GM: So... lantern in hand, outside Benedict's office.
Dressed...?
Helena: Formal uniform (retired) as before.
I really am just trying again. Did the secretary say if I could expect the
meeting to be private?
GM: How did you ask?
Helena: So... I requested the meeting; now
I'm here I ask of the secretary if he/she knows if the meeting will be private.
GM: "I was not informed of any other attendees,
Ambassador."
Helena: I give a short bow. "Thank you."
And I head to where I am intended to wait.
GM: As you move to sit, the seneschal goes
to the office door and opens it. Benedict waves you in from his seat, only
standing as you enter.
Helena: I nod thanks to the seneschal, and
head in.
Benedict "Ambassador. Welcome."
Helena: I bow formally. "Thank you for
seeing me, Lord General."
Benedict: He nods in reply, respectfully. "No
trouble. Our earlier haste disrupted our last meeting, so this seemed prudent."
(a kind assessment of what happened before, perhaps)
Helena: "Yes. I had wished to present
you with this gift from my garden at home, in thanks for your intervention
and help with the embassy. You were very kind." I set the lamp forward
towards him on the desk, if there is a clear spot.
GM: There is a lantern-sized clear spot, much
like before.
Helena: "Now seems a better time."
Benedict: "Perhaps so." He sets a
hand atop the lantern for a moment.
GM: "A trophy of a prior success? Sentimental
value, I presume." The crease of a smile begins on his face, but somehow
fails to fully form (as usual, it seems).
Helena: I consider his description, hesitating.
"A... recognition of effort and skill, rather than a trophy, Sir. Even
then it was not thought that we had won.
"But, yes, sentimental. The artist is well known among the houses."
Benedict: Glossing over the first, "I
thought I recognized the craftsmanship." He sits, gesturing for you
to do the same. Paperwork bearing the Royal Seal comes to hand, which he
offers for your review.
Helena: "Kotokai, Sir." I reach forward
and accept the papers from him.
Benedict: Benedict gives an almost imperceptible
nod in recognition of the name, then.
The paperwork seems reasonable and thorough, and includes what Random had
mentioned at last night's dinner about Trump-only for transport.
Helena: I spend a few minutes reading it in
detail, then look up. "Thank you, Sir. I shall pass this to Lord Jesby
directly."
Benedict: After a moment's quiet, "Are
the grounds suitable for your needs?"
Helena: "Very much so. I am... we are
still impressed with your generosity. I hope we have the opportunity to
return the value and favor to you."
Benedict: "Would it disquiet you to learn
that you already have?"
Helena: I tilt my head, questioningly.
Benedict: He seems to study your reactions,
but says nothing.
Helena: "In what way, may I ask?"
Benedict: Another hard quiet, and then... "Wish
your mother well when you see her next." Suddenly, you feel dismissed.
Helena: I nod though I am still confused, rise
and turn to leave. After a step away from the desk, I turn back. "Lord
General, I accompanied you and the others on the mission fighting for my
own life and for the lives of those of Amber I have been taught to respect.
If fulfilling this clear duty is the boon you feel I have done you... I...
It is not of my upbringing to expect... to understand this."
Benedict: His look seems to indicate some vague
confidence that things will become clear to you in time, but he says nothing
more, busying himself with other apparent business of state or arms.
Helena: I bow to him - or I suppose, really
to his desk - and back out.
GM: The seneschal notes your departure, eyeing
you as if to ak if you have any further or future business.
Helena: I thank him, but don't know what to
say about that. Suddenly I pause as I am about to pass him by. "Do
you know of whom I ask a meeting with the Prince General of Arden?"
GM: "There is a Ranger Barracks within
sight of the Arden Gate. That usually suffices."
Helena: "Thank you again." I take
my leave.
GM: He nods.
Next?
Helena: Heh. She needs a half day to get her breath back ;-)
GM: What would she do to relax, then?
Helena: She feels so over-bold talking after he had dismissed her.
Mm, probably go and oversee some of the cleanup at the building. Also
talk to Loren, pass him a copy of the King's commission to share with
Lord Jesby, get his take on the document and on the party politics. I'm
not sure yet if I'll tell him of the meeting with Benedict. (i.e., she
works to relax.)
Loren: Loren takes the documents, gives them a cursory review and
pronounces them fair on first look. Formally, but warmly, "Well done,
Helena. What can I send to ease the transition?" (figures ;-))
Helena: "Brandy." I laugh. "One for me, a case for
the King."
Loren: After a brief start, he laughs politely. "Remind me
of the ways-key for your cellars, and I'll have some to you shortly...
unless you require something new...." (Dragon Brandy is a kick in
the head, so it's up to you whether it would be on hand in your reserves)
Helena: I show him, and ask after the Channicut Reserve for myself.
"His Majesty thinks he wants the Dragon. I'm afraid I don't have
a case in my collection.
"Oh, also, additional Amber currency. I shall have to pay the workmen
very soon here, and the Princess Florimel suggested a formal opening event,
which I promised for two months time."
Loren: "I'll be in touch as soon as I can set claws on a few
cases." Loren summons an accountant, who reappears with sufficient
coin to exchange.
Helena: I take the money and set it aside, enjoying the comfortable
silence between us. "So my delayed meeting with the Lord General
went... well."
Loren: Loren raises a thorny eyebrow, waiting for the rest of what
you aren't saying.
Helena: I look down and back up at him. "He feels there is
no debt for his assistance with the land and embassy. He gives his good
wishes to Mother." I tell him in the order and context, to see if
he makes anything of it.
Loren: Loren's visage darkens, his pupils narrowing to slits. A
silence drags for uncomfortable seconds, and then, "I will pass on
his good wishes," as if it were a Christmas card from Grandpa instead
of a vanished debt to the Lord General. Even recovered, you sense some
pain in your father's manner now.
Helena: I ache on his behalf, and hers. I reach a hand to him,
briefly, if he allows. "Is she well? I have not seen her since dinner
some months ago."
I know that in some fundamental way she is not well, and that is the fault
of my conception and birth, but... she has been on many occasions happy,
good, well in every other regard, and a loving if often absent mother.
Loren: Loren's hand seems to retreat of its own accord until he
realizes, and then he takes your offered touch, his mind guarded now.
"She is. *pause* I have not spoken of your mission to her, for fear
of how her mind might react," speaking as if she and her mind were
seperate beings.
Helena: "I am well, now. That risk is averted.
"Have you told her of the embassy at all?"
Loren: "Not at all. Only that you are abroad, diplomatically.
She presumes that your business is in the Black Zone, and I have done
nothing to dissuade her of that thought." A breath, almost ragged.
"She has been... fragile of late."
Helena: "This mission, I could pass it to someone else in
the House. I have full notes, briefings. I will not stay here if it will
hurt her for me to do so."
Loren: After collecting himself, "It would wound her deeper
to know that you remained homebound to ease her mind." His hand tightens
over yours, trying to convey reassurance, despite his buried anguish.
Helena: I breathe deeply. This is a morass. Straightening, I ask,
"What can I do, then, that will ease her mind in my work here?"
Loren: "When things are settled in Amber, stop by the Jesby
Mission in the Zone before you come home. Bring her some of that cocklebriar
root she loves so. Come back healthy and proud of all you have done, and
she will ask nothing of the specifics. Small lies will not harm her, if
it comes to that." His gray knuckled grip eases slightly before his
'comforting' might turn uncomfortable.
Helena: "I can do that very soon. I will."
Loren: He pats your hand, gentle now. Suddenly a duke once more,
"I will see to your brandy, and contact you soon. Good fortune, my
daughter."
Helena: "Father." I bow to him.
Loren: He bows in return, perhaps more deeply than would be entirely
proper in public, and then awaits the connection's end.
Helena: I let the contact slide away.
Gads. I can't face Julian at this moment. I do need to commission a Trump
of this place [if this game allows place trumps, if not, of a key person
I will have to get recommended and sent from the House], and discuss the
creation of a transport gate down by the warehouse portion.
I can make that call (to another person in House Jesby), but it is only
business. Then I imagine I'll spend the rest of the day doing as hard
labor as I can, cleaning, ordering supplies and furnishings, contracting
with maintenance people, etc.
GM: A place Trump will take time, but Jesby has several reputable
Artists. One could be made available fairly quickly, and would be done
with the labor in a day or two. What section of the embassy would it target?
Would she commission more than one location?
She is able to make herself quite busy, as the staff is nonexistant at
this end, at least thus far. Hours pass, near dark... I dare say she may
still be troubled, as Loren is very rarely in the state she saw today.
Simone: Yes, it is why she is burying herself
in details she could readily have taken care of by others if she waited.
Helena: I'll have a Trump made of the room by the entry - a copy
for myself and a copy held by Loren for the use of the House - and one
of my own room that I am creating from a pair of offices at the end of
the upstairs hall. The gate will have to be made in the warehouse loading
area, but that can wait several weeks at least.
GM: She notes that the gate has to be smaller
than (insert modest castle-archway size) to conform with the Crown orders.
The artist, one Bekl Jesby, comes through by the end of the night to commence
your first commission, unless you put him off.
Helena: If I have at least one of the guest
quarters ready, I will let him through; otherwise I will delay him until
that is sorted out.
GM: The uppermost rooms are fairly serviceable,
and with your cleaning frenzy, one could certainly be ready now.
Helena: That's fine. I bring him through,
following whatever protocol is demanded by the commission. I arrange that
we have dinner served, and breakfast.
GM: He nods, seeming too fascinated with
the environs to be concerned with any breaches in protocol.
Helena: When I'm able to get his attention,
I brief him and let him get to work.
GM: He sets up an arcane easel in view of
the entryway and commences, apparently quite pleased and willing to ignore
anything else you do that doesn't invade his 'frame'.
Helena: It occurs to me I need to hire some
security and a secretary, but obviously I can't make a start on that at
this late hour. Having pointed out Bekl's rooms and the facilities, I
eventually excuse myself, set up a palette with some blankets near the
front door if anyone should come knocking, lock up and try to get some
sleep.
GM: You have some formless nightmares that
night, but your memory refuses to bring them back to mind. You wake up
in demon form, covered in sweat.
Helena: Eesh. That doesn't happen often.
I wrap a sheet around myself so I can head upstairs and change. I look
in on Bekl, wake him if he's not up, and instruct him to take in the breakfast
should it arrive while I am bathing. I do so quickly, returning to human
form and dressing formally again.
GM: He has worked through the night, and
hardly grunts at your offer of breakfast... but he probably heard your
instruction.
Helena: I make that assumption.
GM: An odd chill persists as you bathe.
Helena: I chase it a little, trying to determine
if it is in my mind from the dreams, or some other unease. But I still
finish, dress, and tidy a little more, waiting for the breakfast.
GM: The chill seems to stem from the dreams,
and you are able to chase it far enough to sense that it reminds you of
being pinned to the cold, wet ground.
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