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Audria starts to say something with a laugh, but the look on Merula's face that appears for just a moment steals the mirth from the young paladin like icy water steals warmth from anyone unfortunate enough fall in during winter. She'd mentioned going to pay the woman a visit before, and Audria can't help but feel cold fingers of ice run down her spine.
Maybe that mask isn't as much of a mask as I thought. Should I say something?
She pushes the disturbing thoughts aside for the moment. Perhaps later, when they are finished with the queen and have gotten the children to their homes or settled in at the orphanage, she will bring them up, but not now.
"Alright, I'll keep that in mind," Audria says as she bottles up the feelings of dread and worry and grins. "I think we need to get the others first," she adds, her grin turning mischievous. "You're here to teach us all of them high-falutin' courtly manners, ain't ye?" The young paladin affects a dockworker's accent and manner of speech as she asks the question. "An' tell us why we need three forks an' five spoons just ta eat, an' then some o' them fancy dances."
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Audria laughs as she stands up to join Merula and gives her a hug.
"Thank you," she chuckles. "I needed the laugh."
"Loan you thirty sails, if you need it."
The offer caught Dal by surprise.
“So easily willing to give up that much coin,” Dal thought. “Either they found a decent nest egg tucked it Lamm’s quarters, or that one is just used to having the funds to throw around.”
Dal found himself hoping it was the and not the latter. He had always harbored a healthy amount of distrust for the wealthy in Korvosa. How could people live with the means to help their citizens simply watch as children were born, starved, and died in the same gutters in which their carriage horses s%#&? True, some were simply born into the world of the “haves” and perhaps they simply never realized how bad of a lot the “have-nots” had. It was a well-known prejudice he carried and one that he sometimes struggled to reconcile with when seeking aid for those in the care of Lorris’ clergy.
It was when everyone began to disperse that Dal realized he had been lost in his thoughts for far too long and finally spoke up. He had not even registered Pocket’s sudden interest when Abella launched into something about Audria and nicknames.
“Yes,” he blurted out. “Yes, I would be thankful for the coin. Pockets was just giving me grief over my appearance earlier.” Dal forced a smile though he could tell it was a feeble attempt and he was certain Shrike could tell as well.
“Yes,” he blurted out. “Yes, I would be thankful for the coin. Pockets was just giving me grief over my appearance earlier.” Dal forced a smile though he could tell it was a feeble attempt and he was certain Shrike could tell as well.
Shrike, who in the end refused Brother Theolan's invitation with typical brusqueness, pauses on the threshold and looks back at the magician, who seems to be feeling awkward about something — whether it's the idea of accepting such a large loan from a stranger, the state of his current clothes, or something else. But he had helped them defend Sven, and stayed behind with her specifically even in the face of the Red Mantises. That is a kind of debt too, one she does not like to leave too long.
The mask tilts down to Pockets as though trying to decide if it's plausible that he could have an opinion about human appearances.
The alley tom is a snob? Well, it is a familiar, and most of the Acadamae students are peacocks. Maybe it expects something more imposing than faded dyes and threadbare sashes.
She reaches not for her belt pouch but for a secret pocket on the inside of one of her dark gray shirt's sleeves, and places three shining platinum crowns in Dal's hand. "Pay it back when you can." With this somewhat vague instruction, she is gone.
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A young woman named Merula who seems to know Audria appears sometime after Shrike departs. She offers to show people some of the basics of aristocratic table manners and how to perform the basics of bows and curtsies as dictated by the style of dress of the individual conveying the respect. While the actions of respect are easily taught, the labyrinth of forks and spoons and the timing of eating but with deference to the queen's actions are like a complex form of martial arts. Merula is convinced by Audria and Brother Theolan to join the group leaving for the castle.
A second young woman also enters the Sanctuary sometime during the day. The front door bursts open, and she practically falls into the room taking several steps to catch her balance as if she was thrown into the room from outside. Time seems to stop as everyone in the main atrium turns to look at her in surprise.
The woman's appearance is immediately eye-catching as ignoring her curvaceous frame is nigh impossible. Her hour-glass figure is emphasized by a pale yellow dress(?) which looks very much like a long shirt that's been belted around her waist while the bottom portion barely reaches mid thigh leaving perhaps a foot-length expanse of skin before the start of the open cuff of the tan high-heeled boots covering her entire lower leg including the knee. The boots appear fully functional, but the fabric seems thin and made of a material similar to suede. The top of the dress has the two thin straps meant to keep it in place on her shoulders, however they abandon their posts easily slipping down onto her arms leaving the fabric clinging to her ample cleavage with desperation and only the sheer size of her bosom prevents the dress from simply falling off of her. A small half-jacket, which has also fallen loose of her shoulders, covers her arms to the elbows and seems more like a fashion accessory than functional garment. Her long brown hair is cut to curve the ends around her face. That face is astonishing in its appeal: wide brown eyes with artful lining of black kohl, an adorable petite nose adorned with a pair of cute round spectacles almost on the tip, and luscious full lips which have a delicious pink color.
She looks around in surprise at all the people staring at her. She bites her lip innocently as she returns their gazes looking from one to another. One of her well-manicured hands holds the straps of a bag packed to the brim with something. With the other she absent-mindedly reaches up to sweep one of her dress's thin straps back onto her shoulder. It promptly slips off again.
"Um," she begins. "I was told to come here to assist Audria with " For no reason at all, the woman's voice gets louder before softening again. "My name is Jessica. Jessica L'Morie. I understand Audria " Again her voice increases for absolutely no reason when she says a certain phrase.
"We're here," she announces in a cheery voice as she walks in with anyone that agreed to come along. "How would you like to get started, Miss Merula?"
Audria smiles as she double-checks that she has everything, a change of clothes, her sketchbook and journal, and some of her drawing tools. She reaches up and feels the two holy symbols under her robes. It still feels a little odd to have them both around her neck, but she is getting used to having both the one she had been gifted when she became a full priestess of Shelyn and the one Abella had found in Lamm's hoard. She feels a little guilty about not looking into who owns it more, but hopefully with things calming down and the children now someplace safe, she could focus on that.
Merula's words, that she isn't likely to go back to her life from before she and the others had dealt with Lamm, echo in her head, and she laughs them off. She will be returning a stolen item. The woman that had attacked her, Kaitlyn Embresi, was known to the Guard now, after Bartholomew had gotten a description of the woman from her and passed it along to his friends there. She'd either skip town or get caught. No, Audria feels that Merula is wrong. Sure, she'd been chosen, but the same could be said for Eliana or Sister Jenelyn or Brother Theolan. It is a calling they answered.
She chuckles again as she reaches up and pets Talanaliel on the head, reassured by the soft, warm little fluffball.
"Well, I think we're a ready as we can be," she tells her feathered friend just before the doors boom open.
Audria turns to face the commotion, and has to stifle another laugh as Jessica comes in. She starts to wonder how much of that was affected and how much was an honest moment of gracelessness on her part when Jessica speaks, then shouts. The color first drains from her face, then returns with a vengeance as her cheeks burn cherry red. She looks for someone to hide behind. Abella? No, she'd join in Jessica's teasing. Merula's too far away, and Pip's too short. She silently apologizes to Dal as she tries to hide behind him.
"A date? When are you going on a date," Talanaliel whispers.
"I'm not," Audria protests quietly, through being right by Dal, he can hear her just fine. "I promise, Tally! I've no idea what she's talking about."
"So, you're not expecting a first kiss either," the little thrush reasons. Audria nods in agreement. "You don't want her to see you flustered like this, so you hid." Again Audria nods. "Well, why did you have to hide behind the one who has a cat?! A cat that's too smart by half at that!" A sharp, indignant trill punctuates Talanaliel's question and Audria lets out a soft groan.
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"Hi, there. Would you happen to know where I can find the young Audria? I'm here ." She winks at Dal. "If I don't find her soon, I might have to keep shouting about all the things I need to teach such as so she can hear me."
As evening approaches, there comes a knock at the front door of the Sanctuary of Shelyn. It is the handsome Hellknight maralictor and a contingent of his subordinates who will be escorting the party representing Shelyn. As weapons will not be permitted in Castle Korvosa, the Hellknights are there to see the party to the castle grounds safely.
Once everyone is ready in their street wear with packs stuffed full of any fine dress, accessories, and cosmetics, Brother Theolan assists everyone in boarding a horse-drawn cart with simple benches for everyone to sit. Maralictor Georgiy barks an order and the Hellknights form a box around the horse and cart. The driver eyes them nervously but clucks at the horse who moves forward at a steady pace but not so fast the armored soldiers have any problem with keeping up.
Korvosa is far from quiet. Ranks of armed soldiers seem to be everywhere with checkpoints at several intersections. The party is only minimally challenged as Maralictor Georgiy's aide is quick to run ahead and present documents with official seals before the group has even reached each them. Soon enough the massive ziggurat the Grand Mustaba is all that stands between the Sanctuary's delegates and the imposing Castle Korvosa itself. Covering the entirety of the flat-topped ziggurat of the Grand Mustaba, The Castle Korvosa is an impressive sight and one visible from nearly all corners of the city. For many this is as close as they will ever get to the monumental structure. Looking at it from here, the castle walls and spires rise high into the sky above and almost straining the neck to see it all. A large contingent of Korvosan Guard stand at the base of the massive ramp flanked by steps leading up the Grand Mustaba to the castle. the Hellknights maralictor and his aide approach them and begin conferring while the Guard cross-reference lists of their own.
While waiting, Brother Theolan turns to the group. "I know this can be very overwhelming. I..." He glances up at the structure above. "I am still not used to it myself. Every time it's just as impressive as the time before."
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It would be entirely impossible to commission and receive a properly fitted new gown on less than a day's notice, even now that she has money in her pocket and it is safe to go about the city; and anyway she is wary of appearing presumptuous by wearing a courtier's clothing when she is a nobody. Accordingly, Merula makes do with accessorizing: a bronze silk evening wrap, new slippers, lace gloves, and an understated pair of bronze combs set with moonstones. These accompany her to Castle Korvosa in a small hatbox.
While she may still be underdressed, it would be even worse to be thought an uppity 'mushroom,' as nobles and gentry of old families sometimes term newly successful merchants and others with more money than good breeding. There is a delicate balance to be struck between showing she has made an effort without becoming distastefully ostentatious: she intends to use the combs to effect the kind of braided updo made fashionable by the Queen's own preference for more elaborate loops of braid, and to make sparing use of the cosmetics brought by Audria's other friend — the half-dressed one who seemed so bent on embarrassing her. She had stayed far away from that little performance, suspecting there was some kind of inside joke happening. The girl's friendships are her own business, anyway.
***
Once they are handed up into the cart and get under way, she recognizes the over-ornamented armor of the Hellknight in command — the Brother calls him Maralictor Georgiy — as the same long-haired officer she had seen from the rooftop that morning.
Up close, he is surprisingly handsome, with laughing brown eyes. This makes her distrust him even more. What manner of person could be happy or proud after all the bloodshed of last night? Some of those his soldiers killed had doubtless needed killing, and she is in no way grieved over them; but the Hellknights had also ridden their horses straight into crowds, laying about themselves with their deadly long-hafted axes and clubs, without any regard for what their targets had or had not actually done. Probably even more people than they killed directly were crushed and trampled due to the panic they caused.
When her eyes happen to meet the Maralictor's, she smiles as though in simple anticipation of the coming party, and looks away, privately resolving not to be taken in by this butcher.
***
"It certainly is," Merula agrees with at least one of Brother Theolan's statements upon their arrival near the base of the great pyramid, staring up at the castle's ominous spires with trepidation. She has been inside its dark stone walls but rarely, and is confident in her human guise, but she is momentarily grateful that she never met the then-newly-married Queen Consort. "It never occurred to me before to think why they built it on top of the existing ziggurat. Small wonder superstitions sprang up around the Crimson Throne."
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Dal furrowed his brow in confusion as Audria ducked behind him. Good luck with that. Maybe if he puffed out a bit. He turned his attention back to the intermittently shouting Jessica just in time to see her lock her attention on him. Dal was suddenly reminded of the large jungle cats that he had sometimes seen for sale in Korvosa’s market. Or maybe one of those weird deep sea fish who lure their prey in with false promises.
When she spoke again, Dal awkwardly glanced around the room.
“I don’t kn-” Dal cleared his throat and started again, his vision firmly locked on something exceedingly interesting on a nearby wall near the ceiling. “I’m not sure where Audria is at the moment.”
Amsuement
Dal gave Pockets a little kick.
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking a seat and we can send someone for her?”
Dal tugged at his collar, “Overwhelming is one way to put it. Other words tend to come to my mind. Disgraceful, for instance.” Never, in all of his days, had Dal ever entertained the thought that one day he would be escorted by Hellknights into some fancy soiree at Castle Korvosa. He just always assumed they would be dragging him to a dungeon…or worse.
Despite his grumblings, Dal had managed to purchase himself a decent upgrade in wardrobe. He would have to be sure to thank Shrike again. With a couple of extra coins, Dal had even managed to get someone to stitch together some scraps of fabric into a matching vest for Pockets to wear. The cat hated it. Which meant Dal loved it.
“Deplorable is another,” he added.
"It never occurred to me before to think why they built it on top of the existing ziggurat. Small wonder superstitions sprang up around the Crimson Throne."
Dal snorted, “Pride. Oh, Prideful. That’s another.”
While Dal may be skinny, Audria is petite. She's over a foot shorter than the man, and slender of frame. Of course, her hiding behind him might have worked better if he had a cloak.
It's a small wonder that Audria doesn't spontaneously combust in that moment as Jessica continues shouting the most embarrassing parts for all to hear. Dal can feel the heat of her blush like a furnace at his back. Talanaliel, the small thrush often sitting on her shoulder, seems to have had her fill of being near Dal and his familiar, Pockets, and takes off for the trees in the atrium. The feeling of betrayal chasing all the way.
Seeing her cover is blown, if she ever had it to begin with, Audria turns around and peeks out from behind Dal's arm.
"Please stop shouting things like that," Audria quietly begs Jessica, her fair, freckled face glowing pink with crimson cheeks. "I'm gonna die of embarrassment"
The sight of Castle Korvosa looming over her is one that Audria will remember for the rest of her life. The imposing spires like spears rising into the sky are grand, certainly, but she can't help but remember other times she has run into those of high birth, nobles that sneered at her and Eli while looking down their noses at them. She can't help but agree with Dal. Pride certainly has a lot to do with why they built the castle atop the ziggurat, she thinks. She looks down at her robes and wonders if she should have gotten something fancier when she had the chance. These were the best clothes she has, indeed, they were her best robes, the ones she saved for the really special ceremonies and festivals, but next to the grandeur that is Castle Korvosa...
"Overwhelming and makes me feel underdressed," she mutters, just barely loud enough for those sitting next to her to hear. Talanaliel, sensing Audria's darkening mood hops onto the priestess' shoulder and rubs her head against the young woman's cheek. The gesture and the encouragement flowing through their link helps cheer Audria up as she reaches up to pet the little thrush on her head.
"It's big and bold, but I can't help thinking it could use some color," she says after thinking on it for a moment.
Dal tugged at his collar, “Overwhelming is one way to put it. Other words tend to come to my mind. Disgraceful, for instance.” [...] “Deplorable is another,” he added. [...] “Pride. Oh, Prideful. That’s another.”
"Deplorable...? I suppose it is no Imperial Palace in Egorian, but unless your standards are high indeed, it cannot exactly be thought a hovel." Merula has only the average level of civic pride, but she is bemused at the insults to her home city's most famous landmark.
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"Oh, certainly," Audria says, affecting the airs of a suitably stuffy and snobbish art critic, "but I must agree with Mister Dal, here. The tastefulness of it is absolutely deplorable. It's too imposing and clashes terribly with the color of the sky. They should have had the good sense to change that at least. It also has that air of 'Chelish and trying too hard' about it, wouldn't you agree?"
There's mischievous delight dancing in her eyes as she smiles at Merula. She is impressed by the castle, but not so much that she's not willing to poke some fun at it.
"I meant that maintaining such a large castle on top of the top of the city for only a handful of the elite while so many of those who work to keep the blood pumping throughout Korvosa elicits certain negative emotions from me." Dal rubbed a spot on his neck where the stiff collar continued to rub. "Deplorable."
Concern
Dal's eyes dropped to the floor and he expelled air from his nostrils. "Don't mind me. I'm just nervous. And," he adjusted the cuff of one sleeve, "and I'm very uncomfortable right now."
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Realizing how flippant her own comments were, Audria's own eyes drop to the toes of her boots, the worn boots she wears to keep the much nicer slippers from getting soiled and because they were more comfortable. The mirth from earlier is gone as she silently berates herself.
"Stop," Merula's voice cuts through her thoughts. She can feel the concern flowing over her link with Talanaliel, and she sighs. Of course Tallyfeather could tell what she's thinking. She is already an open book to those that know her, and many that didn't, and the tiny songbird has the unfair advantage of feeling her emotions.
"Sorry, Tally," Audria whispers to the thrush. "No fair making you listen to bad jokes and suffering my mood swings, I know."
She lifts her head up and takes in a deep breath, and is surprised to find that she doesn't feel guilty, at least not like before. She looks over to Dal and has to stifle a grin. She remembers the first couple of times she and Eli had to wear formal clothing and how uncomfortable it could be.
"You'll get used to it," she tells Dal, hoping to help him a little. "Until you do, there's a trick that Misses Olga told Eli and me about when we first came to the Sanctuary. Imagine yourself in a soft, comfy bed and pretend you're floating on a cloud. If you ignore the collar and the cuffs long enough, you don't even feel them after a while."
"Oh, certainly," Audria says, affecting the airs of a suitably stuffy and snobbish art critic, "but I must agree with Mister Dal, here. The tastefulness of it is absolutely deplorable. It's too imposing and clashes terribly with the color of the sky. They should have had the good sense to change that at least. It also has that air of 'Chelish and trying too hard' about it, wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh, no! - I think the opposite," Merula says thoughtfully. She casts Audria a look that is all bland innocence. "They could have fit ten more spires on top there, at least. One can only call it a lack of vision."
But she, like Audria, sobers quickly when Dal makes his fundamental objection to the old pile more clear.
Pip responded to Dal's comments with a smile.
"They would like to think it is a shining beacon on top of a hill and NOT an ivory tower to keep them distant from the 'lessers'."
Pip smiles as he looks over his clothes and Dal's with an approving nod.
"I know nobles and there is nothing more invisible to them than 'lessers'. I have some common clothes in my bag in case I need to get lost and gather information as a servant."
Maralictor Georgiy returns and removes his helmet, revealing his warmly smiling face to everyone once again.
"This is where my knights and I leave you. In the capable hands of the Korvosan Guard who will see you safely to Registration."
With that, he lowers his handsome face and replaces his helmet. His aide quickly barks an order and the squad of Hellknights and armigers form up and march away.
As expected, a Korvosan Guard sergeant approaches giving the maralictor's back a sour look before introducing himself as Sergeant Murtus. A smaller number of Korvosan Guard soldiers than the Hellknight team which had just departed takes up positions surrounding the wagon, and after Sergeant Murtus hops up next to the Brother Theolan on the driver's bench, the party and escort proceed slowly up the ramp.
Ahead and behind are other travelers on foot and as well as carriages and wagons. It's probably safe to guess most are related to the event in some way as guests or attendants or even workers. All along the length of the ramp and stairs are members of the Korvosan Guard and Sable Company watching the entrants carefully.
Soon enough the wagon crests the ziggurat and Sergeant Murtus directs the wagon through the impressive gates of Castle Korvosa into a large courtyard and into a small line of vehicles. Eventually the group is able to disembark where they are led into a well furnished room full of well-appointed furniture and walls lined with tapestries depicting Korvosa's history. Complete suits of armor and ceremonial weapons adorn the empty spaces.
The party can see several people milling around all waiting to be seen at one of two desks each with a pair of humanoids checking the registration lists and administering a simple test via an orb ensorcelled to indicate if the person touching it is lying. Each person is asked two questions: Do you intend to cause any harm to anyone at Eodred's Remembrance (the name given to this event)? Do you wish to harm Queen Ileosa?
Sergeant Murtus gestures inside the room and recommends everyone get comfortable while they wait to be processed. Brother Theolan locates an unoccupied space with chairs and a divan and leads the group over to find seats. The priest wears his ceremonial robes and sashes while Jessica is in a surprisingly modest dress...if one ignores that it is so tight across certain areas, if she breathes too hard or bends over, the dress's seams will be in for the fight of their lives.
Serving staff moves throughout the area offering fresh water while people wait.
Audria tenses a she listens to Pip and prays that the hellknights didn't hear him. Thankfully, the incident passes without note. Even with her rudimentary knowledge of royal protocol, she isn't so ignorant as to believe that talking about sneaking around in a castle wouldn't be looked upon kindly, and she lets out a sigh of relief as the Hellknights are replaced by the Korvosan Guard.
The trip up the ramp proves just as impressive as the sights from below suggest it would be. The view of the city's skyline in the waning hours of the day takes the young woman's breath away as she studies it and tries to commit it to memory, every shape, every color, every shadow. She would love to pull out her sketchbook, but the ride is too bumpy and quick for her to be able to do more than a loose sketch, far less a more detailed study. Even a she soaks in the view, she can't help wishing that she could share it with Eliana and Trinia.
Her delight at the sight fades as she notices the scars of the recent unrest, however. The places where a thin pall of smoke still lingers in the sky. Perhaps, then, it is a good thing that neither of her dearest friends are here to witness this. The smoke marks where destruction reigned and where lives were all too likely lost. She settles back onto the bench and tries to focus on other things as she reaches up to Talanaliel on her shoulder and tries to reassure the little thrush that she is, or will be, alright. It will do her no good worrying about things she cannot change right now.
===
The feeling of being overwhelmed returns as she enters the waiting room with the others. The opulence of the furnishings is enough to outshine even her wildest dreams of the finery enjoyed by the noble and royal houses of the Inner Sea. For a small waif form the Dockside of Korvosa, it is proving a bit much. Thankfully, Jessica seems to be taking a good deal of attention from those who might look askance at Audria. For the first time since they had gathered together to ride up to the castle, Audria gets a good look at Jessica's outfit, and can't help but smile and shake her head. How Jessica hadn't split a seam on the ride up will just have to be one of those mysteries that would never have a good explanation, and Audria is more than happy to blend into the background with her shimmering under the bright lights of high society.
Talanaliel feels the ebb and flow of the anxiety inside Audria, and wonders if she should try talking to her charge when she notices a wave of amusement, or bemusement, through her link with Audria. It could be hard to tell the two emotions apart at times, but Talanaliel is just happy that something is helping Audria regain some sense of balance and drawing her from the dark mood she'd been sliding into earlier.
"Feeling better," she asks the young priestess. If her beak had allowed it, she would have smiled when Audria nodded. "Good! No sense in being mopey when you can't do anything about whatever it is you're mopey about."
"I'll try, Tallyfeather," Audria promises quietly. She gives the thrush a smile before looking around to see how the others are holding up while they wait. "It's just a lot to take in."
Merula leaves Dal and Pippip's comments alone for the present and watches the faces and bearing of the Korvosan Guard and Sable Company soldiers with what she hopes is casual interest as they proceed up the ramp to the great gate. There seems to be tension between them and the Hellknights. No doubt they did not like that the Nail had to be brought in to restore their brand of bloody-booted order. But is it anything more than that?
When they are granted entry through the gates, she disembarks and enters the castle behind the others, unaffected by the fine surroundings but looking around covertly to see if anyone she knows is here. She spots Keyra Endrin, her red hair as neatly arranged as Merula has ever seen it, slouching and mutinously scratching at the uncomfortable-looking ruffle of her high-collared dress as she studiously ignores the attempts of her governess Miss Mhartis to bring her in to a polite conversation with an old man with a long beard. That means her father must be around somewhere too; perhaps with the Sable Company guards outside, although she did not see him there.
A coldly emphasized word from the nearest desk with an ensorcelled orb causes her to glance over and then immediately turn her face away, hoping not to be noticed. Perhaps the intricately braided and artfully tousled new style with the combs that Audria's friend Jessica kindly helped dress her hair in before leaving will disguise her. Druvalia Tuttle and her daughter Cordelinda can be difficult to placate at the best of times, and it looks as though Magistrate Tuttle, ever the stickler, does not appreciate being subjected to a magical effect outside of the strict legal guidelines for such things: "—ven if it is accurate, on which I place no assurance—"
Merula winces ever so slightly, not envying the person on registration duty, and does everything but actively hide her face. "There... isn't any chance those magical orbs will do something else we would not like if we knew about it, is there?" she asks quietly to the group at large, her eyes flicking from Brother Theolan to Audria to Abella, Dal, and Pip.
Audria looks over at the orbs and shrugs. If Eliana was here, she could tell them more about the orbs, but Audria isn't blessed with such sight.
"Abella or Brother Theolan might know more about them," Audria suggests. "I don't think they'd appreciate me giving them a look with what I can see. I doubt I'd get as lucky as I did with Dal and just get a disapproving look and a talking-to."
As the serving staff moves among the group and then some of them depart, Pip is nowhere to be seen. Some of the staff is quite young and of a similar build to the hobbit.
With a quick change of clothes as the servants come in, the hobbit changes his mannerisms to those he learned as second nature to the servant class that needs to survive by avoiding eye contact and taking a deferential pose. He followed some of the servants back in a trickle, with a goal to join the main throng that inevitably led to the place the servants gather to gossip. At the manor house it was the kitchen, but in this large castle he was eager to see where it was.
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Abella is quite enjoying herself l already, imagining how she would put on a function of this scale to celebrate her own success. Finally, people appreciate her! Just imagine when she is at the height of her power and can return the dead to life.
”I doubt the orbs do anything beyond what we were told they did, catching lies. Anything more complicated would be exponentially more expensive. Honestly, if it were me, I would just make them little orbs that glow when you touch them and *tell* everyone they detected lying. The proctor can probably pick out lies to those questions well enough without assistance. Identifying your host’s magic items, including casting spells to do so, is totally gauche, and all you have to do to rich people is tell them something is gauche and they will never do it.”
Merula smiles, amused. "What an unconventional way of thinking. I imagine exposing who was discomfited by the idea of touching one would also reveal much."
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Audria rubs her temples. Leave it Abella to think of something twisty like that, then there's that intrusive thought she has to deal with.
"Why is it," she mutters to no one in particular, "that every time I hear someone say gauche, I keep thinking they're mispronouncing gouache?"
She shakes her head, focusing back on the conversation at hand.
"How common is magic among nobility," she asks in a much clearer voice. "I mean, most people I know would be nervous about approaching anything magic, especially with goo-dropping imps about." Her voice grows much darker and her expression matches as she brings up the escaped diabolic familiars from the Academae. It doesn't take someone skilled in reading people to understand that the animosity is personal.
Come to think of it, she didn't hesitate much when they had to fight of a pair of the fiends while searching for the children that didn't make it to the Sanctuary of Shelyn the night they put Lamm and his cronies out of Korvosa's misery.
Abella shrugs at Audria’s question as something unrelated nags at her. ”It would depend. The inbreeding might mean more sorcerers if they choose pairings based on that, otherwise it would be the same as anywhere else, I expect. Definitely more wizards and magi as they can afford the schooling.” She finally catches that mental thread that was itching at her brain. She turns to Merula. ”Hello, dear! I do not believe we have been introduced. I am Abella Tribastarion. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She bows with an entreating grin. ”How did Canary here make the acquaintance of such a lovely lady?”
"Goo-dropping...?" Merula begins to ask, but is distracted by Abella's greeting. She returns the bow, with an apologetic smile. "Oh, have we not been introduced? I beg your pardon, how shatterbrained of me. I am Merula Antius. The pleasure is all mine, Miss Tribastarion."
The nickname 'Canary' appears to give her pause, but then her brow clears and she laughs a little. "Just as you say, with her beautiful singing voice. Audria and her friend Eliana were kind enough to step in for two of my previous troupe's regular canaries when they fell ill at the last minute before a performance as the 'fairy garden' at a private ball. And the rest is history. That was almost two years ago, perhaps."
"Speaking of which, I recall that party had quite a bit of minor magic around for decoration — dancing colored lights, floating trays of food and drink for the guests, and so on. I should think most nobles would not be alarmed by the small and common magics that improve their lives. And I believe some families who can afford it even keep magicians and priests on staff full-time to tutor their children and heal them of any minor ailments and injuries. But of course it all hinges on how... well-inlaid they are, let us say." Her smile turns slightly ironic.
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Abella listens thoughtfully as Merula explains, giving a sly glance over at Audria when her singing voice is mentioned. ”I did not even know she sung when I named her as such! I suppose I just have excellent instincts about people.” She turns back to Merula, making a show of leaning in and scratching her chin like an investigator. ”Speaking of which….”
There is something familiar and trustworthy about this Merula, but Abella cannot locate exactly why. She is quite sure she has never met this person in her life. Canary does not seem the type to hang around people of low character—well, except for Abella herself—so that is probably all it is. Abella finally claps her hands together decisively. ”I have decided you shall be Dove.”
Merula tilts her head and blinks in mild confusion, and then chuckles, a low melodic sound that otherwise has nothing much in common with a dove's coo. "A nickname, already? I'm honored."
Audria decides that keeping her mouth shut is probably the best course of action when it turns to the, ah, proclivities of nobles. The less she says, the less likely she is to make a fool of herself, after all.
When the topic turns back to her singing, she gives Abella a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, I guess it never really came up. Elli and I have preformed with Merula a few more times since then, but the last time was," she turns to Merula, now christened Dove, raises an eyebrow in question, "what? six or seven months ago? The last time they called us in, they just said you'd left."
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"Thank you so much for all your help," Jessica says with such gratitude, one would think Dal had just returned from an epic quest producing Audria as proof of completion instead of standing there trying to control his gaze as the woman's bosom practically hits Dal's jaw, the frisky flesh jiggling for no discernible reason. She brushes her fingers lightly across the surface of his tunic as she speaks, and somehow Dal can feel the movement like she ran them over his bare skin.
"And what have I said to embarrass you, dearest Audria?" Jessica blinks innocently. "Are we not in the house of love where all expressions of joy and passion for one another is expressed? Surely, no one here is unaware of how we humanoids most frequently express our love for each other?" She slides around Dal so closely, it may be a dare to him to reach out and stop her.
"Oh, look at all of this!" the attractive woman squeals with joy at Audria's overa-blonde-ance of hair. She reaches into her satchel and whispers some words, and, when she removes her hand, there is the slightest of luminescence encasing her fingers. She reaches down and gathers up the mounds which surprisingly do not fade into magic sparkles on contact. As she bends over to retrieve the threads of Audria's golden mane, some gasps are heard from those onlookers who stand in places where such a movement might produce a rather spectacular view. Some stand mouths agape while others look away as Dal had done. Most begin to mirror Audria's own crimson complexion while some—both men and women—get a hungry look in their eyes. Sister Jenelyn shakes her head with her eyes closed and, with no attempt to be surreptitious, clears her throat causing Jessica to straighten up and peer over her shoulder. When she's sees her audience she smiles sweetly and pokes a hand through the hair to wave at them. Could she really be so unaware of why this attention is given?
"Away to your room, my sweet innocent darling. If you prefer for all your friends not to know all the wonderful things you need to know for your first time at a noble party. Is that not why I have been summoned? Brother Theolan's missive indicated I am to help prepare everyone for a gala at the castle. I remember when I was first invited to a magnificent evening of passionate dining and delicious dancing." Jessica speaks in such an innocent manner with wide eyes and a sweet tone, it's almost conceivable she doesn't seem to know how her words are coming across. Hmmm...
Her eyes turn to Dal once again, and it's almost as if she's speaking directly at him. "It was a student mixer when I started at the Acadamae. Not quite a gala at Castle Korvosa, but I assure you those mages sure have incredible balls, using the magic of their staves, and lasting long into the night. I was indeed up for the challenge and I was determined not to settle for my first dance partner because we must try many dances to determine what we enjoy, no?" As she speaks, her voice seems to get softer, breathier until the last which is almost a whisper only Dal and Audria can hear.
If Audria doesn't stop her, Jessica will launch into a rather precise and probably scandalous tale of her first dance. Most anyone who hears it will certainly think "dance" could be replaced with another word entirely...
Regardless of Audria's potential interruption, Jessica will favor Dal with another cute smile and reach out a finger to flick any dangling strands of hair he may have showing. Raising her voice but yet still seemingly speaking directly to Dal "If you or anyone else attending the event needs a trim or a new styling for your appearance, I'm available." Again, the words are so innocently spoken...
Jessica's antics have Audria a blushing, stuttering mess. The one saving grace is that Eliana isn't here to be embarrassed right beside her. It takes her a bit to find her voice, but she manages it just as she was getting to the "juicy bits," she often called the details of her escapades.
Audria's shout of indignation is the loudest and sharpest anyone in the party has heard her be; even her tone with Shrike wasn't so harsh.
"Some things are better left private," she says through clenched teeth when she has the woman's attention. Her face is darker than her hair thanks to the furious flushing from her embarrassment. She calms, marginally, as she takes in a deep breath. "And you know exactly what Brother Theolan meant. (At least I hope he meant styling hair.)" She grumbles, the last part a little louder than she intended, or wanted, for it to be.
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Then, while fidgeting with his collar once more, he added, “That’s not a bad idea actually, Pip. But hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
Barely managing to control the gooseflesh from turning into a shiver, Dal furrowed his brow in an effort to focus all of his attention on that interesting spot on the wall. Had a crack begun to form? Maybe an imp was up to something.
His eye flickered to Jessica. And lingered. Damn. Now that he had looked, he would definitely do so again. The men at the taverns often referred to this as “breaking the seal.”
“So, you attended the Acadamae? That’s quite, uh, something,” the words stumbled out.
Mirth
Dal cleared his throat before speaking again and he did his best to play dumb as she dropped euphemism after euphemism. “My parents had plans for me to attend as well, you know? Turns out that they don’t hold spots for homeless orphans who can’t produce verification that their parents had secured a spot before their deaths.” The memory did wonders to distract Dal from the current predicament. For all of four seconds.
Thankfully, Audria and her outburst picked up the slack. “Audria’s right, of course. Time and place and whatnot.”
“Yeah, like a bedroom and whenever,” the thought popped into Dal’s mind unbidden. Dal blinked the thought away and when he opened them again he stared at Audria. “Hey! You’re hair!”
Dal raised one hand slightly in an effort to get the attention of a staff member. “I can’t exactly blame them for the use of magic as a means to deter or detain anyone who might be planning something against the Queen or any of her guests.” Dal thought. He sighed as the staff member passed right by to offer a drink to another guest.
“The city is still in a bad way and having such a lavish affair,” Dal locked eyes with a guard who stood at the ready across the room, ”is sure to stir up some kind of trouble.”
Anxiety
Dal looked down to see proof of what he already knew would happen: in an effort to avoid being stepped on or kicked, Pockets had pressed himself so hard against Dal’s leg that the cat threatened to merge his matter with Dal’s. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Dal had been so concerned with how he was going to feel at this event that he had not given any thought at all to how a cat (an extremely smart cat, but a cat nonetheless) would feel around all of these clumsy feet. He knelt and gave Pockets a quick pat on the side.
“It’s okay. Just this once I give you permission to hangout right under my feet,” Dal whispered. Pockets seemed to relax ever so slightly as the anxiety Dal could feel coming from the familiar cooled just a bit.
Something moved past Dal and he stood up just in time to see a second staff member passing with another tray. “I feel like I swallowed an entire harvest’s worth of cotton.”
”I have decided you shall be Dove.”
Dal turned to address the others, “I’m so sorry,” he said. ”You all don’t know each other? I just assumed that you were another member of this merry band prior to, uh, our…eventful meeting,” Dal fumbled over the end of the sentence, uncertain of how much to say when so many strange ears could be listening. He snatched a glass off of a tray, nearly toppling the entire arrangement, and gulped down the chilled water. “Inheritor, save me! That’s much better.”
"Sorry, I guess it never really came up. Elli and I have performed with Merula a few more times since then, but the last time was," she turns to Merula, now christened Dove, raises an eyebrow in question, "what? Six or seven months ago? The last time they called us in, they just said you'd left."
Dal turned to address the others, “I’m so sorry,” he said. “You all don’t know each other? I just assumed that you were another member of this merry band prior to, uh, our…eventful meeting,” Dal fumbled over the end of the sentence, uncertain of how much to say when so many strange ears could be listening. He snatched a glass off of a tray, nearly toppling the entire arrangement, and gulped down the chilled water. “Inheritor, save me! That’s much better.”
Merula gives Dal a curious look*. "I have known Audria for a few years now," she says cautiously, "but we have not shared a stage in over six months. It was around then that I had the good fortune to audition for a more permanent arrangement with Saratha Florescu's troupe, the Farrago. But I still see Cherie from the Follies fairly often — you will remember her better as her usual character Dame Vedra, perhaps." This last she addresses to Audria.
"Congratulations," Audria says, genuinely happy for Merula. "I wish we had known, Eliana and I would have loved to throw you a party to celebrate."
As the conversation moves on, she notices Dal's cat, Pockets, that was his name, looking less than thrilled to be on the floor. She looks to Talanaliel who slumps as she nods, knowing what her charge wanted to do. Audria shifts a little closer to Dal and Pockets before kneeling and sitting on her heels.
"Not fun down there, is it," she asks the cat. "Would you mind if I picked you up and carried you? I wouldn't mind as long as you didn't try to eat Tallyfeather here, or tease her too much."
"This is all your fault, you know," Talanaliel tweets at Dal from somewhere between his hip and knee. "If you hadn't been there with this fluffy monster of yours!"
When they are granted entry through the gates, she disembarks and enters the castle behind the others, unaffected by the fine surroundings but looking around covertly to see if anyone she knows is here. She spots Keyra Endrin, her red hair as neatly arranged as Merula has ever seen it, slouching and mutinously scratching at the uncomfortable-looking ruffle of her high-collared dress as she studiously ignores the attempts of her governess Miss Mhartis to bring her in to a polite conversation with an old man with a long beard.
Keyra's eyes roam around the room looking for any distraction from what must be a boring adult story or insufferable compliments about what a pretty young lady she is or insistences on how long her parents have been acquaintances. She honestly has no idea since she hasn't been paying any attention beyond the need to know when to interject a "Thank you, kind sir," or "My, that's exactly right," or "Oh, what wonderful advice."
Wait, who's that? Merula??
"That's-such-a-sweet-thing-to-say. I'm-so-terribly-sorry, I-see-someone-I-absolutely-must-talk-to-right-away. Thank-you-bye-bye-for-now. Excuse-me," comes the rapid-fire string of teenager chat before the girl hops up and flounces her way towards the party. Tall and gangly for a girl on the cusp of early womanhood, she hasn't quite grown into her height or limbs, but she moves with hints of grace like a dancer or even perhaps a swordswoman instead of the loping gait one might expect.
"Merula! Oh, thank Abadar. You're literally saving my life right now." Keyra looks Merula up and down before snatching a glass of water off the tray of a castle servant walking by without even turning around. "Wow, you look great! You know the shindig is tomorrow, yeah? You should save the best stuff for then." Without waiting for an invitation, the thirteen year old with red-orange hair like fading sunset promptly plops herself on whatever edge is showing of Merula's chair precipitating a need for the woman to scootch a bit to make room. Merula can smell the human teen on the girl with her sensitive nose. The hormones and extra oil on her skin isn't terribly unpleasant thankfully, and clearly Keyra's governess must have insisted on some type scented soap, but its fragrance has all but faded now.
Keyra sweeps her gaze across the group while she gulps down half the goblet of cool water. She raises an eyebrow at the bird and the cat and squints at Brother Theolan with the hint of recognition forming in her eyes. "Quite an interesting bunch. Are these your friends, or..." she lets out a gasp, "Is this your troupe? Are you performing for the King's memorial?"
Across the room Magistrate Tuttle is continuing to voice her opinion on being subjected to the tests despite who she is and her position within the government. The beleaguered woman to whom Druvalia addresses continues time and time again to get a word in edgewise, but Druvalia just hasn't run out of steam yet and barrels forward.
With a quick change of clothes as the servants come in, the hobbit changes his mannerisms to those he learned as second nature to the servant class that needs to survive by avoiding eye contact and taking a deferential pose. He followed some of the servants back in a trickle, with a goal to join the main throng that inevitably led to the place the servants gather to gossip. At the manor house it was the kitchen, but in this large castle he was eager to see where it was.
Unfortunately, security is particularly tight today. The servants providing water go in and out of a room where they are gathering to rest and chat between trips. A pair of Abadaran clerics are on hand using divine magic to refill a few barrels with spouts with clean, crisp water. All other exits to the room leading deeper into the castle are guarded by men and woman in heavy armor and sporting heavy maces and bastard swords. They do not concern themselves with the activity of the castle workforce and ostensibly ignore the attendants and servants of some of the more powerful or notable guests who've entered the room. The side-eye observation isn't as discrete as they might think however.
As he makes his way through the crowd of staff making jokes and commiserating with the workers, Pip hears a familiar voice.
"...cifically requested be kept here. My master sent an entire cask ahead of us, so it could be chilled by the time we arrived. Please check again. Orisini, Vencarlo Orisini."
It is Dendren, the man Pippip nearly stabbed to death.
"" Audria's shout of indignation is the loudest and sharpest anyone in the party has heard her be; even her tone with Shrike wasn't so harsh.
"Some things are better left private," she says through clenched teeth when she has the woman's attention. Her face is darker than her hair thanks to the furious flushing from her embarrassment. She calms, marginally, as she takes in a deep breath. "And you know exactly what Brother Theolan meant. (At least I hope he meant styling hair.)" she grumbles, the last part a little louder than she intended or wanted it to be.
Jessica's head whips around her eyes wide with shock and whatever completely innocent words she may have been speaking to Dal cut off instantly. "Oh, my dear sweet duckling. I had no idea my little story about learning to dance was causing you such discomfort." Jessica smiles softly while continuing to scoop up the pleth-hair-a of strawberry blonde waves before depositing the mass into Audria's own arms. "Don't you worry, pumpkin, I'm going make sure you don't have any need to be jealous of what a wonderful time I had. We'll be certain you're ready for your big debut in front of all the fine and yummy lords and ladies tomorrow. You'll be able to have your pick for the dance!"
"Bye for now, you bewitching man, I'm sure I'll see you later." Jessica throws Dal the smile of a perfect angel as she herds Audria and her tresses towards the young paladin's room.
"Did-did you see that boy's face?? I think he was a hair away from propositioning me right there in the Sanctuary atrium!" the young woman laughs and collapses onto Eliana's bed. She doesn't even attempt to be modest and the brevity of her skirt allows Audria to see the rather tiny satin undergarments (if they can even be called garments!) Jessica is wearing.
"Oh, I love coming here. It's one thing to play my routine at the Doxies, but everyone expects it to one degree or another. This place...it's like you all have found a way to reinstall innocence over the top of everybody's sins." She leans forward. "Audria, my love, I promise you, Jenelyn is no saint of virtue. You've seen her. She's gorgeous. No way she doesn't know something even I haven't seen."
Her laughter under control, she smiles at Audria in that way Jessica has. Her real smile. That one she reserves for those she really cares about. "How are you doing, kiddo? You seem a bit more high strung then usual. Is it because I embarrassed you in front of your new friends? Tell me about them."
And just like that, Jessica was Audria's big sister again. Before she knows it, she's sitting on a stool, and Jessica has those special shears which can somehow cut Audria and Eliana's magic hair without it fading into shimmers of light. There's a lot to cut, and Jessica takes her time letting Audria talk as much as she wants, and then singing softly when Audria has quieted. Her voice is enchanting as she sings versions of Varisian folk songs Audria seldom hears.
Pip moved among the servants. He would quickly stand by a servant when that servant approached another servant to appear like he belonged. He nodded at a few conversations, then heard a familiar voice. Chilled to the bone, Pip quickly turns his back on the voice and quietly moves away.
'Dendren is here -- Dendren is here'! I have to warn the others. Pip moves back to the room they came from.
Audria may be stronger than Jessica, but the woman has the advantage of leverage and a pile of hair to use as a distraction. Before the young paladin can even protest, she's being guided out of the atrium and back to the room she normally shares with Eliana, but is currently sharing with Abella, at least until the mage finds other accommodations. All she can do is blush as she is shepherded along and pray that Jessica isn't planning on teasing her too much more.
Audria finds it hard to stay mad at Jessica, and her glare relents as Jessica gets her settled into a stool and asks about her friends and why she seems more wound up.
"A lot of things have been happening," Audria answers after getting settled. "Did you hear about what happened to Gaedren Lamm and his cronies," she asks as Jessica brushes out the tangles. Thankfully, her hair had stopped growing as she calmed down, and as she thinks on that, and what Jessica had said about Dal, she finds herself asking Jessica, "How long can you can my hair?"
"Oh? Are you trying to impress someone," Jessica teases as she leans in close. "Do tell!"
"No, it's not like that," Audria says feeling embarrassed for an entirely different reason. "I... I get compliments on it and I wanted to see if you could cut it longer."
"Oh? OH! Of course! That night we met. Never before or since I have seen two lovely little songbirds so out of place. You and Eliana were so adorable we could have eaten you right up!" *Nyom!* Jessica acts like she's going to nibble Audria's neck, but backs away as she remembers she's in the middle of something.
"Blast. I need to get to work," she mutters as she realizes she only has so long. "How long would you like it?"
"C-could you make it long enough to have a braid to my waist?"
"Sure! Just be careful not to sit on it when it's down. Talk about pains in the neck." Jessica chuckles as she gets to work. For a few moments there's only the snip of scissors as she starts trimming the hair at least a foot longer than needed for Audria's request.
"So what's this about Lamm of all people? I heard he'd run afoul of someone who got tired of his old ass and strung him and his boys up outside his old hideout. I'd thought someone sweet and innocent like you wouldn't have even heard of him," Jessica says as she continues her work.
"If only that were true," Audria says, her tone dark as she recalls the years she spent under the cruel man's care. She feels Jessica stiffening in surprise.
Right, Jessica doesn't know about that.
"Well, you wanted to know why I seemed so high-strung. I guess Lamm's as good a place to start as any," Audria says. "Eliana and I were two of his Lambs. We didn't have anyone else or anywhere else to go, and when you're not even five years old and starving, the promise of a hot meal and a warm bed can buy a lot of trust. Eliana got caught in his web not long after I did, a few months, maybe. We became friends and stuck by each other's side. Good thing for both of us. Lamm was going to have her beaten, and I stepped in. She got away, but Lamm and his bully-boys caught me and beat me bloody instead. Ellie went and grabbed Brother Theolan, which might be the only reason I'm still here."
"That was two years ago. The night everything went crazy and King Eodred died, Ellie was invited to go play at some nobleman's party and I got a Harrow Card in my sketchbook inviting me to do something about Lamm. I'd probably have stayed here if not for Tallyfeather." Audria chuckled as she remembers the little thrush practically pulling her out the window then pushing her through Zellara's door.
"I met Abella at that meeting and we went out to take care of Lamm. I-- I killed Giggles, and Lamm died as I was trying to get him to call off his pet monster and Abella slit his throat. I always knew there was a chance I'd have to kill someone, but--" her voice trails off as the pangs of guilt come back. Not as strong nor as long lasting as before, but still there all the same.
"Well, we killed them all, and no, I don't know who strung them up later. Most of us parted ways, but Abella stuck around and helped me gather up the kids that didn't follow Tally back here. That's how we ran into Pip. One of the Lambs was a charge of his and he'd heard that some of the kids had made it back to the Sanctuary. I haven't really gotten to know him that well, other than he is fond of bad puns. We ran into Dal while looking for the last group. He'd heard about them being loose, too, and wanted to help them. So he and we heard that a beggar named Silver Sven probably knew something. That's when we ran into some group that likes red and mantis masks. They were looking for recruits and apparently one of them wanted Silver Sven dead. We and Dal were looking for him and Dal found him before we, and thankfully his would-be assassins, did."
Audria starts to shake, the memory of her cutting a man nearly in half still too fresh in her mind to fully repress the emotions it brings. Bartholomew's words had helped, but the pain and the tang of blood are still too raw in her mind.
"And that's when I killed another man," she said quietly. "And before that, I ran into a woman, Ember, Embercat, or whatever her goons called her. She attacked me and I knocked her out, then she attacked me again last night, this time with two goons that tried to kill me, and almost killed Zach. I fought them off, but I almost killed someone else."
"So, yeah, I'm not surprised I'm bit more high strung," She finishes. She tries to push away the self-pity, but it's hard when realize you've gone through so much in less than a week.
"Sorry," she says after a moment when she realizes that Jessica isn't saying anything. "I'm worried. I haven't seen Ellie or Trinia since this whole mess started. I've stained my hands with blood, and I've been worried sick about finding all of those kids before something happened to them. Oh! And I had to run from a swarm of spiders and an ettercap that were chasing me and the kids I'd found in the middle of this mess."
Audria turns to look at Jessica and grimaces. "It's been a long week."
"Hello, Lady Keyra. It's good to see you." Merula smiles in welcome recognition at Keyra Endrin — she has a soft spot for the girl, since she remembers being similarly coltish at that age, and similarly likely to make her governess despair of her "hoydenish ways." She pats the hatbox containing her accessories, including the silk wrap and two jeweled (rather than her current pair of wooden) combs. "I still have a card or two to play later, I hope. And thank you, that is kind; you look very well yourself. Though the ruffle is a most hateful invention, is it not?" Her gray eyes twinkle conspiratorially. But she does not wish to linger too long on the subject of looks, even to compliment the effort that went into that artfully pinned hair; Keyra can be highly self-conscious, in the way of many adolescent girls. She is made enormously uncomfortable whenever anyone calls her pretty or remarks upon any unusual aspect of her appearance, like her fiery hair or height, even if the attention is meant only to be flattering.
"This is not precisely my troupe — I am more like a hanger-on of theirs — but permit me to present them to you." She gestures gracefully to each person in turn. "My friend Audria, a chosen acolyte of Shelyn, and her intelligent thrush companion Talanaliel. Her senior in the faith and head of the Sanctuary of Shelyn, Brother Theolan. A friend of hers and of the church, Jessica L'Morie. And Audria's companions in certain mysterious recent events which I understand to have earned them the new Queen's personal gratitude."
She will stick to descriptors she could easily have obtained from Audria. "Abella Tribastarion, a naturally gifted mage who can heal or harm with equal facility. Dalmano Imperiosus, a kind of witch of the streets, and his familiar Pockets the cat. And Pippip H— wait a moment. Where did Mister Hooray go?"
She looks around, then shrugs philosophically. "Well, I'm sure he will turn up. He is a scholar, tutor and bard. Everyone, this is Lady Keyra Endrin of House Endrin, who is bidding fair to be a better dancer than I am — and certainly a better swordswoman." The house she names is that of a relatively minor but old and well-respected noble family with deep connections to the Sable Company, the Korvosan Guard, and the much larger, wealthier and more influential House Jeggare. Its current head is also the current Commandant of the Sable Company, Marcus Endrin.
"We are not here to perform, more's the pity — except in the sense that we are all dancing attendance on the new queen." Her voice is light and matter-of-fact, giving no hint of her feelings on the matter, if she has any. "I suppose there will be only solemn music and speeches, if anything, since this gathering is officially a remembrance."
A sudden worrisome thought swings her head around. Keyra would not be here at all if her father had been killed, and she is not acting as Merula would expect if he had been badly hurt, but still— "Forgive me, I have been talking nothing but trivialities. How is your father? Your household? The past few days must have been hard indeed for you, and for all his people."
Merula gives Dal a curious look*. "I have known Audria for a few years now," she says cautiously, "but we have not shared a stage in over six months. It was around then that I had the good fortune to audition for a more permanent arrangement with Saratha Florescu's troupe, the Farrago. But I still see Cherie from the Follies fairly often — you will remember her better as her usual character Dame Vedra, perhaps." This last she addresses to Audria.
“I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with any of those names,” Dal said. “I’ve never really had much of an interest in the theatre.” He looked around for someone to take his empty glass before simply balancing it on the chair rail along the wall then added, in a matter-of-fact tone, “I understand the draw, it’s just not for me.”
Dal blinked away the shock as Pockets allowed himself to be scooped up. And was that purring? He looked down at the anxious bird, “No, no. I’m not taking the blame on this. Any issue you have with Pockets is between you and him. Though if you’re looking for some payback I happen to know that-”
His words cut off as they, or more accurately, Merula, was approached by a young girl. “Pip is…” Dal began with a glance around the room, “somewhere, I’m sure. Hopefully looking to snag some sweet treats for later.”