A hard ride of hours and she begins to imagine the cave she knows she will find. The route to Paris will pass through ascending passages to finally give them air and blossom scents. It will be spring in Paris but some snow will remain in the parks. Celina will see her father again, her heart will reach out, perhaps Bill and Alice will smile, but Corwin's face will be impassive and closed.
She can feel it all coming closer. Celina sees how the changes will follow one another. Even when the moments arrive, a coral forest, a silver gray whale, she fits them various in their place and knowing the next and the next. But she sees Paris so clearly at the end.
She will sleep in air again, the nightmares will return as they have before. Shadows and blood. Paris will not protect her from that. No matter. Moire must be found or at least her father warned of the changes in Rebma. But why so? Why? She finds that unanswered by any amount of introspection. Why bother? Let Moire run to him. Let him safe her there. What has Corwin to fear that Celina can make better by words, warnings or worry? Why should she want a father now? What good would come of it?
Be happy with a brother.
A lover.
Be a fool free of father and mother.
Her concentration on Paris grows heated and brighter. Father, expect me. Celina fancies she may beat Moire to Paris. But when she feels the hippocampus laboring between her thighs, she calls a halt on a green mound with bright waters above.
Celina lunches with TawHiri and finally breaks her thoughts back from the path ahead to look at him. She smiles, "I'm not good company today. Please allow that I enjoy your presence even if I do not mark upon it. We will find a cave soon and the latter part of our journey will go quickly then."
She holds back from reaching for him to give a friendly squeeze. He isn't a friend. He is not Merlin. She can only wish that she and Merlin were free to roam the double-dozen seas. That may never be.
TawHiri gives Celina a neck-bow in response to her words. "How can I help you look for the cave, Lady Celina? Is there some other way I can relieve your burdens?"
[OOC reminder: the cave is up the mountain, as mentioned in the recent Ossian/Brita thread.]
Celina brightens at his questions. "Watch our perimeter and keep your third eye limber. That will help a great deal." She points at a manta that has sped into view. The dark shape is already skirting the mound they are on and heading for the range of gloomy rising heights that lurks in the distance. "We follow that ray. It's headed to the cave system." Celina jumps up and cuddles her campus, sweet-talking to it as she checks the harness again. "Have you ever sipped air, Tawhiri? Paris smells sweet."
Celina mounts.
The ray is fresh and their mounts are still tired. The manta always seems to be a few minutes ahead and Celina keeps that distance, allowing the creature to weave higher on the sea mountain, but she often sees its lighter belly above and ahead every time a decision point is reached. And then the opening comes into view.
TawHiri sees to their mounts, although they will be gone by the time Celina and Merlin return.
Once they are within the tunnel, Tawhiri frowns, and does a bit of spellcasting. "Someone has been through here recently," he tells Celina.
[OOC reminder again: it's 2 days of travel in the tunnels, normally breaking in the throne room overnight.]
Celina sends a thought and thanks off to Khela for the whisper of foresight about Moire's movements. "Perhaps Paris is on someone else's mind too. Let's go quickly as we can." She leads her sorcerer companion forward into the shadowed passages.
They travel onward for some hours. TawHiri's occasional spells tell them that at least one other party has come through the tunnels recently. He also tells her that there's something about the passage that makes him reluctant to do anything to speed their passage.
In due time, they arrive at the great chamber that marks the halfway point of the journey through the tunnels. TawHiri is tired and could proceed onward, but if they ran into Moire from behind, he wouldn't be much help in a fight. He asks if she has rejuvenating or speeding magics.
Celina is honest with him. She could imagine ways to bend her magics to empower him for a longer time, but it will come at a cost she thinks is unwise and badly timed. The caves are a special place connected between two patterns and Celina does not want to fight the patterns. No ma'am.
Celina proposes they sleep a two hour period and move on. She also proposes that when they move on, Celina will carry him on her back limpet-style. She intends to find out just how hard she can push herself up the remaining distance. Celina wants to overtake the party ahead.
Sleep comes quickly to Celina, but restfulness does not. In her dream she floats, the Sapphire Throne behind her and an invisible crown on her head. She spends what seems to be lifetimes looking at people, looking through them and in them and weighing them and finding that they are ether not suitable or lack the spark required to meet her needs. Her home calls to her, so close and so unreachable, and she will do anything to return there.
Celina awakes with a start, not refreshed, but she had not been taxed by her trip so far.
TawHiri comes awake at her urgings and sets off. It is not more than a mile or two before Celina needs to carry him to get him to proceed at a decent speed. She has untapped reserves as befits her father's daughter and soon they are climbing the stairs with speed.
Celina finds the race and climb invigorating even with the awkward load.
Before more than a few hours have passed, Celina sees starlight through the entrance to the cave. She and TawHiri have reached Paris, or the outskirts thereof. If Celina wished to catch up to Moire in the caves, she did not do so.
The two Sea People climb over the tangled vegetation to the edge of the Seine and look around.
On the far side of the wide, slow river, there is a farmhouse with an attached barn. There's unusual light and activity coming from it at this late hour. Perhaps they aren't too late after all. It's a pity it's across the river.
The slow river is a starry mirror of the dark sky. Celina imagines and discards several topographic reflections of the obstacle that would render it more accommodating to her necessity. Then she grabs fiercely at Tawhiri and yells, "Hold fast!"
She calls forth a kinetic thrust from the river's massive bed current and jumps into the resultant arching waterspout. Tumbling and blasted upward, Celina hisses out a strange joy at the violence around her. She sets for the rough landing on the far shore and takes the impact up in her powerful legs.
TawHiri holds fast as if his life depended on it. The water lifts Celina and the mage and carries them towards the further bank. The waterspout is not as violent as Celina hoped for and she had to put more energy into it than she expected. It subsides in the soft mud a few feet from the shore.
TawHiri says "I would love to learn that spell, Lady."
Celina walks them quickly up the bank slope as she pants, "I'd love to do it better. We shall see."
There is some commotion in the lighted building, and then Celina hears hoofbeats and sees a carriage heading down the river road towards Paris. It probably can't be overtaken on foot.
"I thought the waterspout too clamorous," Celina huffs in irritation as the carriage clatters off. "Now the puzzle is... am I to chase the noise or scout the building for lurkers?" She shakes out her soaked hair. A snapping undercurrent of questions flow through the courtly part of her young mind creating a tempest. Authority has always been her backbone posture and breeding. The only family she had was all about respect and conservative values and reason. But with the past a lie, she is hoyden of disruption and chaos.
Celina doesn't much like it. "Tawhiri, the farm young of this country use two-wheeled vehicles to get about. Run to the back of the house and see if they have one or two of them and drag one back. I'll meet you at the roadway."
She reaches into her boot and pulls the knife. Holding her hand up at waist height, she nicks four compass points in her palm. "Blood to blood, show me mother." Celina eyes the blood that beads in starlight.
The TawHiri nods and runs towards the barn.
Celina casts her spell, and the blood from he palm curves from each compass point towards the road and the city.
From the barn, there are the sounds of shouts and what looks like some sort of spell, as if TawHiri were fighting someone.
Celina runs in the direction of the commotion. One slippery track in her thoughts is counting off moments and comparing it to the probable canter of a horse drawn carriage. She's certain she can overtake the horse if she finds a bicycle, but not if extracting her young sorcerer takes too much time.
TawHiri has run across some of Celina's father's troops. This looks as if it might have been a watchpost. He's taken out what looks to be a stablehand, but there are three armed men in livery here as well. No one has seen Celina.
Celina tackles Tawhiri immediately from his blindside. She calls out, "Celina, daughter of Corwin. I need to catch that carriage." In a smaller voice, she says to Tawhiri, "Those are my father's men."
The soldiers pull back immediately. TawHiri nods. He spends a second catching his breath and there is the smell of ozone as some spell dissipates, uncast.
Once he has a chance to react, she extracts herself to her feet and faces the soldiers.
"Princess!" says one of the soldiers. "We have one of the new motor cycles for couriers. I can drive you."
Celina nods, but drags Tawhiri along to see if the vehicle will take three. Once at the cycle, she realizes that it is too much for her to figure out in moments and won't sit three. Will she take on Moire and troops with a motorbike and a young soldier?
Well, yes, but not this time. Celina bridles her impatience and asks the soldier to explain the controls carefully.
Five or ten minutes later, Celina explains to Tawhiri. "Well, I can make it go and slow down which is most of what we need right now. I want the two of us to try and catch up. We can make better time than the carriage. But it could be the motorbike will throw us into a ditch or break our necks. Are you with me?"
"Do you mind if I cast a spell to protect us?" Either way, he climbs in the sidecar and straps himself in, very tightly. If he's breathing, it's not deeply.
Celina shakes her head that she does not mind at all.
TawHiri puts on the helmet and goggles that the messenger gave to him, and crouches behind the windscreen.
The driver holds out a second set to Celina.
She takes them and gives a kiss in return for the gift and for luck. The helmet is tossed on Tawhiri's lap, the goggles go on quickly and Celina swings onto the chemo-mechanical mount. The engine toggle is thrown, she kicks the lever down and the dusty steel thing roars with life. Celina over throttles until she gets the feel for the vibration in her bones and then the beast jiggers with a heavy growl.
Slow breath in and hold; she taps the first canter lever and they are off with a jerk and wobble. Celina leans down as if the mount had a neck and the course steadies. More throttle; she taps the lever again for a higher canter. The horizon jumps a bit and trees blow past. The country road is not kind and bumps them along.
Higher canter now. Celina concentrates on the road and whispers to the steel beast, "Be nice to us and I'll give you an oil massage later." The darkness is all rush under stars.
The road is straight and would be smooth, for a carriage or a horse. Under the motor cycle, it is bumpy. It is also not overly long.
The advantage of motorized travel over animal power soon becomes clear. Celina catches the carriage at the ancient gates to the city, which are in the process of being raised.
TawHiri shouts "How do we stop this thing?"
Sensing the gate guards would never hear her call over the bellow of the steel mount, she doesn't call for the gate to hold. Celina bellows without changing her low-to-mount stance, "Two choices. Jump off. Or we disengage the wheels from the canter mechanic and use the friction brake." A wicked smile is smothered then. "And we could run into something to stop."
The Seaward cousin aims for the carriage front wheels. "Prepare to defend yourself!!"
TawHiri starts chanting something and a glance by Celina might indicate that he's filling the sidecar with water, although it's not affecting the ride.
Gut level, Celina is willing to weather the impact of breaking the carriage wheel. Tawhiri is strapped in and protected by a spell. At the last, Celina finds another inspiration; a leg flexes and slides her off-foot beneath her seat. As the mount rumbles headlong to its final impact, she leaps for the carriage driver's platform.
Celina times her jump perfectly, leaving the bike just before impact. The carriage lurches forward under the impact of the motorcycle and side-car and the men atop it are thrown about. The driver is thrown clear, but the other two men manage to hold on. Celina lands on the roof of the carriage, just behind the men. One is a soldier Celina recalls from the palace, and another is a minor noble. Both are armed, but neither has managed to ready his spear.
"Glad I found you, sirs," Celina settles her balance center lower to the carriage roof in preparation for more physical action. "I have an appointment with Moire."
[If they try to hurt her--she will leg sweep them from their perch]
They try to grab Celina and are duly leg-swept to the ground. There is much shouting from the walls and a line of men are atop them with guns pointed down at the carriage.
"Nobody move! What's going on here?" The voice is attached to an officer at the gates. He's wearing a court uniform and is likely here to meet Moire's carriage. Celina can't see his face in the darkness.
Celina slides to the driver's seat and makes her careful way to the ground where the officer stands in command. "I am Celina of the Seaward, accepted by King Corwin as his daughter." Celina offers her hand to the officer.
"My mother, Moire, is in the carriage and I have urgent personal business with her. Those men didn't seem to care and sought to lay hands on me."
The man steps forward and Celina recognizes him as her father's man at arms, Lance. He doffs his hat and bows. "Princess," he says, "I was sent to meet a delegation, but we did not know it was you and your mother."
The carriage door opens and Moire steps out. Corwin's men gasp and try not to stare at her bare breasts. She looks stunning and knows it. "Indeed, good sir knight. As my daughter's precipitous reunion has damaged the carriage, perhaps you can escort us all to fellow monarch, King Corwin?"
Celina remembers her first meeting with Moire. How the queen's beauty was a poem that held Celina's tongue and heart caught in a swirl.
Lance bows again.
"But please, Lance," Celina adds, "give me a quiet moment with my mother while you arrange things." Celina looks at Moire. "There is news I must share."
"We can talk as we walk, Celina. The palace is not far. We shouldn't keep your father waiting."
It is a thunderous urge that sweeps through Celina's muscles. A blurred fist in Moire's face. The surprise. Her mother's hard landing on the ground. Celina swallows that whole of it and pushes it into her center. She resettles her balance and lightly touches her hands to her hips.
The Rebmans who were on top of the carriage stand and recover their weapons. Another girl steps out of the carriage. Celina vaguely remembers her working in the archives.
Lance looks at Celina, clearly asking her permission.
Celina clears her throat. "I really don't think Lance and his men would feel comfortable escorting us while we discuss the Dark Sultan's offer to reline your womb so that you may have more children, mother." Celina looks pointedly at Lance. "Some privacy, please."
Moire's eyes flash and she looks at Celina. Her whisper is loud enough to be overheard by all, but not to appear to do so purposefully.
"I've told you before I'll have none of your congress with imaginary demons!" She stands straighter and speaks across the intervening pathway. "Good Sir Lance, My daughter the Princess is of a highly excitable nature and prone to both flights of fancy and outbursts. Let us help her to the palace where she can be cared for discreetly by her father's men."
"Highnesses, please!" says Lance. "Princess, your mother is correct, this is no place for private discourse." He steps forward, warily.
"Discreetly by my father's men?!" Celina laughs. "Oh mother, you made a joke. Who knew you could be funny and self-serving in the same sentence?" Celina ignores Lance. The place and time to confront her mother is now. "Here's an outburst for you: for what reason did you raise me on lies? Why did you give me over to Corwin to learn we were blood? You couldn't do that task yourself?"
A muscle twitches in her chest. "Did my time in your womb leave such nightmares and bleak water? Is Amber's royal blood so repugnant?" Celina's words become more passionate as she finishes, but she physically shows no signs of threatening Moire.
Celina is positioned to threaten her, and by her best estimate Moire's chin is exactly one leg kick away. Expecting Lance might feel honor requires him to do something, Celina guards her flank.
Moire takes a quick step and attempts to backhand Celina's fine cheeckbones. Even in air, she's far too slow to actually hit Celina, unless Celina lets her.
Celina's eyes widen in surprise and she starts to raise both hands to ward. A slight backward jerk of Celina's head appears reflexive and Moire's knuckles smash Celina's mouth instead of the cheek. The Seaward cousin's lower lip splits against her teeth and her head rocks with the backhand. Shoulders and torso spin away from Moire's blow. Hair clips scatterfall and Celina's tresses fall free over her shoulders.
Hair over her face, Celina touches the blood dribbling off her chin and nods. "I was wondering if you were cold straight through." She uncoils her own backhand at Moire's splendid mouth, slowing the arm whip down enough to leave her mother's teeth intact.
The blow lands, and Moire's head snaps to the side and she crumples. Celina suspects that Moire was acting, because the blow did not land as firmly as it should have, nor should it have sent her to the ground.
The strike breaks the stillness of the two sides, and Moire's men come rushing towards Celina. A half-heartbeat later, Corwin's guards yell and charge as well. Cries of "The Princess" and "The Queen" rise from what looks like it is about to be a rather bloody melee.
Up from her toes, Celina's voice cracks out crisply, "Hold back! Stay! Dare not cross on my honor or Moire's or I'll wear your fingerbones for a necklace!" Celina steps over Moire, standing braced one foot to either side of her torso, her palms up flat to both clusters of men-at-arms.
The men skid to a halt, weapons up. Moire has, Celina sees, a knife. She's clutching it close . What she plans to do with it is unclear.
In the moment of silence, a shot rings out from the gate. It's quite clear that the owner of the gun wanted everyone's full attention and he seems to have received it.
Lance speaks. "No one move while we sort this out, please. Your highness, your majesty, I would deeply regret putting a bullet into you or your servants." His gun does not point at the rebmans, but it is closer to them than to his own men.
"Your highness, it is my inclination to bring this all before your father and let him sort it all out, assuming we do not meet him in the street coming from Versailles. Can it be that we attend him without any more attacks?"
Celina doesn't realize the victory in Lance asking her the question; her answer is frosty with frustration. "As you insist."
Celina covers her surprise when she reaches down to help Moire to her feet.
Moire takes Celina's hand and allows her to help her to her feet. She conceals her dagger inside the cloak thrown over her arm. She touches Celina with it through the cloak, a reminder that has no subtlety at all.
"I would be conveyed separately from my excitable child," she says to Lance, who is now approaching the two green-skinned women.
"Give it a rest, Moire," Celina speaks softly but Lance can hear as well. "Haven't you learned from Jerod or Martin that if you put that blade into me the least bit, I'll break your pretty face? Don't over-excite me. I might begin to like hurting you." If there is a bitter flavor to the last few words, it is more self-reflection than ire at the svelte beauty. Celina simmers with a dull self-fury. The blade in Moire's hand, poisoned or enchanted or simple steel, seems to draw the fire in her blood through her brain.
Begging for another strike at Moire.
Celina forces a change of focus. She smiles at Lance. "Point the gun at me if it makes her feel better. But if you take us to the King, let's just do that. Separate arrangements are not necessary. I give my word."
Lancelot coughs, politely.
The queen says, "We are willing to risk on her word, as long as you say with us, Sir Lancelot."
"Then let us arrange ourselves into a proper parade. The Queen and her men to the right, the Princess and my men to the left. I shall walk with both royal ladies ... ah! And the gendarmes who have just arrived will walk behind me."
Lance's words are backed up by a score or so of men in a different uniform from the soldiers, who file between the two groups that were so recently committing physical violence. The manage to keep the peace, but it's clear that they are not inclined to be sympathetic to the Rebmans.
The three block march to the palace is accomplished with no trouble. Lance keeps the two women more than arm's length away from each other, and considers this at least a small victory.
Celina uses the stroll to measure Paris, the people and the prosperity. She looks for signs that women are doing better here than she expected based on her father's notions of fashion and foibles. But when the palace comes into view, she looks forward to seeing him despite.
The great room is as Celina remembers it-- a vast temple to art and beauty, overshadowed by the rose motif on the floor. Moire smiles when she sees it.
As Celina, Moire, and the queens retinue enter, so does a strawberry-blond woman in a green dress. "Your pardon, Your Majesty, but your unexpected arrival has caught all of Paris off guard. The King my brother has not yet returned from his evening's excursion. Perhaps you would like to take the opportunity to put on some ... dry clothes?"
Celina wonders that Alice is not greeting them, but then it may be years since she has been here. Things may have changed.
A belated recognition settles, the blonde is one of Corwin's sisters. Fleur. Martin did not seem to care for her but at first meeting she was kind. So Fleur must be guesting with Corwin. But then where is Alice? Questions lead to questions. Celina pushes away a fleeting concern for Merlin and the questions that will come when Corwin arrives.
Celina holds her peace. The queen should respond first and it might be of value to talk to Fleur once Moire was gone and Corwin not yet arrived.
"Sister of my sister," Moire says to Flora, "I thank you for your welcome to fair Paris. But I must speak to your brother the King as soon as possible, even if that means I must forgo the pleasure of Parisian garb." She regards Flora as if her bizarre clothing choices were something to be pitied rather than as the height of Parisian fashion.
Flora smiles at Moire with a sincerity equal to the warmth in Moire's voice, and then turns to Celina. "Niece, will you wait for your father, or will you retire briefly to refresh yourself?"
Hmmm. Celina does not touch her lip, which has stopped bleeding. "I bumped into something on the walk here." Celina eyes Tawhiri and at her hip makes a gesture to him that might mean 'stay easy'. "Perhaps you could show me where they keep the gels and poultices?"
If Fleur escorts Celina away, she'll take the opportunity to talk, leaving Moire to wait.
"Let me summon someone first, to see to your mother and your escort." Flora moves to the door and pulls a long cord. A moment later, the door opens and a youth appears. She whispers some instructions in his ear. He bows and dashes off.
"Company suitable to your station has been summoned, Queen Moire. Until then, Sir Lancelot will see to your needs." Flora smiles and inclines her head graciously to Moire. "Until later."
Flora beckons to Celina and leads her out of the hall. Once they are away and at least one door is closed between them and Moire, Flora stops Celina by a light to get a better look at her injuries. "Your lip will be healed in the morning," she pronounces. "Is there anything else or do you just want to get away from her?"
"I am certain the King of Parys can take care of himself," Celina offers, "but she is here to connive. Her throne in Rebma may be lost to her and being consort to Parys might be a better offer than any she'll get in the next few moons. Further, I am worried she may have made an alliance with Merlin's mother. Irrational perhaps, but I've been worried about it for a few days, since I tested a few notions." Celina looks into those beautiful eyes. "I am impulsive but not overwrought. Can you get word to Corwin? I do not have his trump and did not think to do this before I left my brother."
"With Dara?" Flora's eyes narrow. "Come with me and I'll get hold of your father at once. You were right to bring this to me." She changes direction in the halls and leads Celina off toward a separate wing. "Your mother should be distracted for the nonce."
A couple of minutes later, Flora leads Celina into a study, decorated in lovely bright colors that set off Flora's blonde good looks and the hues of her dress. She opens a desk drawer and pulls out a box of Trumps, then shuffles out Corwin's. "Brother dear, it's Flora, and I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have important news. Moire and Celina are both here, and Celina is worried about Merlin, and she's talking about Dara. Will you come through?"
A moment a blinding rainbow light later, Corwin is standing there, his hand in his sister's. He's obviously straight from horseback by his costume and, to Celina's delicate nostrils, the scent. "Celina," Corwin says, and he sounds worried. "What's happened? Are you and Merlin all right?"
"We have prospered in our travels," Celina says with a curtsy, remembering him as king before father. "I left Merlin wary but in fair company." She nods at Fleur. "I hoped to warn you that Moire has put you on her agenda, leaving Rebma to be sieged by Huon while coming to see you. That seemed such a strange turn that I decided to try and head her off."
Celina pauses for breath, thinking how to paint the picture still not quite in focus. "In rushing here, I wondered at her goals. Seduce you? Plead for your protection? Those could get her short term gains." Celina shrugs gently. "But arriving here and testing her temper, I find myself worried that she has known for a long time that she would be pushed from the throne room. She is ready for that and well prepared with a good counter.
"And on the other hand," Celina tacks, "there is Huon pressing his long-chance to take a Pattern blade from Rebma. I've considered both Huon and Moire as possible allies. But that was before Moire fled Rebma." Celina makes eye contact with both Fleur and Corwin in turn. "But if Huon unknown delivered Dara into the Rebma area? He has an army gathered from shadow with many faces unknown. If Dara got access to Rebma's Pattern in exchange for promises from Moire? Even if they joined forces and Moire was sent to do you some personal reversal for some nasty consideration? Dara wants Merlin and she doesn't like you. Moire would be desperate for options and could claim some favors here from past events. Dara would like that."
Celina crosses her arms. "And I look to protect Merlin in all ways."
Corwin looks to Flora. "Who's with Moire right now?"
"Lancelot, and I sent for Lucas." A slight frown mars her face, and a look passes between her and Corwin.
"There's nothing for it now," Corwin says, dismissing whatever concern they share about Lucas and Moire. "And Lance will certainly make an adequate chaperon. For a few minutes, anyhow." He turns his attention back to Celina. "Why didn't the two of you trump me? That would have been faster."
"Yes, it would have," Celina says. "I have to admit the Trumps unnerve me and I'm not used to thinking of them as a practical necessity. It's all still new to me." Celina doesn't chase after what Lucas might be doing here or what history he and Moire might have. Why would they tell her?
"So warning delivered, what comes next?" Celina keeps her voice even hoping her desires in the matter are not easily seen.
"I'll deal with Moire. Flora, can you see to Celina and make her comfortable? I have some Trump calls I need to make, and I suspect I will be some time dealing with Moire." Corwin sounds less than excited about those prospects. "Don't worry," he adds for Celina's benefit, "I'll make sure Merlin's all right before I talk to her."
Flora nods to Corwin but lets Celina answer her father before she speaks.
"Moire and I have things to discuss as well whether she plans to do so or not," Celina doesn't say more. Instead she studies her biologic father and draws a long breath from her center. "You might wait to talk to Merlin until we can both enjoy that moment."
"Do I need to bring you with me? And will you promise me you won't try to punch her?" Corwin sounds a bit tired.
Flora doesn't say anything, but her eyes are sparkling.
"I will defend myself if she tries anything," Celina responds. "But I won't try to punch her. I don't think she can surprise me so badly that I'd lose that much control."
"All right, then." Corwin doesn't look entirely pleased, but he offers Celina his arm. "Unless there's something else you need to do first?"
Celina is impatient with the inner girl that wants to be elsewhere. "No," she responds firmly. She puts her arm through her father's and nods a smile to Fleur as they make exit. There is a unspoken 'thank you' in her eyes for the blonde royal.
Corwin exchanges looks with Flora and escorts Celina out of the room. They make their way back to the room where Celina and Flora left Moire and their various escorts, including Taw'Hiri. Now the escorts are all gone, as is Lance, and Moire is sitting with a young man whom Celina may recognize as Flora's son Lucas.
Lucas comes to his feet and smiles warmly when Corwin and Celina enter. "Uncle, cousin," he says, "I've been keeping the Queen company." There is, perhaps some private jest between him and Corwin that is meant to fly over Celina's head, and Moire's. Corwin ignores it.
"Your Majesty," he says to Moire. "There are many things we must discuss as a family. But first, will you greet your daughter?" He moves to release Celina's arm.
Celina glides free of his arm as if in water. She finds it stunningly easy to give Moire a full Rebman court curtsy and mean it.
Moire bids Celina rise with a gracious gesture. "May this meeting be more peaceful than our last," she says, and it might be to her or Corwin or both. She turns to Corwin and continues, "There are things we must discuss, monarch to monarch. I would prefer to speak of them first, privately."
Lucas, who seems to be aware he's a fly on the wall for this, remains silent.
Celina has reason to believe that her father is all grown up. She says nothing.
Corwin nods to Moire. "I'm inclined to grant that request. Celina, if it's agreeable, we can have a family discussion in a while, after affairs of state are settled enough." He smiles at her reassuringly.
The smile has the opposite effect on Celina and she works to conceal her sudden premonition of danger. There is nothing for it however. Yet she dips her hand into her trouser pocket while standing on tiptoe to kiss her father. Her body blocks most of Moire's view to Corwin's left side. She passes a few of her dazzle glass beads to his hand.
He accepts them without any indication that he's done so.
"Of course, Father," she says after the kiss. Then she gives him a hint on the workings of her gift. "Try not to break anything while I'm gone." May that unsettle Moire as well.
Celina nods to her mother the queen and leaves the room, this time without the Rebman courtesies.
Last modified: 1 July 2008