Onora produces a mighty fine stew. Although she has no meat to add, leaving it dependent on vegetables, it still proves to be a hearty meal.
"The Gagrus brothers are taking a cartload of goat cheese and some produce to the Count's palace for the Jubilee," Onora replies to Chana as she spoons out portions of stew with a wooden ladle. "They've offered to let me ride on the cart with them. As honorary tribune, I'm entitled to attend, although it took some cajoling to remind the Count's men of that fact."
During the latter half of your visit, a few farmhands and laborers trickle in for a meal. They all eye you warily, as well as with a spot of surprise. A fleeting grimace cross Onora's face, a look that seems to say "how am I going to explain this?" Despite this brief moment, your visit has warmed the pub owner and acting tribune to your arrival. As both nobles and newcomers, she hardly sees you as friends just yet, but she is willing to accept you as neighbors. A good start.
She offers you a courteous farewell when the time comes for you to return to your new estate.
Chana waves goodbye, promising to come back for more "propah food" some time soon.
On the way back, she asks her allies "So, what do you think about that cat thing? I figga there's more to Lady Allis than just liking cats and bein' alone. Especially with wot Snips saw in the locked off basement. Maybe its a were-cat down there?"
When you arrive back at the estate in the waning afternoon, from across the yard you spot a large brown cat sitting upon the foyer steps.
It watches intently until you approach closer, when it darts away into the trimmed hedges at the foot of the manor. Even if the curious should go looking for the feline, there is no trace to be found.
.....
You rise early the next morning to ensure you have time enough to prepare and dress, load your luggage, and get the carriage upon the road to the Palace of Birdsong in a timely fashion.
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"A were-cat? I think your cat paranoia is getting the best of you, Chiara. We will find out with time, a luxury we're in short supply of."
When they reach the cat, Olivia simply looks the cat in the eye and says "Hello cat." When it runs off, Olivia mutters "they never like me..."
Olivia dresses down her noble outfit from the tea house, the one with pantaloons and a feathered hat, into more of a fancy courtier's outfit. This is to help her appear more as a gentry knight than a major noble capable of buying ridiculously expensive attire within a few hours. She is equipped with her faux longsword and holy symbol, though she does not display the latter blatantly.
With a big sigh, she announces "I have finally chosen a name. Vernisant is too recognizable, and I'm frankly quite sick of carrying my father's name. For our time here, I will be calling myself Lidia Espinosa."
Photinè graciously thanks Onora for the meal and walks back with the others. The sight of the large cat makes her smile, and she starts to slowly approach, but the animal runs off before she can make any headway. "Oh, well." A shrug. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to get to know our new housemate later. Is everyone properly prepared for the gala?"
Puttering excitedly around the manor, Photinè checks in on all the ladies and makes certain everything is ready for tomorrow.
In the morning, she rises bright and early to prepare a light breakfast before loading her luggage and getting ready. Her turquoise traveling dress is buttoned from neck to waist, where it flows into a loose, calf-length skirt. Subtle pink makeup colors her cheeks and lips, giving her a fresh appearance, and a blue-green scarf is wound around her head and shoulders, held in place by a brooch in the shape of a peacock feather. As the other ladies arrive downstairs, she greets them cheerfully with coffee and biscuits.
Chana eyes the cat warily. They were selfish, scheming animals. And Snips didn't like them. That was enough for her to look twice when one seemed even slightly suspicious.
When Olivia comments, she shrugs "'Aint paranoia. Lady Allis sounded like a fine person, fer a noble. Other nobles don't like that. And bein' all alone-like, she'd've been easy to off. Or deal with usin' magic." She doesn't add anything about cats being untrustworthy. She figures that's well known.
----
Chana struggles for a while with the voluminous skirts of her new dress before going to Photine for help. Aunt Sophia had always worked out how to get them on just right: fully hiding the bony spurs jutting out from her elbows and shoulders. But even without Sophia, Chana now had a new group to look to for help.
Her new dress is a frilly cream-colored affair that suits her about as well as it suits Snips. Nevertheless, after a couple of minutes of wriggling, she settles into it and into her "noble act".
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Espinosa." Chana grins behind her veil, then pulls out the rabbit mask she purchased back in Oppara. "Everyone have their masks and costumes? Cousin Amandine?"
The next morning Amandine first sees to it that Calix is fed and properly dressed. Then she selects a dove grey dress for the daytime at the party.
When everyone is dressed and ready, but before they leave for the party, Amandine gathers the group together and proposes a strategy for the party.
"I've slept on the question of how to approach the party and I have a plan I would like to suggest to you all. In keeping with my opinion that we don't want to quickly reveal any biases or sympathies too soon, we each take on a role so we may work all the guests regardless of our feelings toward them. The more we know of everyone's motives, alliances, and weaknesses, the better prepared we will be as we plan our steps forward after the party. If you will forgive the theatrical metaphor, I will introduce our characters in the show we will put on."
"My role will be the ingénue. The Betony cousin who will eventually be head of the family in Meratt. Presently I feel unprepared to do so, but I am eager for guidance and advice, a mentor to help me take the reins here. I will gravitate toward Baron Okerra, as he is a familiar face from Oppara."
"Chana, you are the cousin with the common touch. Your good relationship with Onora Piscum will be your starting point. You wish to see the Betony family use its influence to better the fortunes of the common folk of Meratt. Get to know the other common people at the party. Find out who they trust and who they fear. Most importantly find out how they can be helped."
"Photine, you are the 'femme fatale', the bad influence on me. You wish to steer the Betonys toward greater power and influence. Your target will be the Lotheeds. Suggest to them I could be brought into their orbit if they courted me by offering their help as I get my bearings. Discover their ambitions and their means of maintaining dominance here. Who is loyal to them? Who do they mistrust?"
"Olivia, your starting point will be Baroness Voinum. You both share a military background so you should have much to discuss. Find out where she stands on affairs in Meratt, and get her to talk about the other landholders here. What does she think of their characters? How united or fragmented are the various nobles here? What bonds them or divides them?"
"Greenly, your role is to find and cover anyone or anything I have left out so far. While we should all circulate through the hosts and guests aside from our targets, it will be your main job to do so. Find the unanticipated, what the rest of us would otherwise miss."
"Ideally by the end of the party we will leave well informed about everyone, and with all factions anxious to engage us as new allies. If things go marvelously there will be a bidding war for our support. Does this sound agreeable?"
Greenly finishes off her makeup over breakfast, applying black to the tip of her nose and kitty cat whiskers across her high cheekbones. She scoffs as Amandine describes the assumed roles, snapping when it comes to her turn and drawling, "Wild caaaard."
She claps her compact mirror shut and leans across the table, arms folded. "I don't think we need to, like, stick to any plan, I think that like, limits our options, removes creativity, improvisation. Plans go to s~~~ all the time, right? Look, it's a two day party, let's just be flexural and enjoy this first day."
Her travel wear is one of the stranger items she was able to find in Photinè's closet, a sleeveless, dark orange almost-dress with half a skirt and dark grey breeches, with Greenly, ever the ingenuiti-tive one, having tethered them together at the top of the thigh to keep the half-skirt shaped and formed correctly.
Photinè titters and fans herself, flattered by the role Amandine suggests for her. "Such a strategy will certainly allow us to get our footing, to establish ourselves as promising newcomers early on." Ever the neutral mediator, she smiles at the 'ingénue', and then rests a gentle, manicured hand on Greenly's arm. "At the same time, we must remember to remain flexible, not confined to our roles. We should not hesitate to take an opportunity that presents itself."
The horses that Martella has provided with your carriage are well trained and loyal, requiring little coaxing to trot along and carry you down the hill, through Stachys, and back onto the Oppara Highway's final northerly stretch. The sunrise hours of early morning eventually carry you to the small town of Lotheedar, which seems almost a metropolis compared to the hardscrabble Stachys.
Beyond the town, you soon lay eyes upon the sweeping estate of the Palace of Birdsong, nestled among beautiful vineyards and orchards heavy with apricots, olives, and plums. From afar, the first features to seize your attention are the graceful arches and domes made from imported marble.
As your carriage rolls up the meandering drive, you find an astonishing array of guests at the foot of the palace, all being fussed over by an army of servants sporting bird masks. As carriages and coaches disgorge their well-dressed occupants, they are immediately occupied by an array of entertainers - ferret-jugglers, fire-breathers, and stilt-walkers all ply the paths and lawns.
As a porter, his face cloaked behind a mask of red feathers, unloads your baggage, you are approached by a tall, thin man with thick hair and expressive eyes.
"Well met, newcomers. I am Count Bartelby Lotheed, steward of the county of Meratt, landgrave of the Hyden Marches, and tribune of Lotheedar. We understand you are the new heirs to the Betony lands. It is quite the honor to be our new neighbors, we're sure."
Chana nods reluctantly at Amandine's suggestions "I was hoping I could stick to listening in while Photine did all the talkin'. But..." She tugs her hat into place. "We do need to make sure all these ant minded nobles understand wot they're doing to the common folk. I can do that Amandine."
---
Chana steps off the carriage, face hidden by her rabbit mask. She tugs at it carefully, conscious that it isn't as good a disguise as her normal veil. She ducks an awkward curtsy to the Count "Pleased to meet you, Count Lotheed. Uh, Chiara Betony." She turns to help Amandine from the carriage.
She lets the others have the floor talking to the Count, instead sticking to reading his reactions and body language. Already, his stuck up use of 'we' has her hackles up.
Amandine does her best to keep pleasant when she replies to Greenly, but she doesn't manage to entirely hide an edge in her voice.
"Yes Greenly, plans often go to s&&@. But you know what's worse than a plan that's gone to s+&+? No plan at all. If we show up just to show up, we are just waiting around for things to happen to us. We do nothing but react. Our results are left entirely to chance. But then you probably also believe in luck" she adds sardonically.
"I didn't expect you'd be willing to put much effort in, so I've asked you to carry out a task that requires very little. You get to do exactly what you want, circulate and have fun, be a 'wild card' as you put it. I'm only asking that while you do those things you keep your eyes and ears open, and stay on Lady Lotheed's script. Don't f*** things up for the rest of us by saying something stupid. In short, just pull your damn weight."
Amandine continues, now speaking to everyone and with the edge in her voice gone.
"To be clear, I'm not suggesting that as soon as we arrive you find your respective targets and back them in a corner politicking like you're on the floor of the Senate. I'm saying that in the course of the next two days you seek out your targets and make the overtures to them I've suggested. It is a party after all. Circulate and meet everyone you can. But keep to your purpose, slowly and steadily, where your targets are concerned."
"We're already playing roles. Chana and I are Betony cousins, the rest of you attend to us. We're going to be the objects of considerable curiosity, and we will be watched and asked a lot of questions. Some people will eventually compare notes on us. We need to be sure we act and answer consistently according to our roles. Inconsistencies will raise suspicions. Too much 'improvisation' makes inconsistent stories more likely. My plan is simply to play our roles well, and build upon what we've already started. Yesterday evening Chana established a bond with Onora Piscum while I expressed interest in managing the Betony family holdings. We would simply be extending that narrative."
"I will travel a middle path between the Lotheeds and the common people. Chana will suggest to the common folk I can be swayed their way. Photine will suggest to the Lotheeds I can be swayed their way. Olivia and Greenly will learn where the other players stand. That's it. By the way", Amandine says to Photine with a smile, "I don't mean you should risk your virtue, unless you feel inclined to. I simply mean you will be playing the villain among us."
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A feigned gasp turns into a laugh as Photinè presses a hand to her forehead in mock scandal. "My dear Amandine, my virtue was lost long ago and I never could be bothered to find it again."
——
Photinè offers her hand to the Count, smiling brightly as she waits for him to accept it. "Why, the honor is all yours, Count Lotheed. Lady Photinè Michèle-Aurelius, aide to the Betony heirs, and their advisor in all things esoteric and arcane."
Her lips purse slightly, the smile fading into something more coy and mysterious as she makes no attempt to hide the way her eyes roam over him. "Our fates have become intertwined, Count. I sense the friendship between our houses will be long and prosperous. We look forward to seeing much more of each other in the future."
As Amandine moves to descend from the carriage, she pauses close by Photine for a moment and whispers "but if you were inclined to risk your virtue it would be a very powerful tool used for a good cause."
Amandine takes Chana's hand and steps down to the ground. She turns to Count Lotheed, curtsies, and offers him her hand with a shy smile.
"It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance My Lord. I am Amandine Betony. We all greatly appreciate your kind and generous invitation to your home."
Amandine meets the Baron's eyes but only fleetingly, making it known to him he holds the position of power between them.
Greenly stares at Amandine for a long while in silence. She almost opens her mouth once or twice to protest- the bit about luck specifically rankles her, and while she keeps her Calistrian faith close to the chest, it's the type of thing she'll usually jump in on to defend. Nevertheless, she keeps her composure.
Patience, Greenly, patience. Let the lady tire herself out, hoist her own petunias.
Once Amandine has blabbed til she can't no more, Greenly acts. Much like a cat, she maintains eye contact with the woman while slowly pushing her own unfinished breakfast off the table.
"Don't worry your pointy ears, butterface," she glowers. "I won't blow any whistles without, like, running it by you, first."
----
Greenly is among the last out of the carriage, waiting for an appropriate time to act. That is to say, a time when Bartleby is near the carriage door and not touching anyone.
Climbing out, she feigns stumbling and falls straight into the Count's arms.
"Oh goodness me," she titters, "dreadfully sorry, Count Bartleby, I'm just not, like, used to these shoes."
She reaches down and grabs her heel, demonstrating it and showing off her smooth, lean exposed calf under her breeches as a bonus. Her eyelids flutter as they make eye contact.
"Th-thank you for catching me," she offers, extricating herself. "I'm Greenly Baerdóttir, Knight of the Realm, member of House Basri," she offers her hand demurely for Lotheed to kiss. "The Ladies Betony have brought me along to secure their well-being, their wealth and property. I'm very handy with a sword, you see."
Amandine watches impassively as Greenly throws her tantrum. The woman's sad little personal insult just rolls off her back. Looking at the mess on the floor, Amandine wills the food back onto the plate and then all of it into a nearby bin.
With just a hint of a smile Amandine replies "Since I even have to clean up after your messes at breakfast, yes, I think it's best you do."
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Lidia exits the carriage while wearing the mask Photine lent her, a fairly simple mask with oscillating colours of black, red, purple, and green. She folds her hat against her chest and bows deeply to Count Bartelby Lotheed, and says "Greetings, milord. I'm Lidia Espinosa, in service to Lady Amandine Betony."
She looks him dead in the eye, a trait she's never managed (or in most cases needed) to unlearn.
------------
Olivia just eyes Greenly with the look of shame.
The Count betrays his patrician facade by muttering, softly but bitterly, "Clumsy oaf" even as he reflexively catches Greenly, a sneer briefly cutting across his face. He seems put off both by her stumble and her inflection. Nevertheless, his eyes yet rove across her exposed leg.
He scarcely waits for Greenly to be secure upon her own two feet before distancing himself from the newcomers' "hired muscle." However, he quickly takes an interest in Photinè and offers her all the courtesy that he denies Greenly. He divides his attention between Amandine and Photinè, while making an effort to ignore Greenly, and legitimately taking little notice of Chiara Betony or "Lidia."
On the other hand, just his half-sister Martella suggested, he clearly admires fellow practitioners of the arcane arts; thus, he is more taken with Photinè, and begrudgingly admires the Betony scions for employing an arcanist.
"Most of our esteemed company will be staying in guest cottages upon our estate," Count Lotheed states after introductions are made. "However, I would be remiss if I did not offer the palace apartments to you. It would be a crime if we did not show our new neighbors the grandeur of the Lotheed family's hospitality."
"Our servants will show you to your rooms. Then, feel free to mingle and sample the fine local white wines, cheeses, and jellied calves' feet that will be brought out straight away. The tournament will start one hour hence."
"How lovely. The Betony estate is ever so quaint, but between you and I, I'm looking forward to taking full advantage of your hospitality," Photinè purrs, leaning in closer and giving him a meaningful look. "Merci, Monseigneur-Comte."
Not being noticed suits Chana quite well. She gives the Count another curtsy at his offer of the palace apartments and murmurs "Very kind of you, thank you." before stepping to the side to allow him to focus his attention on those he's more interested in.
Once the group is free of the Count, she quietly offers her take on the man "Greens, that snake already hates you somehow. Maybe you overdid it with the fainting, stumbling, all that. Though that said, I'd put a copper on 'im bein' in for a tussle whatever you do." She shrugs "Photine's got a chance to sway him though. Likes talkin' arcane magic, and talkin' in general."
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Chana makes her way up into the Palace of Birdsong feeling surprisingly confident. The rest of the group was really good at talking and convincing people. She just needed to get in and listen close to what people were saying. And maybe put a few comments here or there so these nobles would spend a bit of timing thinking about the rest of the people living around. Not too hard, right?
She adjusts her rabbit mask, mentally runs through the polite phrases she's learned, and heads first for the Veranda. She looks around once she's there, hoping to spot one of the more influential local nobles first and get that out of the way. When she sees Lord Titus, she takes some time to keep an eye on him and any people he's meeting for a while first.
Once she's gotten her first impressions (and the man is done with his conversation), she makes her way over to him. "Hello? Lord Titus Lotheed-Casava?" She tries to speak hesitantly - something about being winsome... or whatever Chammy meant. She roughly extends a hand. "Chiara Betony. My cousin and I just arrived to take over the old estate Miss Allis left behind. Quite the change from Oppara. But I'm very impressed so far with your Palace of Birdsong!"
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Olivia takes a moment in the privacy of her own room to pray. She's nervous about this party. Things were so much easier to comprehend in the war. Now... how did she even get into this? What a whirlwind of events that swept her into intrigue, dishonesty, and secrecy. What will she have to do next for the greater good?
Lidia enters the Game Room having suspended the majority of her fear. She stumbles upon Sir Gul Gusairne, the half-elf seneschal. She stays on the outskirts of the conversation he's having, nodding or laughing as appropriate, making the odd comment. For the most part, she's listening for any indication of a weakness in his armour.
In the palace apartments, Photinè changes out of her traveling clothes and into her first party outfit, a shimmering teal silk with a low neckline and an even lower back. She adorns herself further with three silver necklaces of varying lengths, each bearing a different arcane symbol worked in silver and glittering green, that draw attention to her smooth chest and throat. A silver band hugs her upper left arm, and several rings, mirroring the same symbols that are around her neck, adorn her manicured hands. Around her waist, a delicate chain loops around her spellbook, holding it on her hip in plain view.
Sweeping into the party, she takes a glass of white wine off a server's tray and swirls it gently around in the glass as she searches the palace for Bartelby. Upon spotting him, she sashays over, greeting him with another coy smile. "This palace is quite impressive, monseigneur, I'm eager to explore it further. Now that we're neighbors, I may have to impose upon you and visit again in the future."
She turns her face away demurely, hiding a grin. "Though I admit, I have an ulterior motive." Looking at him from beneath her lashes, she lets him make of that what he will before revealing her real meaning. "Your libraries are of particular interest to me. I already find myself missing the resources of a larger city, and your collection of arcane volumes must rival that of Oppara. I would be delighted if you would allow me to use them in my studies. Perhaps we could even collaborate."
Although he is distracted by his duties as host, Count Lotheed responds rather positively to Photinè's intellectual flattery.
"You are quite astute. I am very proud of my family's library, and I have striven to make my own significant contributions - particularly regarding tomes on the planes. I typically keep such rare, esoteric texts under lock and key, but we shall see if that can change, even if only for a time. Please excuse me for now."
.....
Olivia observes Sir Gul Gusairne, who himself remains ensconced on the periphery to observe the arriving guests. He is clearly a quiet, severe, but confident man. His posture is straight as a pike, and not a trace of mirth can be discerned on his face. She also recognizes a golden Abadaran holy symbol displayed around his neck.
.....
The rather handsome Lord Titus welcomes the attention of the mysterious, masked woman. He greats her with an exaggerated bow - which he insists his two companions also provide with a quick kick to one of their ankles.
"I am so glad that my proud reputation proceeds me," he boasts with a wolfish grin.
"These are my associates, Dame Carodd Hellebore and Syras Cockleburr, Esquire," he announces, gesturing to the woman and man accompanying him. "I do hope you'll watch as I win the tournament this morning. You know, I have the unshakeable feeling that we have met before."
She makes a rude face at Amandine, and turns to follow Lotheed.
Greenly emerges from her room in more of Photinè's clothing, this time wearing a sequined brocade of tiger stripes and little else, showing off her long legs with perfect clarity and also somewhat explaining her decision to paint her face with kitty-cat whiskers. Her face is painted in a very subtle, natural style, excepting bright orange cat-eye eyeshadow, streaking out across her face, and gold lips. At her side, she carries an impressive metal helmet, pilfered from the Basri family vaults, a snarling tiger with its jaw split. Her hair is pinned back in a series of tails, intended to flow out from beneath the helmet and enhance the image of her as a big cat, a predator.
She greedily takes two glasses of white wine, draining one and nursing the other as she enjoys the cheese and jellied pig's feet.
After consuming a generous helping of hors d'eurves, she patrols the manor, waiting for inspiration to strike.
Seeing the Baroness, she immediately makes towards her, feeling an intense urge to impress her. "Hey there, like, Your Grace or whatever. You ever make it down old Oppara-way? I'm Sir Greenly Baerdóttir, House Basri, no big deal. A tough lady like you, you uh participating in the joust? I totally am, gotta do notable acts of great deeds to qualify as a Ulfen Guard like my mom and granddad."
"I'm sure we haven't met before. You leave quite the striking impression in person. One I wouldn't forget! Good luck in the tournament, one of my cousin's followers is participating as well. It'll be very interesting seeing you face her down." Chana attempts to infuse that last statement with some measure of interest in seeing him succeed, but only manages to sound slightly mocking. She waves to the Lord and his followers and continues onwards.
-----
Chana walks through the party, looking around to see if she can spot the familiar faces of her party. What catches her attention however is one of the party visitors that's more or less a total unknown: Earl Yander Merkondus. She heads over to his general proximity to see if she can listen in to his conversations.
Once she has a general gist of him, she steps over to introduce herself. "Earl Merkondus? Nice to meet you finally. Chiara Betony." She extends a hand.
The Baroness Voinum proves to be a woman of legendary stature, though age has finally begun to bend her posture, and she stands merely six feet tall now. She greets Greenly with a sneering harrumph, although she does not immediately discard the young woman.
"The Ulfen Guard have high standards, or at least they did the last time I visited Oppara," she replies with a subtle, scathing jab. "At least your desire to join their ranks is born from tradition, rather than the wanton quest for glory that plagues the youth. If you fetch me a drink, I can tell you some enlightening stories of the Ulfen Guard."
.....
Amandine attempts to seek out Baron Okerra, but she finds herself quickly intercepted by Dame Parthena Crabbe. She is a broad, middle-aged woman with a wide smile and expressive eyes. Her voluminous red dress presents a veritable wall of taffeta. A pale, rail-thin young woman lurks behind Dame Crabbe, who introduces her as her daughter Sepsinia. Dame Crabbe is eager to meet and learn about the new Lady Betony, and for her part, Amandine attempts to play along in her chosen role as the ingenue.
.....
As the last of the guests arrive, the mingling is briefly interrupted by the ringing of a gong that calls the attendees to the Grand Ballroom. As Dame Crabbe eagerly explains to Amandine, Baroness Voinum explains with a sigh to Greenly, and the rest of you can learn from others, this is the Meratt tradition of assigning a "jester" to each visiting group as a personal assistant.
"Good morning!" chimes the woman assigned to you, wearing a long-nosed purple half-mask. "You can call me Purple Finch. I hope I can bee of service," she announces while pantomiming the motions of a bee.
When you approach the small man of thirty-some years, he reaches to accept your hand, but then clutches his back and leans upon his cane again.
"My apologies, Lady Betony. It's an old injury from a boyhood accident. All this excitement, coupled with the journey from Moda, has caused it to flare up."
As he finally accepts your hand with a kiss that tickles your knuckles with his mustache, you confirm your suspicion. He is feigning his injury, likely to generate sympathy. However, he does so with well-practiced grace, suggesting this is an old habit of his.
"It is a delight to make your acquaintance. I am relieved for this reprieve from the dangerous battlefield of politics. With this so-called "war for the crown" set to erupt, all anyone can talk about is who supports whom. I'm sure you've already had plenty of noble colleagues press you for information, yes?"
After making nice with Dame Crabbe and her daughter for a little while, Amandine leaves them with her impression of the jesters. "What a wonderful tradition to have, a lovely way to show thoughtful consideration to guests!"
Amandine immediately assigns Purple Finch to finding and keeping a discreetly watchful eye on Calix, and quickly moves on in her search for Baron Okerra.
When she finally locates the Baron, she walks over to greet him with a smile.
"Baron Okerra! I remember seeing you at the Senate in Oppara. I am so relieved to see that you are safe and sound after the great tragedy there!" She pauses for a moment, as if now embarrassed by her exuberant greeting. "Oh, please excuse my manners. I am Amandine Betony. It's just so nice to see a familiar face."
Amandine chats with Okerra about her and her cousin's new position in Meratt and hints at her trepidations about her readiness to take on such weighty responsibilities, interspersed with pleasant discussions and observations about the party.
Greenly excuses herself from the Baroness with a gentle curtsy, returning with an entire serving tray of wine for the two of them to share.
She eagerly asks for stories of the Ulfen Guard, citing her mother's and grandfather's service once more as defining and inspiring. "My mother would tell me stories of her father Baer astride his steed," she starts, sipping at her wine, "serving the Grand Prince Stavian- not the, like, dead one, but the one who died before him, like, a long, long time ago -, like way back before he got all depressed cause his kid died or whatever."
After letting the Baroness talk for some time, she directs the conversation more toward personal stories from the Baroness's life or relevant passages from Taldan history. The bodyguard and mercenary asks specifically for any tales of mounted derringdo, feeling it might be relevant for her turn at the lists.
"The lady who taught me horseback riding would always go on about how the cavalry won us the world, but never quite explained what that meant, also she was super boring. I kinda get it tho? Fighting from horseback is just a singular and unique experience, like your whole perspective and ability shifts, you become invincible, better than you were, and like, you have to build a relationship with your horse or you're, like, screwed, but if it's strong, you're essentially one beast, fast and strong as hell, unbeatable."
After a brief moment of confusion about getting her knuckles kissed rather than a firm handshake in response, Chana inclines her head to the Earl. "Likewise delightful. Up until now I've kept away from the... war for the crown, if that's what they're calling it. And coming out here to Meratt I thought I'd be even further away from the shakers and movers." She pauses, thinking rapidly about whether or not she was supposed to put those two totally weird terms in the opposite order. Covering her pause, she adds "You're very into this game Earl Merkondus, I gather? Are you more of a watcher or a player?"
----
When the Purple Finch arrives, Chana leans over to whisper to Photine cheekily "The Night Swan, don't y'fink?" and then adds out loud. "Jesters spook me Photine. After that dreadful last one in Oppara... what was her name... 'Baby Blade'?" She winks at the Finch, bringing her into the joke, but also eyes her to see her reaction to the very very roundabout mention of Wyssilka and the Child Blade.
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Lidia finds herself alongside Chiara as they speak with Earl Merkondus, likely as a means of having some support. She bows and says
"Greetings milady Betony and milord Merkondus. I'm Lidia, in the service of the ladies Betony."
She helps Chiara by saying "Indeed milady, and now in Meratt you're even more of a mover and shaker."
However, she remains highly skeptical, scathing even, of an Ulfen's skill at riding when compared to that of a veteran of the Taldan Horse.
"Indeed. Finding a familiar face is quite the gem. To be frank, I care little for such frivolity, but it appeals to my peers," he says, failing just slightly at disguising the distaste in that last word.
"Meratt would scarcely even be a minor political battleground if not for the Palace of Birdsong," he says, gesturing to the colonnades and halls around you. "It's history aside, it serves as quite the point of influence."
He leans in and speaks more quietly.
"I daresay, it is the only feather in our host's cap. The Lotheed family's magic is commendable but hardly unique or even exceptional. Holding the palace that once served the line of Grand Princes, though, is no doubt a point of pride for the count. I would not be surprised if he used this as leverage should any of the claimants court his favor."
...
During a quiet interlude during the mingling, Chana directs the party's attention towards its assistant, the Purple Finch. Perhaps it is the masks worn by both women, but Chana cannot get a keen read upon their jester's mind - and this only deepens her suspicion.
Chana leans in as well when the Earl does, if only to keep up appearances. She's not really sure how to manage the Earl, but she's keen enough to realize that he seems a good source of information. "Tell me how you really feel about the Lotheeds!" She tries for a joking tone to her quiet voice. "The palace *is* important. Even back in Oppara there was talk about it. What do you think, is his hold on it as secure as he'd like it to be? I'm wondering if I'll see some... moves, out here in the country." She takes her parasol from its loop on her dress and taps the tip against the ground to punctuate her statement.
Amandine smiles and relaxes herself a little upon hearing the Baron's admission, as if she's found a safe place be act more naturally and be a bit more herself.
"I must admit I'd be happier spending my time with a good book. But, being the new one here, I must play my role as a model guest."
She leans into the Baron conspiratorially, just crossing slightly into his personal space.
"But perhaps we can help each other get through this with a little less pain. If you will keep your eye on me and come to my rescue if I'm trapped overlong in a miserable conversation, I will do the same for you. Allies?" she asks him.
Photinè sashays across the ballroom, drinking the wine and sampling the cheese and jellied calves feet, surveying the scene and deciding which of the partygoers are worth knowing. With an extra glass in hand, she approaches the contrasting pair of women she assumes from Martella's description to be the Crabbes.
"Excusez-moi madame, you must share a glass with me and tell me where you got your dress." A titter and a curtsy, before introducing herself with her full title. "I've only just arrived from Oppara and don't yet know my way around. What's your name, madame? You seem like a woman to know." She waits politely for an answer, and then smiles at the fragile girl behind the Dame. "And this must be your equally lovely sister. Bonjour, mademoiselle."
She offers the extra glass of wine to the older Crabbe and begins to settle into the conversation, chatting idly and sprinkling in juicy bits of the latest gossip from Oppara. In turn, she listens with genuine attentiveness to Parthena's own chatter, laughing and/or gasping at all the right times.
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Before Lidia ends up with Chiara, she gets caught up in a group of people who stand right in the middle of the entrance between the Game Hall and the Gallery. During this time, she listens to the group, which happens to have Lady Lucretza Marthane in it. Lidia just decides to listen before the group gives enough space to get through.
"Oh, this old thing? I had it imported from Absalom two winters ago. Dame Parthena Crabbe, charmed. And this is my daughter - yes, it is true - Sepsinia," the elder Crabbe replies with well practiced social grace. "The fashions from Oppara take no risks, if I do say so myself. And Cassomir? Heavens forbid you should be trapped in such rags."
As you speak with Parthena - and Parthena alone, for it is impossible to coax so much as a smile from her daughter - you learn two key details about her. First, she is quite the busybody, keen to learn everyone else's mind. Secondly, she makes no secret of her goal of playing matchmaker for her daughter. Parthena eagerly, and unbidden, points out eligible bachelors among the crowd, although she is just as happy to pick apart the less eligible specimens, dissecting their foibles and scandals.
"And here I worried this guest list would be a bore, and yet I marvel that I may have found a kindred spirit," Parthena gushes as your conversation progresses.
Earl Merkondus offers a patrician laugh before leaning to speak more softly.
"I suppose it is quite gauche to speak ill of our host, but is that not a secret Taldane tradition?" he says with a mephitic smile. "Count Lotheed will maintain his fine stewardship of the palace, I'm sure. The High Strategos would not be foolish enough to wrest control from the Count, and the Princess has not even the power to seize it if she wanted. As for the Count himself, he may try to extend his reach out into the prefecture, but that is as far as he will go. I believe he is content to be the big fish in this small pond."
The Earl leans back out and returns his voice to the tone and words of decorum, using this opportunity to excuse himself.
.....
Again, the gong in the great hall echoes through the palace, and it serves as signal for every party's attendant jester.
"It is time for the joust!" Purple Finch announces to you. "If you wish to observe, you can proceed to the list. If you wish to compete, then just add your name to the list," she says with a hopeful smile, looking to see if her attempt at word play lands true.
Chana is rather baffled by the wordplay. Chammy had taught her all sorts of things, but apparently not whatever meaning of "list" this unfathomable "Purple Finch" was talking about. She does her best to not let any of this confusion show.
"To the list? I think Sir Greenly and Lidia wanted to put their names in for that one. I think I'm content to watch." She looks around for Photine, hoping the more nobly-experienced woman will know what this List place is. "Photine? Should we go together?"
"The list? You know, the yard where the horsemen ride at each other...and it's a pun because you sign your name on..." Purple Finch explains, her voice faltering and tapering off as she goes. Finally, she heaves a sigh of defeat.
"Look, I'm trying my best. I'm no jester by trade. My name's actually Alista. I play flute with a musical company in town, but the count's men came recruiting jesters and clowns, not musicians, and I couldn't turn down the coin. Finding patronage has been harder since Barons Telus and Vort slipped off the social scene."
Regarding the joust, Purple Finch - or rather, Alista - informs you that heavy horses, jousting armor, shields, and blunted lances will be provided for participants who did not bring their own regalia. In lieu of squires, servants are also on hand to assist the competitors as they suit and arm themselves.
"For those of a more...genteel persuasion, a field has been set aside for a game of Trucco. If you don't know how to play, Dame Crabbe will explain. Heavens know you couldn't stop the woman if you wanted," she mutters sarcastically. With a start, she realizes she said that out loud and covers her mouth, a frightened blush spreading across her cheeks.
Having not really picked up on anything specific from the jester, Chana shrugs and lets herself warm up to the woman. "Sounds hard, Alista. Back in Oppara, most performers get paid in kicks, or coppers if they're lucky." She pauses, realizing that all her examples are coming from people in the Narrows, and corrects herself. "Unless they find patrons, of course." She clears her throat. "Who are Barons Vort and Telus anyway?"
At the explanation of an alternative game, Chana comments "I was hoping to see my friends here roll over their opponents, but it does seem like it might be a while before they get started. I'll go looking for the unstoppable Dame." She sets off in search of Dame Crabbe to find out what this game of Trucco is all about! It might even be a way to learn more about the local nobles without having to make small talk.
"And in return I will hold you to your promise" Amandine replies, shifting to a more playful tone of voice.
"You will be competing in the tournament? You may find some new competitors joining you this year. I would happily lend you my wishes for your victory, but one must remain true to one's own people. So, instead I will wish all of you the best of fortune in the tournament. May the best man win."
Amandine does not use the term man by accident or simple habit, though she doubts he will understand her hidden meaning until he meets the competitors she mentioned. She lays her hand lightly on Okerra's forearm as she says the last part as a hint.
"I am on my way to the tournament as well, to watch. But I'm afraid I don't know the way. Would you be so kind as to guide me there?"
Amandine extends a crooked arm to the Baron, so they can link arms while walking if he wishes.
"Baron Tellus owns the land along the southern part of the county, including the old town of Jambis," Alista explains. "Back when I was a lass, first learning to play, I got to perform at his estate. That was at least ten years back. I remember him being...rather scary. Of course, I was just a girl. My da' was sure happy that his girl was playing for the lord - or at least he was happy we were getting paid for it.
"Folks in Jambis, before they abandoned the place, say that a witch cursed the baron and turned him into some kind of monster. Considering he's still got his personal army of thugs demanding 'tolls' from the Cassomir highway, I think it's a bunch of bunk. Greed and age probably just rotted his brain.
"As for Baronet Vort, he was the last of the tribunes still serving in the Tellus lands. Folks say he 'went native' with the peasants and bandits, and that he even burned the Gold Canyon bridge."
.....
With a warm smile, Baron Okerra accepts both Amandine's favor and her linked arm. Meanwhile, Calix's eyes grow wide and he hops in excitement at the prospect of helping "Lidia" prepare for the joust.
The count's servant have erected a list, tilt, and stands upon the vast palace grounds. Colorful flag and banners flutter as the fickle wind comes in spurts. The stands slowly fill with spectators, almost the entirety of whom where the common clothes of laborers, farmers, and craftsmen.
"The count bribed a bumper crop of locals from Lotheedar with food to get them to serve as audience for this spectacle," Purple Finch says quietly, leaning over to share her sarcasm a little more liberally this time.
Eight contestants are announced for the joust. In addition to "Lidia Espinosa" and Greenly Baerdóttir, the competitors are Baron Nicolaus Okerra, Baronet Fi Paben, Lady Mona Sittas, Lieutenant Marina Gortius, Sir Reginald Tinsley, and Lord Titus Lotheed-Casava.
After 5 rounds, the two highest scoring challengers will face off in a final pass to determine the champion.
Chana files that fact away for later. There was a party to somehow get through first... dealing with power vacuums and cursed barons would have to come later.
---
Chana picks up a sandwich in one hand and a long-handled spoon-paddle in the other and makes her way to the trucco field. The instructions had been utterly baffling - especially with how little roughhousing the game allowed. She looks suspiciously at the ball at her feet and then slips the sandwich underneath her mask to munch on as she plays.
She spares only a small amount of attention to the annoying little ball that just - won't - go - where - she's - trying - to - HIT - IT! Instead, she tries to keep herself calm by observing the other players on the field. Not just how they're managing to play much better than her, but also who they're talking to and what they're focusing on.