PostDinnerWrapUp

From IMiA

Juliana slumps down in front of the low fire in the library after the party. She's quite tired, but pleased.

"Nothing exploded. No one died. No ghosts appeared. The royals were all polite to one another. Cheryl tells me we're golden. I think it went well, don't you?" She asks, and sips water.

Patrice is already sitting on the couch, barefoot. Her toenails are painted the same color as her dress; they peek out from under her voluminous skirt. Her shoes are sitting under a nearby table.

"It went remarkably well all the way around," she opines. "My dance card for the Carnival ball is half-full already, all the introductions I needed to make went well, and assorted annoying royals were only mildly annoying."

Phillip is standing by a bookcase with a drink in his hand. "We were lucky," Phillip states. He sips his drink, then asks, 'Did either of you notice anything unusual?"

"Beside everyone behaving? No." Juliana turns to look at Phillip, because now she knows she missed something.

"I don't have enough data about how Juliana's parties usually go, big brother." Patrice looks up at Phillip. "Eric pushed me in the general direction of one of his Weir bodyguards. We have an appointment to spar. I evaluated it primarily from a personal context, but there are political implications, of course. How often does the Duke of Karm attend one of these occasions?"

"I don't have enough data on parties in Amber to answer that one," Juliana smiles. "It was an interesting mix, wasn't it? I was thrilled."

"No coversations of intërest overheard?"

"I was too busy having interesting conversations for others to overhear, darling. What did you hear?" Juliana wants to know.

"Rather a lot." Phillip sips his drink. "Neither of you noticed anyone hitting it off? Or anyone avoiding one another? Or the factions forming around the Royal Family? No one asked seemingly innocent questions that were anything but?"

"Very little that I couldn't have predicted in advance. When I introduced the Frewins to Florimel--and that went very well--Karm was there. We had a little private chat, and as you can imagine, everyone in the room found an excuse to come by for an eyeful. Unfortunately for them, we discussed personal matters, as old friends do. After that, unsurprisingly, every other royal in attendance found an excuse to say hello to me. They're all wondering if the old alliance still holds: how much of Karm's ear I still have, and where my own loyalties lie. And whether they're up for grabs. So that was the biggest thing I observed this evening."

Patrice nibbles on a hangnail for a moment before adding, "Small things: Eric and his weir, the pirate captain Hobart needs keeping an eye on, as, of course, does Oisenmouth, and Lylias Frewin eyeing Karm in a way I didn't like. I think I sabotaged that last pretty thoroughly. Oh, and I'm planning a tea for Phoebe Frewin and Evelyn Devereux. If you want any more, you'll need to lubricate my memory."

"Who is Rhys?" Juliana asks, seemingly out of nowhere. "Did either of you know anyone by that name? Brand says he died in the war."

Phillip frowns. "What were the circumstances of the Prince's question?"

"Do you really think the circumstances are related to the question? He was playing the heartbroken lover searching for his friend's art, a reminder of a dead love," Juliana says, and adds less sardonically, "He may even have been telling the truth about that."

Patrice snorts.

"Where Prince Brand is concerned, the circumstances are always related to the question," Phillip replies."The difficulty lies in determining if he manipulated the circumstances solely to ask the question."

"Or perhaps he manipulated the question to distract me from thinking about the circumstances. We were in the stables to look at Gavin's 'Angels At Play'. We were talking art, or beauty. He said he was hoping to see something by this Rhys person. I pestered him, as I'm sure he wanted. He demured and played coy and eventually played his card. You might want to warn your mother to clean out the attics of things she doesn't want found, even if you won't tell me who he is, because I offered to take Brand out for a 'hunt'." Juliana is clearly annoyed her question has not been answered yet.

Perhaps deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, Patrice rises from the couch and goes to the sideboard to find her own drink. That this move takes her out of the line of fire between Juliana and Phillip is not coincidental.

"I am not certain that my mother has access to any of Rhys' art," Phillip says.

"She doesn't," Patrice, who has just completed an audit of the Carlisle estate's valuables in the last couple of years, says firmly.

Phillip finishes his drink.

Patrice is at his side with another one.

An odd expression plays across his features. Concern, perhaps. Or melancholy. "Rhys is a name I haven't heard in a long time. A long time. He was a companion long ago. A good friend. But Rhys has not been seen nor heard from in ages. Most people think him dead. I am more than a little troubled that Prince Brand is asking about Rhys now."

Patrice's expression mirrors Phillip's. "I don't like it either. And it's rather odd that Brand would ask you, Juliana, since you wouldn't have known him."

"It was obvious to me he didn't intend the two of you to know, and I didn't give the impression I'd tell you. I gave the impression I'd use it as an opportunity to have my own private little adventure with Brand. I offered to bring him to you, Patrice, and he demured."

Patrice's frown betrays her kinship to her brother. She goes back over to the sideboard to fix herself a drink.

"He could have been testing anything. How much I know of Carlisle history and friends of the family. I thought perhaps it was some subtle poke at one of you - or something to hold over your mother, Phillip. There's never any telling. But there is always the possibility it was done to distract me from wondering why a prince would go climbing around in the stables to see art by an artist who doesn't present, doesn't sell, and isn't heard of, besides my offering to show it to him." Juliana goes on, doing what she does when she's thinking out loud. "I wonder if he knows Gavin. I wonder if Gavin has even been in the City since our wedding, although certainly he's up to something now. Perhaps what Gavin is up to has something to do with Brand."

Juliana bites her lower lip and stops, thinking.

Phillip sips his drink. "I do not care for any of the possibilities that present themselves." He pauses, ponders. "One more question: What led up to Brand's examination of the painting in the stables?"

Juliana thinks on it a moment. Deep thought. Then, "I was thanking him for coming and inviting him to the Southside Party. He'd be looking at the oil of your grandfather. I asked him what he thought."

"'It adequately captures him,' he told me, and he smiled. He noted I share an appreciation of art with the Pinegars - I told him I just liked pretty things. Then I mentioned Gavin, and that I do have a certain appreciation for what artists need." Juliana's smile indicates she didn't say that in all innocence.

Patrice is putting away the decanter, so her expression is concealed.

"We talked about how your mother hoards the best pieces at the Estate, and then he asked me if I had anything Gavin had done. Which is what lead to me offering to show him the piece in the stables." She shrugs. "I was gambling darling. I still am - I do intend to take him out there after Carnival."

Phillip frowns and paces a bit. "I wish I knew what Prince Brand is playing at. Nothing is ever quite what it appears when the Royals are involved. Best we all be cautious."

Patrice sits down on a chair that conveniently keeps her from being between the married couple. "I'm always cautious, Phillip. I'm so cautious that I need to put my mourning back on and call myself 'the Crone of Ill Omen'. Don't worry about me."

"I always worry," Phillip replies. "It keeps us all alive."

Juliana drags herself out of the chair and goes over to Phillip to wrap her arms around him. "I know. But it's difficult to be careful when information is so lacking. Who is Rhys that Brand is asking after him, Phil?"

'I don't know why Brand is interested," Phillip says. "But I know that Brand expected that you would either ask us about him or that you would investigate the matter yourself. What you do not know, he can not pry out of you. Its not a matter of not trusting that you wouldn't tell him. With Brand, you'd never even know you'd done it." Phillip shakes his head.

"There are many rumors about Rhys. I am uncertain that knowing them serves anyone. I do not know the full truth about Rhys. That is a secret I am not privy to. Until tonight, no one speaks of Rhys. It's unlikely that Rhys will ever be seen again. We should all let Rhys be. We would not want to draw Brand's continued attention. That would prove dangerous for all of us."

"I don't have any intention of hunting him down. The last I saw of him was before you married Juliana, Phillip. If you haven't seen him since then, I doubt anyone in Amber has." Patrice's tone is firm, decisive.

Juliana squeezes Phillip and lets go, sighing. "Well, I think we should warn your mother anyway. Who knows what else she might want to hide. Or perhaps she has some mis-information she'd like to leave laying around."

"It is always good to have warning before a Royal visits," Phillip agrees. He looks Juliana in the eyes. "If you must deal further with Prince Brand, be careful."

A second of annoyance and anger flashes across Juliana's face, but just as quickly she seems to soften. "I will be, as careful as I can be, blinded as I am," she says quietly, and pulls away.

Phillip looks as if he is about to say something, but chooses not to.

"Speaking of my recklessness," Juliana says, "I'd like to buy two horses from San O'Ceal and let little Varien come out to train the girls [referring to Aunt Dances daughters, the youngest of which is 18 and the rest well over that age] and I in how to deal with the 'special' beasts. After Carnival, sometime. What say you?" She seems to be asking the room at large.

"Varien is a liar, a thief, and a cad," Phillip states. "I am unconvinced he can be trusted." He finishes his drink. "That said, the horses are excellent. Purchase them if you wish, but remember who you are dealing with."

Patrice, who has been nursing her drink while Phillip and Juliana argue, puts it down on a side table and comes to her feet. "I think if we've passed from a post-mortem of the evening's events and into domestic planning, it may be time for me to retire--unless there's something more you need from me, Phillip." Her gaze meets his, but there's a question in her eyes.

Phillip considers his empty drink. "It is late," Phillip replies at last. "I think we are done for tonight."

"Not before I thank you both. Patrice, thank you. I should have asked you to come sooner. You help so much. You've been... the soothing presense for people. I know I'm not that, and I suspect some of our guests only decided to come when they found out you'd be here, so thank you." Juliana smiles, really smiles at Patrice, and looks a little bit exausted and like she's about to cry. Then she turns that look on Phillip. "And you are the most generous man I've ever met, darling. I do appreciate it, I do."

Patrice comes to Juliana for an embrace. "I'm glad I could help you, Juliana. I think you overrate my attractions and underrate your own, but it was my pleasure to do what I could to make this event a success."

"Well, excellent. Now we just have to get through the Southside Party. Oh, and I managed to convince Lady Frewin to let Phoebe go to the Circus with us. After which we'll be making a little stop for myself and my messenger lad to drop something off on Hobart's vessel. I understand there may be some play time on board, should anyone want it." Juliana smiles the smile of a plotter.

"You are tired, dear. You told me that at dinner." Patrice pats Juliana on the shoulder. "It promises to be an exciting trip and I'm looking forward to it."

Then Patrice turns to Phillip. "You've had a long day, both of you. My prescription is directly to bed, without chatter, and you'll both be asleep as soon as the candles are out." She smiles at her brother hopefully.

"You are probably right," Phillip says and kisses Patrice on the cheek.

"Then good night all, and I shall see you in the morning," Patrice says.

-- Main.LizTrumitch - 09 Apr 2005