[Log] On Casks and Tact
(On the way to the big meeting called by Corwin, Erasmus exchanges words with the Lady Feldane.)
Erasmus stands off to the side, perhaps wisely to keep out of the flow of business in and out of the castle, and maybe to speak to the three other guards standing with them. The cluster is dressed in their more formal uniforms, though they seem devoid of weaponry. Erasmus, wearing only a rope to designate him as Commander, keeps a close eye on faces as they pass out of the castle.
Irene, dressed for a formal appearance at Court, steps carefully around the carters and barrels and hurrying men hauling large sacks. She is trailing a footman who is mercilessly abandoned to his fate, and thus several vintners back. She trails to a pause in front of Erasmus, and lifts her eyebrows in silent greeting.
[Irene]
Trim and composed, Irene has a carriage that lends her a polihed air and a certain formality. Her evening gown is crimson silk shantung, precisely cut to mark a trim waist and drop just so off her shoulders. Jet beading marks a neckline that dips just below her collarbones. Fine, dark hair has been elaborately twisted up with a stylized arrangement of garnets; an artfully curled strand marks the fine curve of her cheek and trails the pale column of her throat. Fine dark eyes have little enough emotion in them. Garnets glint at wrist and throat and ear, set in silver; the Feldane signet ring rests on her right hand and a plain band occupies her left.
Erasmus, stopping in mid-sentence, pauses as she does, a gaze sharpened by intense study of the faces moving past meeting her's. "Good day, Duchess Feldane," he greets formally, bowing. The other guards, older than the usual youthful face, also bow but say nothing.
Irene says, "Good day, Captain." Her mouth quirks to the side, and she steps lightly aside from a courier dashing out on an errand. "Did you find my cask, then?"
Erasmus' gaze loses none of the sharpness, though his manner is the height of polite. "If you mean the gifts to Prince Random, there were two. Yes, Duchess, they were sent to him straightaway."
Irene ahs soft. "Favour being too dear a price. I'm suspect His Highness will be content with them. Are you expecting all the nobility and royals through this door?"
Erasmus flickers something that could be a smile, if his whole face would just cooperate. "Only the ones inside the palace, Duchess," he quips calmly. "Are you looking for one in particular?"
Irene flicks her hand idly against her gown, tilting her head so that the torchlight catches in the garnets. "Perhaps the one that doesn't match the set, but acts the part."
"I'm afraid I can't help with that," Erasmus replies calmly, the look on his face one of ignorance of the meaning or... a poker face learned from Prince Random.
Irene's glance lifts to his, amused. "I appreciate tact. Or tack. The man who styles himself Cosimo Mandrake." She pauses, and says, rather straight in her tone, "The one who bows with one leg out to show off his calf."
Erasmus only reveals his expression as a poker face in the fact that it doesn't change at this talk of his cousin. The pause before he speaks seems to say what a frown might. "I see you admire tact from a distance, Duchess."
Irene, who is usually quite tactful, merely nods. "Deliberately, with a spyglass."
Erasmus chuckles shortly, and nods to the three guards, who salute and move off, heading out of the palace. "I'd have to assume deliberation in who you say it to as well. What do you want?"
Irene shakes her head, "A warning, is all." She purses her lips, looking way. "An impression is being made."
Random comes here from the direction of the Burgundy Solar - Royal Palace.
Random has arrived.
"Indeed it is," Erasmus murmurs. "And more can be manufactured. Impressions are as cheap as lives these days, Duchess. Amber cannot afford it, alas. Wouldn't you think?"
Vialle comes here from the direction of the Burgundy Solar - Royal Palace.
Vialle has arrived.
Erasmus stands off to the side of the flow of traffic, facing... or facing off with, the Duchess Feldane. They are speaking alone.
Irene's reply is dry, "The impression being made is a direct one. I've said my piece, Commander, and it's more assistance than I would otherwise trouble to give. But these are troubled times, and if we're all to dine together, it helps to use the same cutlery."
Erasmus straightens a bit, patting the spot at his hip that would normally bear the weight of a sword. "I never go into a meal without a good knife, Duchess," he says easily. "Perhaps when you tire of warnings, we can discuss solutions. Good day."
Irene smiles at Erasmus, wry. "It's not mine to solve. Good day, Commander." She walks off in the direction of most of the Court, it seems.
Erasmus stands off to the side, perhaps wisely to keep out of the flow of business in and out of the castle, and maybe to speak to the three other guards standing with them. The cluster is dressed in their more formal uniforms, though they seem devoid of weaponry. Erasmus, wearing only a rope to designate him as Commander, keeps a close eye on faces as they pass out of the castle.
Irene, dressed for a formal appearance at Court, steps carefully around the carters and barrels and hurrying men hauling large sacks. She is trailing a footman who is mercilessly abandoned to his fate, and thus several vintners back. She trails to a pause in front of Erasmus, and lifts her eyebrows in silent greeting.
[Irene]
Trim and composed, Irene has a carriage that lends her a polihed air and a certain formality. Her evening gown is crimson silk shantung, precisely cut to mark a trim waist and drop just so off her shoulders. Jet beading marks a neckline that dips just below her collarbones. Fine, dark hair has been elaborately twisted up with a stylized arrangement of garnets; an artfully curled strand marks the fine curve of her cheek and trails the pale column of her throat. Fine dark eyes have little enough emotion in them. Garnets glint at wrist and throat and ear, set in silver; the Feldane signet ring rests on her right hand and a plain band occupies her left.
Erasmus, stopping in mid-sentence, pauses as she does, a gaze sharpened by intense study of the faces moving past meeting her's. "Good day, Duchess Feldane," he greets formally, bowing. The other guards, older than the usual youthful face, also bow but say nothing.
Irene says, "Good day, Captain." Her mouth quirks to the side, and she steps lightly aside from a courier dashing out on an errand. "Did you find my cask, then?"
Erasmus' gaze loses none of the sharpness, though his manner is the height of polite. "If you mean the gifts to Prince Random, there were two. Yes, Duchess, they were sent to him straightaway."
Irene ahs soft. "Favour being too dear a price. I'm suspect His Highness will be content with them. Are you expecting all the nobility and royals through this door?"
Erasmus flickers something that could be a smile, if his whole face would just cooperate. "Only the ones inside the palace, Duchess," he quips calmly. "Are you looking for one in particular?"
Irene flicks her hand idly against her gown, tilting her head so that the torchlight catches in the garnets. "Perhaps the one that doesn't match the set, but acts the part."
"I'm afraid I can't help with that," Erasmus replies calmly, the look on his face one of ignorance of the meaning or... a poker face learned from Prince Random.
Irene's glance lifts to his, amused. "I appreciate tact. Or tack. The man who styles himself Cosimo Mandrake." She pauses, and says, rather straight in her tone, "The one who bows with one leg out to show off his calf."
Erasmus only reveals his expression as a poker face in the fact that it doesn't change at this talk of his cousin. The pause before he speaks seems to say what a frown might. "I see you admire tact from a distance, Duchess."
Irene, who is usually quite tactful, merely nods. "Deliberately, with a spyglass."
Erasmus chuckles shortly, and nods to the three guards, who salute and move off, heading out of the palace. "I'd have to assume deliberation in who you say it to as well. What do you want?"
Irene shakes her head, "A warning, is all." She purses her lips, looking way. "An impression is being made."
Random comes here from the direction of the Burgundy Solar - Royal Palace.
Random has arrived.
"Indeed it is," Erasmus murmurs. "And more can be manufactured. Impressions are as cheap as lives these days, Duchess. Amber cannot afford it, alas. Wouldn't you think?"
Vialle comes here from the direction of the Burgundy Solar - Royal Palace.
Vialle has arrived.
Erasmus stands off to the side of the flow of traffic, facing... or facing off with, the Duchess Feldane. They are speaking alone.
Irene's reply is dry, "The impression being made is a direct one. I've said my piece, Commander, and it's more assistance than I would otherwise trouble to give. But these are troubled times, and if we're all to dine together, it helps to use the same cutlery."
Erasmus straightens a bit, patting the spot at his hip that would normally bear the weight of a sword. "I never go into a meal without a good knife, Duchess," he says easily. "Perhaps when you tire of warnings, we can discuss solutions. Good day."
Irene smiles at Erasmus, wry. "It's not mine to solve. Good day, Commander." She walks off in the direction of most of the Court, it seems.