The restaurant is quieter than it has been in days, what with the competitions finally over; there's a sense that the city's now resting up for the coronation. It has not stopped a cluster of young sprigs of the nobility from gathering; why not? Where there is good food, and good wine, and good conversation...
     Well, the conversation might not be good, but it's of the sort where good wine makes it flow all the faster...
     Lys has drifted in a little bit early, in a loose white gown with snug lace cuffs at the wrists, a dark brown cloak hanging from her shoulders. Her blue eyes are framed by kohl, and her dark hair is elegantly curled and coiffed atop her head, where the onset of winter can do little to outright disturb it. She smiles slightly as she takes a seat, lifting her menu to peruse it. "I think," she says aloud, "the terrine of autumn vegetables - and a cup of the soup." The soup is a bouillabaisse, spicy stock enriched with a dram of cognac and swimming with tiny shrimps, mussels, and flakes of eel meat. She smiles again and sets the menu aside. "And the house red with that. Thank you. Yes, bread and butter on the side." She isn't worried about her weight, not being American - but she doesn't say that out loud.

     "... Don't you think you're blowing this a bit out of proportion?" Stephen, Prince of Rose, saunters in behind a double-time marching Evelyn.
     Evelyn is dressed in sea green -- befitting her mood, not incidentally. "I think it is perfectly within proportion, Stephen. And I do wish you wouldn't be so ... glib..."
     "Glib." Smirking, Stephen pauses at the bar as Evelyn heads without him to the table. "I will have two glib martinis," he says to the bartender. "Hmm... in fact, make one of those Lady 52 concoctions. I'm in a mood."
     "Yes, your highness..."
     "I'm not being glib... hello, Lys, you're looking lovely," Stephen says in gliding tones not missing a beat, "I am being realistic. That they are related to Lancelot and now are titled doesn't at all change the fact that you hadn't the slightest chance to wrest Balthazar away from her. And the fact that she is sister to Arian of Tempest and Lady Elaine doesn't make it any more impossible that it was already. Now, my dear, I know this may come as a surprise," Stephen dryly announces as he takes a seat, "...but Balthazar doesn't love you. And he isn't interested in changing that. Lys," he turns and smiles to her. "Please do join us. I would like to hear your point-of-view. I'm sure you've had a closer seat to the action than either of us...may I buy you a drink?"

     "Dare I ask as to proportion? Thank you, your highness." Lys gives Stephen a small smile. She is rather fond of him, although she'd never tell him that to his face; his ego needs no assistance. She slides up her eyebrows, but does move to join them. The waiters can figure it out. "Hello, Evelyn, what's the fuss? - Ah; you've heard the news."
     She looks unsurprised as someone who was there for the big reveal only can. "I've already ordered, but if you insist, I'll join you in one of those that you mention. I take it that the hand of Prince Balthazar is still being disputed? Or merely his heart?"

     "The plans of mice and Evelyns," Stephen notes dryly again, which garners him a laser-look from Evelyn.
     With a tilt of her chin, Evelyn ignores him. That's all one might do with Stephens. "We're learning all manners of things about these newcomers. As if being the heirs of Benoic and Carbonek are more worthy than what I or even Branwen of Red Castle, your dearest..."
     "She's not my dear anything," Stephen notes. And the drinks arrive: there is a Lady 52, which he slides over to Evelyn, and a dry martini for himself. "Have a drink, Eve. So," he smiles to Lys, "I know what I think of it. And what Evelyn thinks of it. What's your opinion? Two members -- the highest ranking members -- of the High Crown taken with two members of the same family, all the way back to Lancelot. I'm sure there's whispers a-plenty from the Avalon quarters. And... I'm not sure the hand or the heart of Balthazar is what most are after." He grins as he sips his martini. "Including Captain Osiris."

     "Thank you," Lys murmurs, accepting the drink. She smiles at Stephen. "I do think that you would be hard-pressed to have a dear anyone; so few ladies realize that your worth to yourself far outstrips anything they could assign to you." Her tone is teasing rather than arch, and she leans back with a slight shrug.
     "There are whispers, certainly. But let's face it, any news causes whispers. Let us examine the facts: there are three of them, they seem related, one of them was involved with Prince Balthazar but now isn't, although she retains the royal family's favor; the other sister is now involved but wasn't, and he seems quite intent on being with her, to the point that pushing him could, I suspect, lead to an elopement. And the third is close to our High King-to-be. If it is a plot, it is amazing that it worked; the royal family is hardly populated by fools. I think the most probable cause-and-effect is that one of the royal family met one of them, and through that connection, the rest happened. A plot of that sort seems to me too hard to pull off - unless you think," she looks to Evelyn with gentle inquiry, "that the royal family did not know of the relationship between them? I rather assumed that they must have, and it's the rest of us who didn't; if they didn't, then the Holly King must be sleeping."

     Mouth puckering, Stephen sits back. "Touche, Lys. A touch to the quick. Perhaps you could reform me of my egotism." Without a doubt, he gives as good as he gets.
     Evelyn simmers. She is past hearing reason. But as her fingernail tap against the glass of the delicious drink inspired by one of the newcomers in question -- quite unbeknownst to her or she'd throw it at Stephen -- the logic of it cannot escape her. She tips her chin in stubborn defiance. "Love is blind," she declares. "It is possible that temporary blindness caused them to be oblivious to such double dealings. But in any case, even if they did know all along, they are still hardly of the class..."
     Stephen rolls his head to look at Evelyn. "Evelyn, the combined courts of Avalon, Camelot, Benoic and Carbonek are three times the size of your own duchy. And.. it is a duchy. So if we are going to discuss class, let us be reminded of where we, and by that I mean you, stand. Now, drink and relax..."
     The click-click-clicking of heels races in, slowing only as she approaches the table. Branwen passes by Stephen with a haughty look. "I'm still not speaking with you..."
     To which Stephen shrugs, turning his attention to Lys. "Do you have a partner for the dance tomorrow?"
     Branwen cozies up to Evelyn. "You've heard by now, I'm sure. But... it just occurred to me. You could set the sisters against one another... I mean, really, who dates sisters? And with that wedge in place, manage to free him..."
     Evelyn considers that. "I could... but it can't seem to be coming from me. We will need someone even more naive than you," she remarks, sipping at the drink. It is good...

     "Ah, but if I were to reform you, there would be less of you left for the rest," Lys retorts sweetly, "and that could hardly be allowed. No, no, my dear Prince, I fear I cannot see myself marrying up any time soon, not even in your illustrious direction." She turns to Evelyn and asks with blithe innocence, "Oh? Is the Holly King in love with one of them, then?"
     She smiles at Branwen as she arrives. "Hello, Branwen." She arches her eyebrows gently at the both of them. "And how would you go about setting them against one another?" she inquires. "Do you know them well enough to know their, ah, buttons?"
     With a small shrug, she turns to Stephen. "Not yet, no; I haven't decided if I am going, although I may as well. It promises to be quite the dramatic show, at the rate that things are going. I did hear that Lady Elaine will be performing for the High King's court at the royal supper."

     "I definitely don't want to miss that," Stephen notes. "Well, if you decide for certain that you'd like to go, I'd like you to be a special guest of Rose," he smiles to her. "Your unwillingness not to reform me notwithstanding. And one could hardly blame you. I'm definitely a project." He chuckles at that, sitting back with his drink.
     "She hasn't the slightest idea," Evelyn says before Branwen can get a word in edgewise. "You've barely even met one of them. And the obvious avenue, mixed up love-letters or the like won't work. Leave this to professionals, Branwen, I implore you..."
     Insulted, Branwen turns. She still doesn't dignify Stephen with a glance, turning instead to sweetly smile to Lys. "It was only a joke. As you said, the Sun King would sooner elope than turn his attention to anyone else. It is clear," she says in goading tones, "...that he only has eyes for Lady... oh, pardon me, Princess Gillian. Hmm... a princess...well, we all had to know he wouldn't go for anything less."
     Evelyn frowns but bites her tongue.
     Meanwhile, Penelope is seen to wander in. She hasn't seen the usual crowd. It's just as well since she dislikes most of them.
     "You still haven't shared your opinions," Stephen pipes up to Lys with a smile.

     She smiles again at Stephen. "Ah! The rake's invitation. How can I possibly refuse? Since you so kindly invite me..." She turns then to the girls, listening to the back-and-forth. She fails utterly to rise to the bait. "If they are royalty instead of nobility, then they are more fortunate than I, after all," Lys answers with a small shrug. "It seems that they have blood, and wealth, and education, and talent. Even if one were to dislike them, it is hard to deny that they are attractive, at least to some tastes, and with the vast array of resources at their disposal, they are fortunate indeed. I am more envious of them for that than for their place in our Princes' hearts. As fond of Prince Balthazar as I am, I must confess that I think he would make an uncomfortable sort of husband."
     She lifts her drink for a dainty little sip, then looks up and smiles, waving to Penelope. She looks to Branwen again. "I can attest that the Lady of the Lake acknowledged them as being the blood of Benoic and of Carbonek. If you think that she lied, I would be curious to know as to on what grounds she would do so. I suppose it is not impossible," she shrugs gently, "but it seems to me very improbable. I could, however, see why one might dislike her, be she Lady Gillian or Princess Gillian. She is very smart, and clearly feels the need to prove it ... repeatedly. And, well ... people do get hurt, that way."
     She turns back to Stephen, smile seeming placid. "I am cautious with my opinions. It seems so often that opinions are taken out of context. But is that voiced enough? What are your opinions, Stephen, now that I have shared some of mine?"

     Stephen of Rose laughs -- and colors slightly. "Uncomfortable... indeed. But there are some pains for which many would gladly sacrifice comfort. And do not refuse, Lady Lys, even though perhaps you should. I shall, for you, be a perfect gentleman..."
     "You could never be confused with a gentleman," Penelope grouses, plopping down on the other side of Lys. She smiles (she knows how!) to Lys. "Hello, Lys. I bet you've had quite the exciting day. And I'm sure everyone's going to want to make you their new best friend after this morning's shocking revelation." Which means, for her, it wasn't shocking at all. Sometimes it pays to be paranoid.
     Stephen puckers his mouth for a kiss to Penelope. "Always such the ray of sunshine..."
     "Get stuffed..."
     Stephen only chuckles. He does have someone in mind to perform those honors...
     Branwen looks offended and slighted. She goes red in the face. "Of course I'm not saying that the Lady of the Lake is a liar, Lys. I respect her very much..."
     Evelyn sighs loudly. "Do shut up, Branwen. You are from Red Castle, the territory of the former King Davydd I. The current King's grandfather. You haven't a chance in hell of making any ripples. Let's just leave it be..."
     Branwen "Ohs!" and rises from the table, heading out. Penelope rolls her eyes. "I'm just glad all of this wedding nonsense is over and done. Everyone needs a new pair of panties and needs to get over themselves. Truly."
     Stephen chuckles, finishing his drink. "You seem the least surprised of any I've seen so far..."
     "Well, so what's shocking? What's so surprising? I told you it couldn't be coincidence. Three newcomers to court, all happening at the same time, and no one thought there would be a connection? It was bound to happen sooner or later. Personally, it sort of ... makes me respect them. Grudgingly. And Lady Gillian's a real pip. Takes no prisoners." She pauses. "I could like her."
     Evelyn daintily sips at her Lady 52. "The role of Sun Queen has been filled. But that still leaves plenty of room for First Mistress. The Mistress of the King of Dale has her very own castle..."

     "Oh, probably not best friend," Lys demurs to Penelope with a smile. "After all, my knowledge of the ways of Avalon, and my presence in the Lady of the Lake's court, does not mean I have influence to bring an end to proposed matches. That would be quite overstepping my place, I fear - although I admit to wondering why anyone would want to, if they weren't the first choice, anyway? There are far too many people at court who would hold that over their heads forever."
     She gives Stephen a look askance; her mention of 'discomfort' was quite innocent, it seems. But she shrugs lightly and looks to Branwen's departure instead. She asks Stephen, "I take it there's some history there?"
     She grins at Penelope. "I think I prefer Lady Elaine," Lys says thoughtfully. "I don't think I'd be quite quick to trust any of them; oddly, so far, Lord - well, Prince - Arian has seemed fairly straightforward. A little bit frightening, but if he is of Lancelot's blood, well..." Lys smiles and looks to Evelyn. "You must not know Prince Balthazar well," she says mildly. "The idea of him taking a mistress seems - alien. You would have better luck with trying for Prince Arian, I suspect - or, of course, trying to become a confidante of the future Sun Queen, or even her sister."

     "I simply do not buy that any man is that pure of purpose..."
     "Just because you haven't personally met a unicorn," Stephen rolls out to Evelyn, "...doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. I don't know why you're so set in that direction. The golden ship has sailed. There are plenty of ships left in harbor. I'm still available..."
     Penelope guffaws. "That is the problem with you, Rose, you are always available..."
     Stephen grins. "Too true. Still, ladies, turn your gazing elsewhere. The Sun King is as good as betrothed -- long live the king. Why not try to find position in places other than his bed? Find what influence you can and... move on."
     "I don't like losing," Evelyn tartly responds. "Especially to court newborns."
     "You're not losing," Stephen insists. "You are simply refusing to win. I never knew you were this donkey-headed," he says in sudden amazement to Evelyn. "I always took you for being smarter, Evelyn. Really. Have another drink."
     Penelope sips her honeybeer as she smirks. She looks to Lys. "Who? Branwen? She just wants to be the special cherry on top of the cake. She'll be fine by morning. And you're quite right. I don't know what all the fuss is about. He's handsome, of course. Powerful. And I've heard the same rumors that Stephen has..."
     "Those aren't rumors," he chuckles, "...that's a fact. I've witnessed it..."
     "But why announce to the world that one is bitter over not being chosen, thereby forever branding oneself as a victim? Choose another path. And he's not the unicorn in court. That's King Eavan. But Evelyn," she says coolly, "if you still wish to announce yourself to the world as the Jilted One Plus -- Jilted One was Imogen -- then I suggest you throw yourself on Balthazar on the eve of his brother's coronation. He, too, will be performing."
     Stephen settles back, looking to Lys. "Are you planning on going to the beach party in a few weeks. I'm thinking it's going to be a bit chilly. Unless... it will be held in other seas than these." He pauses, leaning in with a grin. "You should really let me court you, Lys. I could keep you in style. Besides which, it will displease her Ladyship, so it comes with built-in entertainment..."

     "Penelope's correct. Too available, and a girl begins to get suspicious as to what her charms are to you, exactly, Stephen," Lys points out with a small grin. "But as long as you are happy, I suppose."
     She turns to Evelyn. "If nothing else, look at what happened to Imogen. Certainly, a great deal of that was because of her mother, but if you toss yourself onto that particular pyre, it won't do you any favors." She nods again, this time to what Penelope says. "I would suggest, if you wish to make a powerful match, to stop pursuing Balthazar and instead curry favor with Princess Tanira. In the end, she will only marry one of her suitors, and they already are dropping like flies. If you want a king so badly, what about Catalonia?"
     Lys sips her drink, then sets it aside to make room for her lunch when it arrives. "Unicorn? Really? He must be finding very few ladies in whose laps to lay his head, then. And Stephen, I know you mean well," she smiles and tilts her head so that her curls dangle like grape clusters, "but I have my heart set on someone who sees me as something other than entertainment. Thus far, I'm unconvinced that you have a heart in there; you are pleasantly pragmatic, but I don't itch nearly as often as you scratch."

     "Doomed to be a bachelor forever," Stephen laments theatrically. He sighs thereafter; as if there were nothing he could do about it.
     "Fine. I admit defeat. Have it your way. And, Stephen, darling, you do know that when courting one woman you can't then be courting four or five others as well, just to ...hedge your bets." Evelyn rolls her eyes then turns her attention to the other girls. "I hear that Imogen is now being courted, actually. It seems as though Crown Prince Asad is really taken with her. I could capture Catalonia," she mulls. "It is a lovely kingdom. And I do like the Infanta. I have heard some rumors that King Eavan might receive an offer from the Court of Catalonia to put aside his pursuit of Princess Tanira in favor of the Infanta. It shan't work, of course. That would be a step down. But he might be arming himself for his own disappointment. I have been to Silverglen. It's ...lovely enough. But hardly the stuff of dreams. He's going to have difficulties finding a wife, I fear. Both he, and it, are not quite special enough with such other opportunities as Catalonia, Desert Jewel, even Elysia. I should think Stephen shall wed before Eavan does..."
     Stephen has nothing to say on that. He rather likes Eavan. Which is why he's mum. If she thinks him worth so little, he's spared her attention. He looks to Lys. "I don't know why I'm so suspicious," he grins. "Is it my fault I'm handsome and charming?"
     "It's your humility," Penelope dryly retorts. "You never speak of yourself. How's anyone to know you?"

     Lys smiles and slides her eyebrows up at Evelyn. "You think, then, that Princess Tanira will most certainly not choose King Eavan? I confess that I could not say for certain, of course; I am not one of the princess' intimates. I do not think she has any intimates."
     She turns to flutter her eyelashes at Stephen. "Your highness, you will no doubt settle down eventually - in five or ten years, when the syphilis has finally killed off your proclivities. Your difficulty will be in choosing between your heirs, won't it? I have met Prince Asad; her highness was kind enough to invite me along to the opera when she attended with him and his sister, Princess Azizam. I am sure that Imogen will make him a lovely wife."
     And that's enough said about that. "It is possible that King Eavan might receive an offer from Catalonia. It would not surprise me. As for Prince Prospero, I think that he will choose for himself, not with anyone else's eye, so if you wish to be chosen, Evelyn, you'd best begin pursuing him as soon as possible. The competition will be quite stiff. Catalonia is a ripe plum, and wealthy to boot. I don't know why you think that Silverglen is a lesser choice, unless... ah." Knowledge dawns in her blue eyes. "He slighted you, didn't he."
     She grins at Stephen. "You are suspicious because you do not love, Stephen, only lust. Don't you know that we women are susceptible most of all to the flattery of love?"

     With a roll of his eyes, Stephen pushes back from the table. "If I wanted abuse, I would have called home to mother. I'm late for my card game. Ladies," he says in round tones, paying for all of your drinks. "You too, Penelope..."
     Penelope sticks out her tongue at him as he heads off. "I think he actually likes you, Lys. Because you refuse to be charmed."
     Evelyn gathers her things. "I should be off as well. I better find Branwen. God, the bedclothes she must go through with all her weeping. Ladies," she says to you both.
     Penelope waits for her to leave then smirks. "Poor Catalonia. I should feel badly for Prince Prospero if I didn't know him better. As it is, I hope she does marry him. I hear he prefers the company of men. In fact, I've heard rumors that he's slept with someone fairly high up in the high crown. Perhaps as high as the king himself. I wondered why he was even pursuing Tanira. Seemed a bit... incestuous. But it was probably out of obligation. Speaking of obligations," Penelope notes, "... have you heard about Joanna? It seems she's betrothed. Though she won't say to whom. Only now she is in business for herself and doing quite well. It's earned her a bit of leeway with her father. But ... a mysterious benefactor of dubious origin, perhaps. She may well be engaged to a pirate."

     "I doubt he likes me like that. You did, after all, hear him just compare me to his mother," Lys points out, smiling. "You hope the Princess Tanira does marry someone who prefers men, Penelope?" She waggles fingertips at Evelyn, not particularly sorry to see her go. "Or did you mean Evelyn? I admit, it does seem almost to serve her right, but I'd prefer not to give her that much power, if only fiscal. If only because if she becomes a setter of trends, I'll be forced to wear pink all the time, and I look like the wrath of god in pink."
     She tastes her lunch and smiles. It is good, if perhaps not quite the level of 'good' one finds at the royal table. "Perhaps he is pursuing her out of the desire to regain lost love," Lys suggests. "There would be a similarity in the blood, surely. Or, if that rumor is true - perhaps out of revenge? Although if he was involved with the king, it is a bit surprising; I've never heard rumors of him sleeping around on his husband. Have you seen them since they began to youthen? They are very handsome. They say that the Queen will be returning to heaven, you know. Do you suppose the entire marriage will be dissolved? I am surprised Evelyn hasn't thought of that yet..."
     "Good for Joanna," Lys murmurs with a twinge of regretful envy. "If it is a pirate, she will be a nine days' wonder and everyone will invite her to their salons to pump her for information, and because she will have the whiff of scandal combined with money which makes for the most entertaining of social events. I congratulate her."

     "Oh, not Princess Tanira. I hold her in very high esteem. A woman of common sense. She has a brain and she uses it," Penelope says with a nod of approval. "No, I meant Evelyn. It would serve her right. Of course, I wouldn't wish that blight in a skirt on my worst enemy. She'd ruin a reputable country. Trouble is, I don't know of a country I hate enough to steer her towards." She smiles blithely to you.
     You're one of the few people who realizes she can smile...
     "Oh I don't know. It was a long time ago, according to what I've heard. As for Queen Zafirah, I've heard she's staying and I've heard she's leaving. I don't think anyone knows for sure. Now, if I were her, and I'm not, but I suspect she will wait until some time after the coronation, to ensure that everyone knows we haven't lost Heaven's favor. I think, in fact, it was one of the royal secretaries who was mentioning that. He suspects she'll be on at least for the first six months. Besides which, Prince Anierin is not yet of age. I can't imagine she would leave her child. She is stoic; she is not heartless. Have you seen him lately? He's shot up a foot in a week it seems like. And I haven't seen much of the King -- I've not been going to the parties. But I hear he was handsome in his youth. He was not bad in middle age, either."
     Penelope sips her beer. "Yes, well, I am happy for Joanna. But I don't envy her. I don't think there's any romance to it at all. I'd like a romance, eventually. I just don't know that there's a man man enough for me. And by god don't give Evelyn any ideas!"

     "Well, she likely won't end up a spinster," Lys answers philosophically. "Her family has enough money to pay someone off. But she does need to learn to curb her tongue so it doesn't show off her ungenerous heart to disadvantage in front of men who might otherwise be taken in by the freshness of youth. Or does she think that Stephen won't talk to the other men he knows?" She shakes her head. "And Branwen - I don't understand her curious fascination with Stephen, anyway."
     She sets her soup aside, having had enough. "I saw him the other night. It was a bit shocking - he could almost pass for his own son. But he is still the King, and even once he steps down, he'll be rich enough and powerful enough for any woman who isn't insane, so I wouldn't be surprised if Evelyn thinks of it after all. And thank goodness Prince Anierin isn't of age. Can you imagine how much worse this scrum would be if he were?"
     Lys laughs. "I know where you're coming from," she admits. "I am not holding out for a Balthazar, to be frank. But ... I would like a man who is a man, and not a little boy wanting a mother figure, or still trying to prove his member's as long as a lancing spear and just as sturdy. I don't want syphilis. As for Joanna - who knows? Some women don't want romance, I suppose. But what makes you think there isn't any involved?"

     "A lack of announcements. Joanna herself doesn't want to discuss it, beyond taking herself out of contention for any and all other comers. She won't even discuss how she came to own her own shop or have her own ships. She just acquired her second. She seems to be throwing herself into her work, which I admire, of course. But... not exactly the stuff of fairy tale romance."
     Penelope smirks as she sips at her beer. "And no I can't, and I don't want to think of it. It's bad enough around Balthazar. I will say I do admire him for not taking any of this too seriously. I'm not one for charm and disarm, such as Lady Elaine, but he and Lady Gillian seem to make a nice couple. Better suited. I'm thinking of seeing how the Kingdom of the Sun suits me. She seems pragmatic. I could serve a queen such as Gillian. As for Evelyn... she stupidly assumes that Prince Stephen is a given, being that their countries have always been allies. And Branwen is besotted with him. He is, smartly I think, waiting to see what develops. I think he may well have designs on Lady Elaine. He is acquainted with the Prince, I guess it is, Arian. Well," she sighs as she takes another swallow of her beer, "I suppose I'd better head back to the palace and take a bit of a nap before the court events. You know who you should give a chance? Maelgwn of Red Castle. He's a good sort. A nice man, since that's where you're aiming. And not so high as to give a nosebleed upon kissing him..."

     "I wish Joanna luck, then. And I suppose that we shall see. Lady Elaine and Prince Stephen?" Lys looks politely skeptical. "I think Stephen will be disappointed there, if he is hoping for an actual match. She doesn't seem to me the type. But perhaps I'm wrong; still, she did give up on Balthazar."
     She rises, sliding her chair back carefully. "I'll keep your recommendation in mind, although I never said I was looking for nice," she smiles. "Good luck at court tonight..."

     Penelope rolls her eyes. "Yeah... I'm so happy to be unattached. I will be holding up the wall. As usual."

Posted by rowan at April 10, 2010 09:15 PM