Drusilla's Den is rather larger than a den. It is, in fact, a house with three floors of dining pleasure. Of course, the higher up you go, the more exclusive and pricey. On the bottom floor, it is more public house than restaurant, with flowing taps, a lot of tables and chairs and even tables on the patio so one can enjoy the sights and sounds of the nearby stadium and its always burgeoning crowds.
     The second floor is far more decorated: a grand and even romantic dining ambience, with smaller tables, no larger than four to a setting, most frequently two to a setting, with loveseats and tables nearest the four fireplaces. As with the first floor, there is outside dining available on the portico overlooking the castle and markets.
     The third floor is the VIP section of the restaurant. Anyone may dine there, if they wish to pay for the privilege and the views. The furnishings are very richly appointed. The tables generally seat 4-6. It is a very popular locale for the young and well-to-do or highly placed...or by those who want to be well-to-do and highly placed or merely seen as such. There is, for the right price, even rooftop seating and dining on the rooftop garden, which opens for rooftop dancing once a week.
     It is, as ever, brimming with people. There are absolutely no places on the first floor. All tables are taken, and all seats and standing room only are also filled. Parvati glances at you as she heads up the carpeted stairs. "Gavin wasn't underestimating about the crowds. Makes you wonder if anyone's actually in the stadium. And don't you think he's really wanting to take me out? I think he really is interested. He said there was no need for jealousy. I think that means he's single. Do you?"

     Gillian heads up the stairs as well, intent on the third floor. The card has been tucked securely away - the sort of secure people who were raised on boats in sometimes wild and woolly parts of the world tend to favor. She's changed into cloud-grey silks with glimmering gold threads shot through; her new signature look, apparently. Her strawberry blonde curls are piled atop her head and held in place with gold combs with stylized suns on them, tiny diamond chips winking from their curling edges. "I'm sure he's single. If he weren't single, he'd have said that - he seems a pretty forthright type or he wouldn't have told us about," she blushes, "you know."
     She is wearing high-heeled shoes with the graceful ease of someone who's been raised to a certain standard. Her gown leaves her arms bare with Grecian-styled folds, gathered in snugly at the bosom and waist while still being discreet. A shawl is loose at her shoulders for in case the wind picks up, pinned with a similar gold sun motif brooch. "I should say though that, well - you should keep your options open," Gillian murmurs, lowering her voice confidentially. "You're going to meet a lot of people, you know? I know it probably seems hard to take in, but it's kind of like, you're in the 'in' crowd now. Sure, some people are going to be crappy and try to put you in your place, but your 'place' is, ultimately, as a future minister and as the best friend of a future queen who's already held in high regard by the royal family. So go out with Gavin, see how much you like him, but keep in mind there's going to be a lot of guys, if they're at all smart, who are going to like you and what you've got to offer. Anyway." She looks around. "I wonder who we talk to in order to get a table up here."

     "I hope they don't mind camping, because I'm in the mood for a good restaurant camp-out," Parvati says. She pauses on the landing to the third floor before climbing up the last flight of stairs.
     She is clothed still quite modernly, with a beautiful orange sari paired with fitted dark denim and orange jeweled heels. The heels are not as high as yours; she is not as graceful as you for starters!
     "Oh, I think there..." Parvati says, gesturing to a woman who is looking up as you appear.
     The woman is dressed in burgundy, her red hair beautifully arranged. She stands at a podium near the entrance from the stairs and smiles as you appear. "Hello, welcome to Drusilla's Den. Would you care for a table for two or will others be joining you? Just so you are aware, many tables are pre-reserved but we do have room at the moment..."
     Parvati smiles and leans into her friend. "Mention him and I bet we get the best table," she whispers.

     "Are you kidding?" Gillian whispers back. "I'm going to test how fast gossip spreads here." She giggles and straightens up, turning to the woman in burgundy. "I'd like a table with a little extra room if possible. I," she says it with perfect preppy aplomb, "might be having others join me; it depends on if he can get away. I'm Lady Gillian. I don't have a reservation, I'm afraid, unless my seneschal, Sir Gavin, sent word ahead."
     She lightly pats Parvati's shoulder, not bothering to look around to see who's here just yet. She smiles and waits to see how warm the welcome is.

     The demeanor of the woman is very professional. She gives nothing away. Likely she's seen her share of gossip-worthy trysts. "Certainly, let me look at tonight's list," she smiles courteously, her eyes scanning the list. She looks up quickly and smiles. "Lady Gillian. We would be most happy to accommodate you and your party. Normally, we require a full party before we seat, but we understand how his schedule must be."
     She isn't nervous, but she is giving her best, most cordial performance as she gathers two menu boards and gestures for you to follow. "Right this way, Lady Gillian."
     She leads you well into the room and toward the best view. The table is marked not with a reserved sign but with a placard with a golden crown. The Royal Table. It seats six, generously; there is room for up to ten if one wants to get cozy with one's party. The woman gestures for you both to be seated. "If I might suggest starting here," she points out two seats in the corner, with the most enviable view. "Those are the best seats." And conveniently, there is a third seat that would enjoy a similar spectacle. That will be for the Mystery Royal Guest.
     And suddenly, both your arrival and the fact that there are others already seated here becomes abruptly clear. "Thank you," Parvati says as she takes a seat (but only after Gillian). There are tables in the vicinity, both are filled, and now curious eyes glance toward the two at the Royal Table.
     The woman hands each of you a menu. "Your server will be right with you. Enjoy your afternoon." No, there will be no hustling you out. You have the table for the night.
     Parvati glances around, smiling. "So... okay... clearly you are on the list," she murmurs. "Isn't it lovely? You can actually watch the games from here," she notes. "And I know re options. I just find him completely handsome. This is all just ... so much to take in."

     She refrains from giggling now, poise perfect as she follows the woman to the table as if it is her birthright. "Thank you very much." Gillian slides into one of the suggested seats, smiling graciously and taking up the menu, waiting until the woman's departed before she turns to Parvati.
     "Obviously," she agrees, letting a small giggle escape, grinning. "It is beautiful. It is a lot, I agree." Gillian resists the urge to make a small face. Everything and anything she does will be reported on, now - but she can still speak! She examines the menu. "We're catapulted at once from being two Oxford students - something we both think of as an honor and an achievement - to hobnobbing, quite literally with royalty and nobility. It'd be easy to let it go to my head, but I just keep thinking of it the way I do my family's money. It's an accident of birth, what we start with; what we do with it and how we act about it is up to us. And both of us got where we did, at Oxford, through merit. Nobody greased the way for us. We both competed for, and won, the scholarships and placements we're lucky enough to have, and nobody can take credit for it but us. Same goes for how we got here. Which is why," she grins as she looks over to Parvati, "I'm saying don't let your head be too turned by the first guy you meet. You got here because you've been a good friend, and we met each other because we both worked our little butts off in high school and ever since, we've been working that hard. This is just a dividend. And these guys you might be meeting - they're dividends too."
     "Actually," Gillian looks back to the menu, "I'm kind of wondering if the onslaught Mahasti warned me about is going to begin while we're out here. She said that there'll be tons of guys paid off in one form or another to try to distract and divert me from Balthazar. Do you see anything that looks good to you?"

     "On the menu or at the next table?" Parvati murmurs. Her sneaky brown eyes look this way and that way as she more or less reviews the menu. She smiles. "This is a wonderful menu. Steak. Lobster. I think I'm going to order the lobster." She looks at you, wincing. "Is that obnoxious?" She smiles then. "But it's what I want. I also think we should toast your future happiness," that doesn't mean what the next table will think it means, "...with a little vintage. To go with a lot of future happiness. I'm still trying to recover from that. It really is a very wealthy nation."
     Conversations do resume nearby, but there is a lot of energy given to the two newcomers. Who are they? How are they sitting at that table? But there are also those here who already know of you, Lady Gillian. One such is Stephen of Rose. He actually makes eye contact and holds it a moment, before looking back to his group.
     "I think that the onslaught will happen whenever it can. It will look for openings. Certainly, this is an opening. At least," she murmurs closely, as she points to random items on the menu, "...you will know who some of them are if this draws them out." She looks at you. "And I will keep my options open. You are right. You and I have worked too hard to do anything less than enjoy the success of our work. How was Balthazar about your proposal?"
     Of course, Balthazar and proposal being in the same sentence garners looks a-plenty. Curious, jealous and all shades in between.

     "Why would it be obnoxious?" Gillian looks bewildered at the notion. "I'm from New England, remember? Lobster's not exactly a tremendous luxury." She laughs. "We'll both get the lobster - oh, and for starter, the tomato salad, the one with the marinated mozarella. Diet be blown, I'll work it off tonight."
     She closes her menu and slides it away. "For me, I'm in the mood for something fruity to drink - let's get a pitcher of sangria, unless you're totally sold on the vintage. But for with the meal. For right now, I think I'd better have my trademark." She laughs again, quietly. "As a sort of announcement, you understand. A Lady 52."
     She tosses her head, letting her laughter be more audible. It is a challenge to all comers, if they have the wit to recognize it as such. "He likes the idea and he trusts my judgment. So I figure what we'll do is, in a couple of days we'll go over to the university and see what sort of program or programs they've got and if they'll work with us to construct one which will work to really give you the grounding you want and need. I've got to get mine set up too, so we can put it together with an eye towards what we'll both need to know, going forward. I should've brought my notebook! Oh well, I have the phone he gave me, I can use it to take notes."

     The server arrives with a smile. He is quiet and proficient. He pours water for you both. "Good afternoon, Lady Gillian, Miss," he says to Parvati. "Would either of you care for something from the bar?"
     "I am always self-conscious when I am not paying," Parvati says. "So...yes to all of that, lobster and sangria and the tomato salad...oh, hello," she beams to the water. He is dressed in black and white. For a moment she forgets she's not in London. "Actually we do, but we're having the same drink, and it's best if Lady Gillian explains what it is..."
     Intrigued, the waiter looks back to Lady Gillian. "Yes, my lady. Do you have a special order for the bar?"

     "You could say that," Gillian answers with a winsome smile. "We'd like to begin with cocktails - where I come from, it's called a Lady 52. If your bartender's not familiar with it, here's the recipe; he can rename it if he likes, I'd guess, but this is how it's made. It's one ounce coffee liqueur, a half ounce Cointreau, an ounce Irish cream, with an ounce of cream and topped off with chocolate, served in a pousse cafe glass. Pour the kahlua into the glass, and float irish cream over the top. Shake the cream with the cointreau, and float it over the irish cream. Sprinkle it with chocolate shavings - lots of chocolate shavings - and serve." She slides her menu towards the server, adding in a stage whisper, "It's something of my signature drink, you see."
     She grins with a certain feminine mischief that all West women are known to possess. "Oh! And we'd like to begin with the tomato caprice, each, and we'll each have the lobster to follow. When the main course arrives, we'd like a pitcher of sangria with it. Unless you'd recommend something else?" She grins over at Parvati, then back to the waiter. "Never let it be said that we wouldn't take an inside tip from a professional."

     Oh how this is noted: the drink's name, the ingredients, the fact that it is a signature drink for Lady Gillian and that a Lady so recently here could even have a drink!
     The waiter is oblivious to all but the women at his table -- his only station tonight -- and he jots down the ingredients and the process quickly, smiling. "Yes, ma'am. Lady 52. Do you wish this to be an exclusive cocktail, served only to you and those at your table, or would you care to make this a signature item in your honor for the bar?"
     This is what life is at the Royal Table...
     He also jots down the order. "Our sangria tonight is a winter blend: figs and cognac. It should pair with the lobster. However, because your starting cocktails are rich, and your meal is rich, I would suggest a lighter wine, a white with subtle undertones of pear. I think it will bring out the best in your meals. But I will, of course, bring out whatever you and your guests would like. Would you like to hold your meal for the arrival of any guests or proceed? The table is yours for the evening, so there really is no rush at all."
     Parvati smiles to him, "I think that wine sounds beautiful. Let's try that," she suggests to Lady Gillian. "I think the fig sangria, which I want to try... perhaps with dinner? Would be too much after the Lady 52s. I will defer to Lady Fi...Gillian on the timing," she says to him, taking the time to glance around casually as she sips her water from the crystal goblet.

     Gillian manages to only just barely slide a glance at Parvati. "Oh, by all means," she answers graciously, "have it a signature item. I'm not one to keep others from enjoying a pleasant afternoon, after all!" She laughs, then nods agreement. "The wine sounds lovely, we'll take your advice on the drinks. As for holding off - push it back hmm, maybe an hour? If no one's arrived by then, go ahead and prepare the lobster. Thank you."
     She picks up her water and takes a sip, settling back. To Parvati, Gillian murmurs sotto voce, "Now to see how long before people start finding excuses to drop by the table, or if they hold off in the hopes that he'll be joining us."

     "I will have it added to the lists," the waiter smiles. "And will enter your order in an hour. Your cocktails and salads will be here momentarily." He departs without checking on the nearby tables. Other waiters appear to do that.
     Parvati sips her water and smiles. "You are on the menu. For most people, that's the only famous that matters." When you say he, Parvati smiles. "I'm so glad you're back together. He is so lovely, in and out. And... so handsome. So ....fit. And now... big all over," she twinkles in her grin. "So on a scale of one to ten, how happy and excited are you? And I know you've," she leans in to mouth: kissed. "He has such a beautiful mouth. You really are the luckiest girl I know. But you also work so hard, so who can be upset or jealous? That's what's so brilliant about it all. And," she exhales, setting aside her menu for others who might join, "...I'm just so happy that you've allowed me to join in. I'm just... overwhelmed with the possibilities. It's going to take me a month just to quit pinching myself for a reality-check."
     Parvati leans in. "Nice phone. I need one of those." She goes sotto voce too: "I give it maybe five minutes. They won't want to look like circling buzzards."

     "Thank you," Gillian tells the waiter and turns to Parvati, laughing. "He is lovely. He's such a nice guy." She sighs a bit wistfully. "I'm over the moon for him," she admits. "I feel so stupid for having broken up with him back then - but then, I didn't know him like I do now. Heck, I didn't know myself like I do now. And at the time, we did look like we were going very different places."
     She grins and sips her water again. "I guess we weren't going such different places after all, so much as we were on different bus routes that stopped ultimately at the same station. It's a huge thing." And she isn't talking about her boyfriend's you-know-what. "It changes my world. And I don't mind one bit."
     She turns the phone on, checking for messages, then opens up a text client. "Okay, so I've put in the trip to the academy. Anything else you want to make notes about? Quick, before the vultures change their minds."
     There is a text that pops up: It was a lovely swim in very cold water. I am the cleanest man in the entire kingdom. Love you, gf. Gf... Gillyflower. Or girlfriend.

     Parvati smiles, leaning her head on the heel of her hand. "Well, he was smitten, clearly. And it's a lot to take in, especially when you were just starting at Oxford really. And all of that. I'm just glad things are going well. I really like him. He is nice. And I think you changed his life too. I think he'd be the first to say it. I'm just really happy for you both."
     She does, however, blush when you say it's a huge thing. "Apparently," she notes with a grin and a sip of water. "Oh look, cocktails and food," she sighs.
     The waiter carries a tray bearing the two rich drinks and the starting plates. The drinks look like very fine renditions of Lady 52. They smell right and look right; hopefully, they'll taste right. "The bartender was very excited to try something new. He thanks you, Lady Gillian. And it has now been added to the menu as Lady Gillian's Lady 52. And your salads," he says, setting down each plate in turn. "There are several types of local tomatoes grown. Everything we serve is locally produced on this island. With the exception of the wine. Some spirits are local but we do stock a number of Catalonian wines. It's almost impossible not to. Enjoy. Would you care for rustic bread and olive oil with balsamic vinegar?"
     Parvati lifts her drink for a sip. "That does sound good. We do have an hour, Gillian. What do you think?"

     Love you too. We're at Drusilla's Den if you have time and want to join us. Lobsters in 1 hr. Let me know & I'll order more. Gillian rapidly texts back, beaming. She is pink again; she turns to Parvati. "Thanks. I do hope you'll be as lucky - but you're stunning and brilliant, so I'm sure you will be. If you want to be. Not everyone does, after all."
     She turns to take the cocktail as it's set in front of her. "Well, thank him very kindly for me, please. They look lovely." She's still smiling. How can she not smile, at a time like this? "I think no bread for me, but don't let that stop you, Par. But go ahead and bring it out and our guests can have whatever we don't gluttonously munch on ourselves. I'm saving most of my appetite, though, for the lobster."

     I would love to. Order a lobster and steak for me as well. Medium rare. And whatever else you think I might like. I should be there in an hour easy, likely before. I'll let you know when I'm downstairs. Are you on three?
     Parvati looks to the waiter, "Just a bit of the rustic, please, yes. I'll need something on my stomach for this drink."
     "Certainly," he smiles and he again retreats.
     Parvati lifts the glass in toast: "To the original Lady 52, Lady Gillian. And to her love and happiness..."
     "I would like to second that, if I may," another voice (a male voice) chimes in. He looks to Parvati briefly and then to Lady Gillian. "That is, if you don't mind. My name is Prince Stephen of Rose. We passed one another briefly in the recent breakfast. It is good to finally see you out of the confines of a court event. I don't want to disturb you, but thought it best to give my greetings before others of your party arrived and made it far more inconvenient..."

     On 3! Being the cynosure of all eyes. She catches the waiter before he can finish his retreat. "Add to that order, the rustic bread, another lobster, a steak - medium rare - the sauteed mushrooms on the side, another tomato caprice to be brought out with the lobsters, and an order of the shrimp cocktail for the entire table to be brought out then as well." Gillian turns to Parvati and smiles as the waiter retreats. "Balthazar will be joining us, hopefully in under an hour."
     She lifts her glass in response to the toast, smiling, then turns to the newcomer, eyebrows slightly lifting. "How do you do, Prince Stephen?" she greets civilly. "No, of course I don't mind. I don't promise to be entirely convenient," she grins, "but I am certainly happy to make new friends, as is Lady Parvati, I'm sure." She discreetly elevates her best friend to the peerage. It's only a matter of time, after all. "You're welcome to join us, although this seat," she places a hand on the other seat against the wall, "is being held in reserve. How may we help you?"

     Stephen smiles. "I don't want to take up too much of your time. I mostly wanted to give you my congratulations. I understand that you have been accepted to the Academy. Oh," he smiles again, "...and of course on your courtship. You've made quite the splash. It has made court interesting again." He turns to look at Lady Parvati, offering his hand. "Lady Parvati, a pleasure. Welcome to the capitol. Perhaps just one drink," he says to Gillian and to Parvati. And he takes a seat next to Parvati after her hand is kissed.
     "A pleasure, Prince Stephen." Parvati replies, retracting her hand with a slight blush. "...Of Rose? Where is that in relation to where we are? And the cocktail is called Lady Gillian's Lady 52. Here, we will get you one." She raises her hand for the waiter.
     "Thank you," Stephen replies warmly to her. "And Rose is just southwest of Avalon. It borders Red Castle, Avalon and Camelot. It is a lovely place if I do say so myself. I know you are expecting His Majesty," he looks to Gillian as Parvati whispers the request for another cocktail, "... else I would invite you to join our gathering. Perhaps when His Majesty arrives, we will just join tables and take over the third floor entirely." He pauses to softly laugh, his bright blue eyes sparkling. "With his leave, of course. He might wish a more private dinner. I would if I were he."
     Parvati looks to him, smiling, and then to Gillian. "Well, we might not be able to join your party tonight, Prince, but perhaps we could offer each of your companions a cocktail on us."

     "Again?" Gillian is amused. "You make it sound as if court was so dull, before. And here I'd been hearing that a Lady Elaine was livening things up nicely." She sips her cocktail demurely, smiling. "I will certainly convey your suggestion to Balthazar when he arrives. It is kind of you to offer."
     Oh, she knows it's less kindness than good political sense - but she can play the game, too. She dispenses with her beloved's titles, sipping again - delicious, just the way she likes it. "Assuming, of course, that your companions like chocolate," she adds, still demure. "I realize that not everyone does. Thank you for your congratulations; I hadn't realized anyone had heard about my academic hopes." She chuckles. No, everyone would be mostly concentrated on the other coup. "Do you attend, your highness?"

     "Lady Elaine did a very fine job, yes. And still is... but of course, now that she's out of the Game, all eyes are turned to you. Well," he smirks, "... all eyes in court politics. I think all eyes of any man worth his salt were on Lady Elaine yesterday. Different eyes, different ... arena," he decides. "We've been rocked from our slumber by several new additions, actually. It's been quite invigorating. And you, Lady Parvati; do you have any surprises for the court?"
     Parvati blushes as she sips on her cocktail. Another arriving for Prince Stephen. "I'm sure I'll come up with something. It won't be dancing," she notes with humor.
     He takes a second look at her. Nice ...wit. But the woman of particular note is on her other side. His gaze always ends up back there. Stephen smiles prior to taking his first sip. "No, not at that academy. I recently graduated from the Academy of Letters and Literature with a writing masters. I am afraid I can't construct anything but a good story. The Academy of Sciences and Magic was not interested in my ability to conjure prose. Or in my mathematics," he chuckles. "And so... I try your drink and toast to your honor. I wish you happiness and success." He sips. "Hmm... orange and chocolate. Lovely." Another sip. "Quite good. Distinctive. I'm not surprised."
     A hand rests upon his shoulder briefly. A lovely woman, with chestnut hair and hazel eyes smiles to the ladies, begging their pardon, then look to Stephen. "Do not forget your supper, Prince Rose. It will get cold without you. Hello," she says to Lady Gillian and Parvati.
     "Ladies Gillian and Parvati," Stephen offers, "...this is Lady Branwen of Red Castle. Lady Branwen, this is Lady Gillian, who appears to be well on her way to becoming the Queen of Summer, and her friend, Lady Parvati."
     "A pleasure to meet you," she keeps her hand on the Prince's shoulder. "I'm sorry for interrupting."

     "I think that it depends on which Game you think people are playing, Prince Stephen," Gillian answers pleasantly, sipping her drink again. Light flashes off the golden ornaments. "Anyone who is too quick to discount Lady Elaine, solely because Balthazar has chosen to court me instead of her, is making a mistake. Although I grant you that she isn't really a political person, particularly." She smiles, relaxing in her seat while remaining at the same time upright. "We'll have to discuss letters some time, your highness."
     But not, apparently, tonight. She looks from the hand on his shoulder to its owner, smile unaltered and undimmed. "How do you do, Lady Branwen? It's no interruption at all. In fact, I am very glad to meet you both. I shall hope that you two will be among the first to accept invitation to the social event I am planning, although it won't be held for a few more weeks." Gillian grins, the West feminine mischief rising to the forefront again. "It's in bad taste to try to compete with a coronation, after all. But do say you'll come. Lady Parvati will be there with me, of course, as a dear friend and one of my closest confidantes." If that doesn't seal Parvati's popularity, nothing will.

     Stephen smiles. "Ah, the Game of Hearts and Diamonds, I think they call it," droll humor rolling over his words. "I typically call it Clubs and Spades. But yes, you are quite right. I certainly don't discount her. In fact, she's soon becoming the most eligible lady in court."
     Branwen gives him a look, to which Stephen laughs. "I said eligible. I'm not in the hunt." Her hand slides off his shoulder. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Oh, a gathering? I should love to. I haven't had the chance to really speak with you. We've always been about four places apart. Thank you for the invitation."
     "Absolutely," Stephen says, handing his cocktail to Branwen as he rises. "Count us in. I have interrupted you long enough." He pauses as Branwen returns to their table, rejoining their companions. "And perhaps over coffee we can discuss such letters," he includes Parvati in his looks. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Parvati. Lady Gillian, I hope we have a chance to speak again soon." Branwen be damned.
     He smiles as he departs, returning to his table. Parvati glances to you and smirks. "Possessive much? Did you see her hand?" she whispers. "She all but peed on him. She's worried about you. She should be worried about him."

     Gillian smiles pleasantly, bowing her head as the lady, and then the prince, depart. "She should be," she agrees sotto voce. "Seriously. Even if I were in the market to change, why would I change for him? Balthazar way outranks him. And I'm not sure he's seeking a wife as such, though. He strikes me as looking for information - but he's willing to get into bed if that's how he has to get it." She laughs. "A sacrifice he'll make for his country, by golly."
     She sinks back in her seat, smiling as she lifts her glass for a miniscule sip. "And I'd bet if 'Lady Elaine' indicated being open to it, he'd be after her like a shot. I'm betting he took a swing at it and struck out while she and Balthazar were still together. What's your take on it? And ooh, I just had a naughty thought."

     "After seeing what you saw today, I'm sure you've had several," Parvati says, giggling a little. She sips at her drink and eats the rustic bread, dipping it into the balsamic vinegar and olive oil mix. "And I think you're right. I think he'd even sleep with me if he thought there was a nugget of information available," she says, keeping her voice low as she snacks and sips. "Though, certainly, I'm no beauty compared to ... Lady Elaine..."
     Folding a leg over her other, Parvati holds her cocktail glass, sipping at it constantly. So good! "So what's your idea? And what's this gathering? Should I ask Gavin to attend with me? Is it a couples' thing?"

     "Not like that." Gillian blushes. "And you can ask Gavin to attend with you if you like. It's not strictly couples, but I'm going to have a beach party in a few weeks. Tents, food, music and generally a chance for people to get a look at me and make up their own minds instead of relying on gossip. As for my idea..."
     She peers at her phone intently and begins fiddling with it. "I'm wondering if, considering what this is, if I can't use my magic to make their silverware act as a transmitter so that you and I can listen in on their conversation without getting caught." She sneaks a sidelong look at Parvati. "What do you think? Shall I try it?"

     "You are a genius," Parvati whispers. "Oh, that does sound like fun," she says more aloud. "A beach party would be fantastic. And...Ba... I mean, His Majesty, is a good singer and guitarist. He can provide some entertainment, I'm sure."
     Parvati sips at her drink. "He might feel weird about attending as a guest when he works for you. But I'll think it over." Parvati smiles to you. "I think you should try. Talk about getting good gossip... how will you keep it from registering feedback or having them overhear it," she says quietly.

     She adjusts the phone very carefully, making sure that the volume isn't too loud. "Well, first of all," Gillian grins and takes out a set of earbuds. All phones these day double as mp3 players, after all. She puts one earbud into her ear, offering the other to Parvati. "The feedback's not too hard - it'll be like a radio. They're on the sending end, we're on the receiving end. If there is any feedback, we'll be on the receiving end, not them. At least, in theory. Here's hoping I do it right and we don't get caught."
     It's a risk, but it's a calculated risk. This is what got her into the academy, after all; the applied use of electrical currents combined with magic. She teases the volume just a little further down, wincing as she gets a crash of static through the earbud - thank goodness for the volume being low. Gradually she turns it up, concentrating on the phone until a gentle murmur of voices becomes gradually clearly audible through the earpiece.

     Parvati sips at her drink and leans in as if engaging in quiet conversation. They're allowed, right?
     From the table, there are murmurings and there is laughter. The restaurant is quickly filling up. At the large table, there are eight people gathered; Branwen and Stephen are two of the eight...
     "... for the Coronation. From what my mother told me, there will be formal and informal events all day and then the coronation will be at sunset..."
     "Sunset? That's inauspicious... shouldn't the sun rise with a new king and not set?"
     "It's at sunrise the next morning." That's Branwen. "I have it on the best authority. I attended a breakfast with Maria. As the future queen, surely she knows..."
     "There is plenty of intrigue and no shortage of gossip." Stephen. "I wasn't expecting quite so much...narrative heading into the event, particularly with Princess Tanira's announcement and then the switching of gears regarding Prince Balthazar's availability. Or in this case, unavailability..."
     "Though I hardly believe that is a done deal," another female voice. "We know very little of this Lady Gillian. Her acceptance to the academy, yes. But there are now... four? Four strangers to court with extremely favored positions. All of them outsiders. Forget a sunset crowning; that is more inauspicious. A prince... no, a king, off the market before entreaties from allied kingdoms can be entertained? And just who are they? And what of Lady Elaine. There is more to this than coincidence..."
     Stephen laughs. "Penelope... were you not you, one might think you a pessimist..."
     "Fine, doubt me. You did with Elaine. And I still say they were courting prior to Lady Gillian's arrival. They looked awfully close..."
     "So how many lords do you think will try to ... persuade Lady Gillian otherwise, for the benefit of their own crowns, let alone sisters?"
     "I think," Stephen again, "... only the desperate. It's extremely tricky. If not handled correctly, you alienate the High Crown and the Sun King. Their bond is cemented. There's no crack in that foundation. Which, of course, is good. Do not mistake me. I think the only ones who will try will be on the level of Dale. Ymrys in particular. After Sabira and his pummeling by Arian, he needs to make a large move. And while risky, he has little to lose. He's already had a broken nose. And if he's further disgraced in the attempt, he hasn't lost much more than he's already suffered. I think that makes him a prime candidate..."

     Gillian turns the volume down further - up enough that she and Parvati can hear if something truly interesting comes up, but down enough that they can quietly converse. "Very interesting. So I should be keeping my eyes on this Ymrys Dale person? And apparently P- Arian beat him up. I'll have to ask him about that. Ooh, I know what I should do!" She briefly disrupts her spell, long enough to send a text message to her brother telling him to get his butt over to Drusilla's for dinner.
     It's a brief pause; then a text message comes back. I'm not going to get any peace until I agree, am I. OK. Might bring company might not. 20 min.
     "Good," Gillian murmurs with satisfaction. "That should stir the room up a bit. And it might make this Dale person think twice, if he's had his nose broken by my baby brother. Not that anyone knows that," she warns Parvati. "Anyway, what do you think of all this?" Quickly, she turns the volume back up a little.
     "Arian?" She smiles. "It will be good to see him." She smiles and sips at her cocktail, leaning in to speak quietly. "I think it makes sense, what Stephen is saying. He seems to be a casual observer, not really involved or doesn't seem to have a stake in it. But he's quite sharp. And Penelope sounds as though she could use a stiff drink."
     The waiter for that table is seen bringing over several Lady 52s. Apparently the drink is popular...
     Your waiter comes by, but does not interrupt. He refills your goblets of water.
     "Wonderful drink. Lady Gillian's creation? Penelope, you should really try it. You know, we should invite her to attend the fashion show day after tomorrow and get to know her. The time is now for proper positioning. If she is to marry Balthazar and become the Sun Queen, she will need a court of her own. And to get in on the ground floor, from the beginning..."
     "I get sunburned easily," Penelope. "But I think a woman who is able to get into the Academy of Sciences would prefer the evening gaming session more than the fashion show, Ione. I think we should invite her to tomorrow night's gathering. I think you don't really know a person until you see how they play poker and bridge..."
     Branwen laughs. "Well, I suppose it will test her mettle. Sure. She seems lovely, actually. Smart. She's quite pretty. And her friend seems nice. Also pretty. I think Ione is correct. We need to get to know her. And introduce ourselves to her..."
     "And... of course... should things not work out with her and Balthazar..." There are several girls who giggle about that. There are several talking at once so it is hard to parse out. But words such as getting and position manage to come through.
     Another text message appears: I'm on my way. I should be there in fifteen or less. B.

     Gillian gives Parvati an amused look. "Girls are such cats, aren't they? I will give prep school this much, it definitely did prepare me for this. Not now but after the first occasion they do invite us to, the knives will come out. We'll have to be back here and with this." She pats her phone. "Oh, goody, Balthazar'll be here in fifteen minutes. Arian'll only just beat him."
     Indeed, up the stairs comes a slim silver figure, dressed in indigo and white silks and velvets. Platinum hoops decorate his earlobes, dangling with ruby charms that catch the light and toss it back as if glowing from within. His hair is clipped short, still, in the wake of his visit to his family; but the dye's all washed out now, and the eyes which regard the restaurant's interior with such seemingly jaded indifference are silver, unlike his sister's stormy grey irises.
     He does not carry a sword today, and the snug white fabrics with their indigo trim leave no doubt that he is not carrying any other weapons, either. He isn't excited enough for comparisons to the Sun King, thankfully. He looks around, shading his eyes with an ungloved hand, then exchanges a few words with the hostess on duty before approaching the royal table, bowing slightly to Gillian and Parvati. With deadpan aplomb and considerable panache, he greets them. "Lady Gillian; Lady Parvati. How pleasant to see you. I trust that you've been well?" He is slightly scented of cinnabar and something salty and ethereal; sea spray with an undercurrent of heliotrope and leather, somehow.
     Gillian looks as if she wants to smack her little brother for a moment; she reins the impulse in. "Lord Arian. So good of you to join us. His majesty will be joining us shortly. Please, do sit. Would you care for a drink? Oh, and do listen to this song, will you?" She leans over as he sits, sharing her earbud with him carefully.

Posted by rowan at March 08, 2010 12:40 PM