| Logs |
2010 December 15
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Closing Time
Sulochana isn't snarling any more, but her golden-green eyes are almost sparking with her anger, and her voice is cuttingly sharp -- although she's professional enough to not let her words carry, "Oh, only now you promise to quit acting like an ass. What, you don't want me to be someone's 'whipping girl' any more? Or... oh, wait, silly me -- that's right, you wouldn't force yourself on one such as me. Goodness, how lucky can a girl get?!" She continues to glare at him as she adds icily, "Maybe you could start by trying to explain yourself... if you can."
Roy clears his throat and says, voice quiet, "Not sure I can, lookin' back. I had a paranoid fit. Things have been pretty damn hectic around here since you agreed t' have me as a client. After a long time of obviously not likin' me."
Sulochana sighs and shakes her head, unfolding her arms and looking away from him, down the hallway after Chanticleer, "Roy, you're not making sense and you're certainly not making me feel at all reassured by this... outburst of yours. Frankly, this sort of behavior is not healthy, and I think you might consider talking to Pierce about it. I know I certainly don't want to be anywhere near it."
Roy starts to reach for her again, and then stops himself. Again. The Hetaera's eyes narrow dangerously as Roy does so, and she relaxes infinitesimally when he remembers himself. "Sulochana, I 'pologize if I'm not makin' sense. Pierce tole me I was bein' stupid. I thought I might be overreactin' too, but a lotta this seemed to start when you agreed to have me as a client, and I got all paranoid about who might be behind it all. Yer the only woman I ever met with the brains, the spunk, an' the finesse to do a lotta this plottin'."
'Chana listens to his explanation, then sighs and shakes her head again, "What is it about men, that they simply refuse to see the women around them? You yourself told me about the voodoo queen in your city!" Unspoken but somehow subtly implied is the added 'you idiot!'
The king is used to his charm and good looks getting him past a lot of the rough spots with women. He puts his hands over his face and tips his head up toward the ceiling. It's been a long, long time since a woman made him stick his foot this far in his mouth because he was trying too hard. Finally he takes a deep breath and looks straight at her, "Sulochana, the voodoo queen ain't half as talented as Froid Jacques. She ain't half as smart as you. I don't think it was her behind all this. An' no, I wouldn' force m'self on ya. Or ennybody else, fer that matter. Dammit, woman, I'm halfway payin' you a compliment, here. I jest ain't sayin' it right. Tell me what I gotta do t' getcha t' stay."
Sulochana is silent for a long moment, just watching Roy and wondering: is it worth letting him apologize? Would she be better off just leaving? She considers for a few heartbeats... then sighs as she remembers she has responsibilities to others -- her storming off without giving this... incredibly annoying man a second chance would probably harm the caravan. Hm... that John person too, possibly -- and he's guilty of nothing more than doing as he was ordered to do, despite likely knowing the orders were sheer, stupid madness.
'Chana sighs again, then says firmly, "You really want to know? Fine. This is what will get me to s- hmm, no. What will get me to not leave immediately. First, I want there to be no repercussions against anyone involved, including both my caravan and your Johnny-boy -- this fiasco was certainly not the fault of anyone but yourself. Second, I want some sort of very nice concessions for the caravan, since that's my main livelihood-" her eyes spark with anger again as she snaps, "and you seem hell-bent on damaging my reputation -- for no reason!" She nods firmly, starting to count on her fingers, "That's three: I want an incredibly public and sincere apology from you for this crap! And if you want to hire me again, for pity's sake listen to me when I say I need information from you on your goals, if you want any use of my being at parties with you!" She pauses then, studying him with narrowed eyes to see how he's taking this so far.
Roy doesn't chew on his bottom lip, but he looks like he might want to. He listens to her demands and smirks a little bit. Despite feeling like a fool, he rather thinks she's gorgeous when she's angry -- makes her eyes flash rather becomingly. Then he jerks his mind back in line, "Wasn't gonna punish nobody for this. Johnny did what he was told t'do. An' ain't nobody else gonna suffer 'cause I made a stupid bet. An' I'll gladly apologize in fronta god 'n ever'body. What kinda concessions we talkin' here?"
Sulochana conceals the faint internal touch of surprise at how well Roy is taking this -- could he really mean it? She considers staying, then growls under her breath; no, she doesn't want to be around Roy -- he's good looking and charming, yes, but he's also far too keenly aware of it! She doesn't need that crap. Firmly she says, "I'm not done yet! I want..." she hesitates for a second, trying to think of something the king is sure to refuse. As she glances towards the doorway into the ballroom, Pierce comes quietly strolling out of it, and she holds up a finger to Roy, to ask him to wait a moment. To the chirugeon she says, "How much?"
Pierce arches a brow, making his scars wrinkle slightly, "How much what?"
Sulochana's smile gets wicked, "The bet. How much did you make?"
Pierce smirks and says, "He's commissioning new cases for my collection."
The Hetaera pauses, then looks puzzled, "I am sorry, chirugeon; I do not understand?"
The chirugeon says, "Roy's paying for new cases for my collection of butterflies. They have to be well-made and sturdy, yet delicate. I don't know the price except to know that it won't be cheap. Say an ounce of gold."
Sulochana studies the dark-skinned man for a long moment... then simply nods once, her gaze going back to Roy, "All right. I don't really have the heart to ask for half of his winnings, since I get the feeling the collection -- butterflies, right? -is personally important. Plus at least he can recognize a lady." Her cool gaze rests on Roy for a moment, and her lips curl up in a beautiful smile that doesn't reach her eyes as she adds, "So I'll just ask for the same amount paid to me." She grins as she adds what she's sure will be the capper to him refusing her, "Plus, I want you to take my advice, and either fire or re-train that damn petty tyrant of a chamberlain. Swapping around the schedule to make people feel bad -- what were you thinking, Roy?!"
Roy's brows go up. An ounce of gold. Concessions and firing his chamberlain. She's asking for a lot. But then, she has helped save his life. Sulochana folds her arms and gives him a defiant glare. She's already internally planning where to settle Alg in her wagon, back at the caravan; she expects (with a hint of relief) she'll be sleeping in her own bed tonight. Roy smiles lopsidedly. It's a charming smile and looks real -- more real than his rogue mask, "Can't say how much those cases'll be till they're built, an' what concessions we talkin' with your caravan? As for the chamberlain, he'll get new orders."
Sulochana blinks, then hides her startlement. He's... going to do it?! She opens her mouth, then pauses, considering. "Ahh... free passage for... for six crossings?" She's completely surprised, both at his apparent sincerity and that he's still talking to her. Could she have underestimated him? Her eyes narrow suddenly -- or is he just lying to her? She studies his chakras, checking to see if he's being insincere.
The man doesn't seem to be lying, but his Will chakra flares as she makes a truly outrageous demand, "Three. Six's one helluva lot when you only come by once 'r twice a year."
The Hetaera seizes on this with relief -- finally, something he'll refuse her so she can feel justified in stomping off! "Excuse me?! You're telling me you charge us more than you do other caravans -- simply because we don't cross your river all the time?!"
Roy shakes his head, "No'm. I charge ya'll little less, point 'a fact, 'cause yer so big. Price'd be lots higher if I went by vehicle, like I do with most folks."
Sulochana's angry retort dies on her lips, and she pauses in mid-breath, staring silently at Roy as she thinks. Finally she says softly, "Four... and I will ask for nothing more of you to bribe me into staying." Her eyes flare fiercely for a moment as she thinks, [although I will seriously hurt you if you make me regret this tonight!]
Roy blinks, then says slowly, "You sayin' four crossin's and you'll retract the rest of that?" He seems confused by that.
Sulochana smiles and shakes her head, "No, sorry. I'm saying I will add nothing more." She tilts her head consideringly, then grins and gives him the truth, to see how he takes it, "I just realized I was adding more and more so you'd refuse me, and give me justification to stomp off in a huff. Also, I want an even number of crossings -- and I do mean four, not two -- since we do round trips."
Roy blinks again and smiles wryly, "Damn. I really did piss you off, di'n't I?" He takes a deep breath and says, "Fine. It's a deal."
The Hetaera raises an amused eyebrow, "You're only now realizing this?" She smiles and nods once, "Agreed. To reiterate, so there are no unpleasant surprises: you will offer me a very public and sincere apology; there will be no repercussions against anyone even remotely involved in this... peccadillo; I will receive the same amount in payment as the cost of Pierce's, er... collection cabinets? -the caravan will receive four free crossings of the river; your chamberlain will stop playing mind games with visitors; and should you hire me again for escort at a party you will inform me of your goals so I may be of some use in accomplishing them." She raises an inquiring eyebrow, a faint smile on her face, "You are still good with this? You have not changed your mind?" She glances sideways for an instant at Pierce, wondering how he's taking this. Right now she trusts his judgment more than she does Roy's.
Pierce is looking somewhat amused. Roy is looking chagrined, but he says, "Yeah. That's the deal I thought I heard, all right."
Sulochana nods once, stepping around Roy and tucking a hand into Pierce's arm, "All right then. Chirugeon, might I ask you to escort me within once more? I fear the king will be busy cleaning up for a bit, and there is damage control I must do immediately if we are to quash the worst of the rumors."
Pierce looks surprised, but he hurriedly offer his elbow and says, "Of course, ma'am." He raises his brows at Roy, who waves him on, "She's right. I gotta get cleaned up."
Sulochana smiles gracefully at the king, "Later then, your majesty," then grins up at Pierce, "You don't do parties often, do you? If you'd rather, I can try this on my own."
Pierce smiles a bit, "No, I don't now. But I used to. I wouldn't dream of having you go back in unescorted." He inclines his head toward the door, "Shall we?"
Sulochana laughs softly, her eyes sparkling with pleasure instead of anger now. "Thank you, then! I do appreciate it." She glances around with her courteous mask on as they stroll back into the ballroom, although her low murmur is wry, "I would dearly love two things, if we might? First, that we not spend any time, at least tonight, near John D'Amato. I realize he was just following orders, but I was not in jest when I said he truly alarmed me." She grins mischievously at the doctor as she adds, "And secondly, I would simply love a drink -- an undoctored one!"
Pierce gets her a drink and -- once he himself has danced with her, moving her 'round the floor to a rather martial and old-fashioned song -- he moves off to speak quietly with John. 'Chana's rather touched at how helpful the chirugeon is being. The Hetaera is as good as her word: she dances, flirts, chatters, and is utterly charming, as if nothing at all untoward had happened. Curious hints and inquiries are met with light laughter or amused reassurance -- it was just a misunderstanding! Nothing worth worrying about.
People are curious and intrigued at the fact the Hetaera returned without the king. A few of them try asking roundabout questions of her and of Pierce. Pierce cheerfully pretends not to get the gist of the informal interrogations and answers the questions in a very straightforward and unhelpful way that leaves many of the courtiers glowering. Suraksha sticks close to Pierce as much as she can; she's not sure why Roy assigned a guard specifically to her, but he knows his city better than she does -- so it must have been for a good reason. Until Chanticleer returns, therefore, the Hetaera will not offer herself as target. It's as she's strolling between dances with Pierce that she curiously asks, "May I inquire as to how you received those scars, Chirugeon?"
Pierce's brows go up, "If you're going to ask questions like that, you ought to call me Pierce."
Sulochana tilts her head and smiles at him, "You do not mind? I was not sure how you would feel about my, ahh... shall we say, confronting your king and friend quite so... emphatically?" She grins, her eyes sparkling as she adds, "I would be pleased if you would call me Sulochana, then?"
The chirugeon doesn't pause in walking with the Hetaera as she asks the personal question, "Ma'am, I told him he was being an idiot. I'm glad I turned out to be right... Sulochana. The scars are from a rite I underwent trying to strengthen my Tapping ability. It did not work, sadly. But the scars are a reminder of things I learned about myself."
Sulochana grins at the reminder, and murmurs, "Is he often prone to acting quite so... precipitously?" She considers a moment, then glances at the tall, dark man as she adds a bit worriedly, "Did I... overdo it, do you think? You know him better than I, after all." Chanticleer returns, mildly relieved Roy still has his head, and much more relieved Sulochana didn't leave posthaste without the sidhe... though he realizes she wouldn't have done so. He makes sure Sulochana can see him when he arrives, and he remains close to the edge of the dance floor near where Sulochana and Pierce are. The Hetaera's relief shows on her face for a moment when she spots Chanticleer, and she cheerfully waves him over as she waits for Pierce to reply. The sidhe glances around, and heads over to where Sulochana indicates.
Pierce considers her question and says, "I believe you did take advantage of him rather a lot, ma'a... Sulochana. The concessions you demanded are quite steep. Especially as he will be paying your passage from his own money, if I know him. He does not stint his city."
The Hetaera nods slowly, considering, although she says nothing. She could try justifying herself -- she lives or dies as a Hetaera on her reputation, and being accused of betraying a client might be the kiss of death even if she were later proven completely innocent. However, Pierce is unlikely to ever have to walk a metaphoric mile in her shoes, and she doubts he'd completely understand just how... internally she smiles ruefully at the thought -- how irrational men can be about women and sex. Instead she smiles more sincerely as she reaches out with her free hand to take one of Chanticleer's. Her cheerful expression is clearly for any observers, as she quietly updates the sidhe on why she's still here, and what the arrangements with Roy are. She finishes with, "So we do not have to try moving Alg tonight, which is better for him. Also, his majesty is off cleaning up for now. Do you need to leave to change arrangements or anything?" The sidhe shakes his head.
"On the other hand," the chirugeon continues, "He did not haggle with you much. If I had not participated in the bet, I might suggest you waive one of the terms of your demands. As it stands, I may help him pay the cash demands myself." He inclines his head to Chanticleer.
'Chana tilts her head curiously at the chirugeon at that, murmuring quietly, "Why? You did nothing, as far as I know. Why should you lose anything from this?" She considers, then smiles ruefully, "Let me guess: that's also my answer regarding whether he does this often?" She casually scans the man's chakras, wondering if he's being completely honest in this. He appears to be.
Chanticleer nods in greeting to Pierce, looking more than surprised that the Hetaera got so much out of the king, echoing Pierce's reaction. "I'm floored," he says, "I've known sidhe nobles who would risk social censure when faced with such demands. Well done, Lady."
Pierce smiles slightly, "He doesn't act quite this rashly most of the time, but it is his nature to run headlong into things. The fact that he does not get himself slapped more often is a miracle. And I ought not to have participated at all. It is my penance."
'Chana raises an amused eyebrow at the chirugeon, "Your penance? Mmhmm... well, far be it from me to get between a man and his conscience. I will ask only this: if he felt it was too much, why didn't he haggle more? I doubt he's so taken with me on the basis of one night and day that he has no other ulterior motives, after all." Her small smile is cool, and she continues watching Pierce's chakras for his response to that.
Pierce smiles a bit, "He is not entirely stupid. Nor is he entirely led by his gonads." The chirugeon adds, "As extremely enjoyable as your company is, I suspect he is trying more to maintain diplomatic relations. After all, you travel to other large cities."
Sulochana is silent for several heartbeats before she gives the doctor a puzzled look, "I... had not gotten the feeling his, ah, rulership was quite so... tenuous? Or am I misunderstanding?" She abruptly snaps her fingers, "Ah! I am slow tonight. You mean as a caravan, not as a Hetaera. I understand now."
Pierce nods and lets his eyes scan around the room, frowning slightly, "He should be back soon."
'Chana smiles and adds quietly to Chanticleer, "I believe John D'Amato has been kind enough to agree to stay clear of me tonight, at my request, by the way." Chanticleer nods a little. John is a good guard, but Chanti dislikes that the poor man got dragged into this in such a way. The Hetaera looks back at the doctor and adds thoughtfully, "You must be... quite the old friend, then." She smiles, her Hetaera face returning as she pats his arm and cheerfully adds, "Perhaps we will get a chance to talk further, later. I shall look forward to the opportunity. For now, I should go be more social, now my bodyguard is returned." She thanks the chirugeon courteously for his patience in escorting her about the room, then heads off for a drink. She suspects she'll get easily swept up into the social whirl again, after all -- at least until Roy returns.
As she sips some champagne, Sulochana wonders idly how Roy will apologize; she's not much for huge apologies but she knows she must defend her good reputation as a Hetaera. Still, she'd be fine with him simply bowing over her hand and being visibly attentive to her for a while, so it's clear he's not angry with her, and wishes her attention. She smiles and graciously accepts an invitation to dance as she's considering -- and, much as she expected, she has to deflect curiosity about the 'incident.' She does so with her usual effective charm, and manages to enjoy the dance as well.
Chanticleer remains with Sulochana, being discreet but not interfering with Sulochana's socializing. He parries questions directed to him about what happened between the Hetaera and the King. Some of the more deft questions he deflects verbally, others he interposes a shield of wit between himself and the inquisitive lance, and others -- ironically the most direct and blunt ones -- he just thoroughly ignores. Verbal fencing, he reflects, is much different than fencing on the field or on the court floor. Because he remains with Sulochana, however, he does not interact with John.
Roy returns about an hour later, wearing a very similar suit to the one he was wearing when he left -- except the tie is now a deep red pattern, as is the waistcoat. He makes his return at an appropriate time to be sure everyone knows he's returned. When he's positive everyone's eyes are on him, he makes his way over to Sulochana and takes her hand, bowing over it and saying in a voice meant to carry, "Ma'am, I fear I might have overindulged earlier. I am so sorry to have insulted you. Do you forgive me?"
Sulochana raises an amused eyebrow -- this is a far more... thorough apology than she could have hoped for! She smiles prettily, her voice a throaty purr designed to inspire tingles in listeners, "Dear man. How thoughtful! How could I not, when you are so considerate to my... needs?" There's just the faintest hint of suggestiveness in her words and tone -- enough to make anyone watching be absolutely sure as to what will be occurring later that night. Her golden-eyed gaze, however, is still cautiously wary as she watches Roy; she doesn't want to be caught off guard again by him.
Roy looks up at her from where he's bowing over her hand, grin glinting slightly wickedly as he says, "I am blessed, ma'am." He rises, gesturing to the musicians, and they take up a sultry sort of song, "Dance with me?"
'Chana purrs, "With pleasure!" as she slides a hand up onto his shoulder. Her next words are much, much softer, however -- designed to carry only to Roy as she murmurs in dry amusement, "'Blessed'? You sure are." She chuckles and adds equally quietly, "Pardon me -- that's enough of that."
Roy grins down at her, relieved she seems to have forgiven him, "Got th' devil's own luck, I do." He slides out onto the floor with her. She snorts softly, but as she promised, she will twit him no more about it tonight. Instead she continues to be a good Hetaera; she asks him if, now he's hopefully willing to work with her, he has anyone or anything in particular he's working on at this ball that she might be of assistance with?
The dance Roy is leading Sulochana into is akin to a tango. They aren't dressed in a way to make the best of it, but Roy is a good dancer and does what he can with her wearing such a wide skirt. 'Chana laughs softly and shifts her mental dancing gears. Instead of performing the intricate, flashing steps -- which would be hidden by her skirt -- she uses her body language and her upper torso to speak for her; to emphasize the sultry, steamy nature of the dance. Her tilted golden eyes flash as she glances coquettishly at her partner, and her small hands and delicate fingers perform a dance of their own, caressing and teasing along Roy's arms, neck, and torso. She knows how to speak with beautiful eloquence with her body, and she is currently singing a visual and tactile siren's song of subtle invitation as she dances.
Chanticleer arches a brow half a centimeter. He's not a social animal, really. Knights in the courts could be expected to do a number of things, but the serious social warfare and campaigns were waged by rather elite coteries of courtiers -- the knights' nickname for a group of them was "a gossip of poison-tongues" -- who could play the ebb and flow of a gathering like a harpsichord. But he can pick out enough to tell when something is odd -- like now. Half a dozen of the guests are paying quite a bit more attention to Sulochana and Roy than is socially or particularly warranted. When he gets a chance he will have to ask Sulochana about this; in the meantime he is alert for any convergence on her by these six in particular.
Roy is more free to use his body to dance the story of the tango, and he knows how to turn on the masculine body language in answer to her invitation. Watching them, it would be hard to imagine they'd had rather a heated and high-priced argument an hour ago. In fact, he seems quite eager to be near her. Sulochana tosses her head and, with inner cheer -- she does love a good dance partner -- pulls out all the stops for the fun of it! She's had an astonishing amount of training in this, after all, and she rarely gets to flaunt it all at once. Her dance is constrained by the lacy belled skirt, but she's asked Roy repeatedly if he needs help here, and he's given her nothing... so she might as well just enjoy herself. That, and let him publicly show everyone he really wants to be near her, and she's holding no grudges.
Chanticleer makes a further note: the strangely attentive folks appear to be evenly split between sexes, their numbers being half male and half female. He wonders why that's significant. He wonders if the energetic way Sulochana is dancing with Roy may have something to do with it. He further wonders if he'd really be that blind to human arousal like that. As he thinks, a woman slips up to Chanticleer and smiles coquettishly at him, "There is a rumor you will be leaving." The woman is not one of the obviously-watching six. She's a tall, slender lady with deep chestnut hair, wearing a deep blue dress which goes well with her pale skin and cornflower eyes.
Here and there around the room people are starting to get quite entranced by the dance. Baton Rouge is known for its carousing, but the atmosphere of the party makes the steaminess of the dance all the more noticeable. Roy isn't having to pretend interest and arousal -- Sulochana can tell his pupils are dilated, and can hear his quick and shallow breathing as they dance. She is also treated to several sincerely murmured compliments, or what sound like compliments, in the king's oddly-accented French.
Chanticleer arches a brow, looking to the woman. "There's also a rumor that I'm here in Baton Rouge to swap all the firstborn with changelings. Always found that one rather insulting, but curiously hilarious."
The woman laughs and says, "I had heard that one as well. But I actually believe the new one." She offers her hand, "Selene Duchesne."
As she's whirling gracefully through the dance and following Roy's attentive lead, 'Chana smiles with smoky pleasure at the king's murmurings. When the two of them finish the dance -- her slender body draped forward against his, her hands framing his face, and one of her legs raised and curled against his hip -- and Roy does not immediately release her... the Hetaera smiles with lazy mischief and murmurs very softly, "Think they bought it? What were you saying there, mmm?"
Chanticleer takes Duchesne's hand and bows over it. "Pleased to meet you, m'selle," he says, in the Baton Rouge manner. As a guard, though, he remains attentive to the party around them. "I admit to being curious," he says, straightening, "as to why this rumor has more weight than the other."
Selene smiles and says, "The fact that it is being whispered by guards rather than maidservants. Maids are wise in many ways, but they do tend to be a superstitious lot." She folds her hands in front of herself, her elbow-length gloves encircled by sapphire bracelets at the wrists, "Or am I wrong? Are you staying?"
Roy is obviously and shamelessly interested as he holds 'Chana close against his body at dance's end. His voice is a low purr, "I was sayin' that yer eyes are like gemstones an' yer hair is like a night-time river."
Sulochana's soft, purring laugh is a warm breath against Roy's skin -- and then she straightens, gently disengaging as she smiles and murmurs, "Flatterer. Thank you." She tucks her fingers into the crook of his arm, and her arch glance sideways at him is mischievous, "Should I take this to mean it is not only for your reputation that you wish me to spend the night, then?"
Roy grins lazily back down at her, "Wa'n't ever jest for reputation, cherie." He leads her over to a table with drinks and sighs, making a show of it for the people around them, "Wish I could dance jest with you t'night." Sulochana's small smile is intimate with promise and meaning. She doesn't say anything aloud about his comment, though, simply thanking Roy gracefully as she accepts a drink from him. As she sips she glances around the ballroom, idly curious as to who all is there... and why Roy really seems to have no goals at all for this night's party. Well... one more night in his bed should be all right. There's the carnival tomorrow too -- hopefully that will be both fun and profitable for the caravan. She glances sideways at the king again, smiling faintly as she admits to herself: he is quite pretty, too.
Chanticleer arches a brow again. It's not like the guards to be chatty. Roy doesn't exactly pay for sworn silence, but this indicates a slightly more troubling concern: to wit, what guard has been speaking to Duchesne or her agent, and why? He reminds himself of the gossips of the courts, who could turn around and be utterly vicious in their social warfare. Even though some knights disparaged such actions, older knights knew that wars could be won -- and declared -- over the actions of such courtiers, without a single lance taking to the field.
"Well, I am not going to be leaving at dawn's light," the sidhe says lightly. "And of course certainly not tonight. I'm surprised a lady of your stature would concern herself with the disposition of the guards." He actually has no idea what her social standing is, but one courtier did teach him: when in doubt, elevate them before you -- it honors those who earned such honor, and lets the boastful preen. Of course the courtier added, 'which makes that the perfect time to put a stiletto between their ribs, or put poison in their goblet,' but Chanticleer is not quite ready to do that.
Roy leans down and murmurs close to the Hetaera's ear, "I'm gonna leave you here. There's a man wearin' a blue ascot right here. Name's Elmore. I'd like ta know jest how close he is ta cornerin' th' market on silk." Sulochana gives Roy a surprised glance as she sips from her goblet -- then brightens after she's swallowed. She laughs, murmuring for listeners, "Mmm, can't wait, your majesty!" and winks... she's still smiling after he heads off. Her gaze travels, apparently randomly, as she searches for and spots the gentleman with the blue ascot. She dimples at him, her eyes twinkling as he just 'happens' to meet her gaze. Before Sulochana can arrange things so Elmore thinks it's his idea they have a dance together, though, a rather weedy man in a dark suit has interposed himself and offered his hand to the Hetaera.
Elsewhere in the room, Selene laughs warmly and opens her fan with a practiced snap of her wrist, holding it up before her face, "Guards are wonderful folk, for the most part. Muscular, chivalrous, and protective. It can make a lady feel downright giddy. And I have been meaning to get in contact with you. Terribly forward though it may be, I was wondering if you could spare a dance, or if you are only permitted to dance with the king's escort?"
Chanticleer is not a sidhe to find human women unappealing, but he does find courtly intrigue worrisome, ardor-dampening, and oh, yes... too-oft terminal. "As honored and as flattered as I am, Lady Duchesne, I am on duty this evening and am not allowed to dance at all with anyone." He glances over to Sulochana and Roy, taking note of the weedy man -- wondering if he recognizes him and, more importantly, if the sidhe recognizes the man as one of the ones paying rather rapt attention earlier.
Selene laughs, dimpling at Chanticleer, "And when will you be off-duty?"
Across the room, Sulochana accepts the offered hand with a courteous smile, but she's careful to also smile with invitingly shy-seeming interest at Elmore as she's led out onto the dance floor. Hmm... looks like her steamy dance with Roy may have made her first mission a bit more difficult. Well, no worry; all she'll have to do is stomp back here and look sad and put upon near Elmore, should this particular gentleman get fresh. The weedy, slender man has extremely intense, dark eyes and is a competent dancer, if not an inspired one. He introduces himself as Renoir Laurent and makes polite chatter for the first minute or so of the dance. Sulochana is courteous and charming; she can forgive a man for not being a fantastic dancer if they're truly trying to be nice.
Chanticleer is quite concerned now; the weedy man was one of the ones who was watching Sulochana closely in the last dance. If he was just infatuated, that would be one thing, but this... the sidhe starts to wonder if Duchesne is involved. He smiles to her. "Well... certainly not until the end of the soiree, and ensuring His Majesty and the Lady Hetaera Sulochana are both safe for the evening." [I find it difficult to believe that after all this time I've been in Baton Rouge, you choose right here and right now to proposition me.] "Would you excuse me a moment, Lady? There is a small security concern I need to attend to." He is already moving towards... dammit, who to talk to. Roy. Or another guard, one of the undercover ones who are good at reading crowds and people... Selene looks disappointed, though not alarmed, when Chanticleer moves off, calling quietly after him, "I do hope to see you before you leave town." The woman watches the graceful sidhe move away with a slight smile behind her fan.
Chanticleer pauses long enough to smile back to her, bowing and this time curious as to whether she is actually sincere -- especially since she did not move to stop him. Then his duty makes him move in a beeline to the nearest: Roy or a guard. He worries he has squandered precious seconds. Roy is in a group of men with brandy glasses, all chatting and laughing. A guard would be a much nearer solution.
Renoir waits until the other people around them are caught up in the dance before he starts asking questions which are spiraling toward asking her what went on between herself and Roy. Sulochana thinks a bit, then gives Renoir a hurt look. Her voice is low and soft with melancholy, "You mean you asked me to dance... because of the king? Not because of me?" She simply doesn't answer any of the questions after that. Renoir quickly assures her it was not simply the king, but he could not help but be curious. Besides, he says, he is fairly certain he knows what happened. Sulochana looks away, clearly still hurt, "Then why ask me?" She adds softly, "I think... perhaps we should stop dancing together, Mr. Laurent."
Chanticleer inwardly grumbles at Roy, but there's no helping that. A guard will have to do, he hopes -- he needs to get word to them about what could be a gossip of poison-tongues at the dance. The closest guard is, thankfully, not John D'Amato; it's another almost-innocuous young man who goes by the name Travis. Chanticleer gets over to Travis, hoping the young man knows enough about human social situations to give a bit more direction. "Travis," the sidhe says quietly, "I think there may be a problem. I saw six people being more attentive than usual after Roy apologized to Sulochana. I mean very attentive, more than just intrigued by the dance. One of them is dancing with Sulochana now."
Travis, who is negligently holding a whiskey glass but not actually drinking out of it, glances toward Sulochana and then back at Chanticleer, "Renoir Laurent. Sort of a wanna-be noble."
Renoir hurries to assure Sulochana he will respect her wishes, but asks if she will allow him to fetch her a drink to make up for the insult. The Hetaera considers -- Elmore was near the drinks table. If he's still in that vicinity, she'll graciously allow Renoir to escort her there. She allows that she would not mind a drink, and thanks him politely.
Chanticleer frowns, "Sort of? He's not nobility?" His mind races; that would explain why he himself didn't recognize Renoir. He goes through the others he spotted: were any of them nobles or 'wannabe' nobles? When he spots the couple heading to the drinks table, he tugs on Travis's sleeve. "Come on. I hope I won't, but I may need backup."
Renoir escorts Sulochana toward the drinks table, but pauses on the way to take a pair of champagne flutes from the tray of a passing server. He offers her one of them and says, "I hope you won't hold my remarks against me."
Sulochana sighs and smiles as she accepts the drink, "No, of course not. I just..." She sighs softly again as she looks out over the dance floor, then back at the intense young man. He seems the type to respond well to flattery, "Well... I was rather hoping it was dancing with me you were interested in, you know?" She smiles wryly, letting her golden-eyed gaze drop to her drink... then has a sip.
Chanticleer realizes most of the intense observers were not actually nobles. The only one he recognized as a noble was a young man whose father has a minor holding on the edge of Roy's domain, almost closer to the next city over. Damn! He should have thought of this before. He doesn't drag Travis over, but he needs the other guard nearby. "They're going to try to -- hells!" As he moves in rapidly to Sulochana, he hisses to Travis, "Grab that server. Check him out, make sure he's one of ours! Then get Pierce here fast!" A bit more clearly, hoping it isn't too far for propriety in case he's wrong, he says, "Lady Sulochana..."
Travis nods and moves quickly and discreetly to intercept the server who was carrying the tray. 'Chana finishes her drink and looks up at her name, smiling inquiringly, "Yes, Chanticleer?" Renoir too is smiling as she sips at her drink and he visibly relaxes as she puts down the empty flute.
Chanticleer inwardly curses. [Gods dammit! Damn it all! If she is harmed, Oberon help me but I will tear Laurent apart and spread his ashes from the Delta to Lake Itasca!] "Mister Laurent," he greets the man neutrally, subtly placing himself a little between Sulochana and Laurent. "A pleasure to see you this evening. I'm sure King Roy is glad you could make it." Sulochana's smile doesn't waver in the least... but she doesn't miss Chanti's behavior -- or Travis heading for the server. Her eyes darken in sudden anger. If this is another damn test...!
Renoir smiles at Chanticleer; it's obvious he's trying to make it look sincere. He is not good at faking sincerity. "I doubt the king," there is a subtle sneer in the word, "has noticed I am here."
Sulochana murmurs softly, "Chanti, what's wrong, please?"
Chanticleer's expression turns into what could be a guileless smile. But he is inwardly fuming even more as he catches the emphasis Renoir makes on Roy's title. "I, however, have," he says, and he drops his voice. "And perhaps it may be best there be no reason for King Roy to take notice of your presence. Or that of your compatriots." Half over his shoulder and not taking his eyes off of Renoir, he says, "Lady Sulochana, please find the chirugeon posthaste."
The Hetaera looks surprised, but simply nods, "All right, moment." She glances around carefully, searching for sign of the tall, dark-skinned Pierce. However, it is clear Pierce slipped out of the ballroom at some point past. Parties are normally something he avoids like the plague, and he left this one as soon as Roy returned and things looked smoothed over.
Renoir smiles a bit at Chanticleer, "I'm surprised that you are so eager to be on the king's side. It is being noised about that you are leaving his service."
'Chana murmurs, "Chanticleer, Pierce is not in the ballroom right now. If this is an emergency I'm happy to go get him. If not, though... it would be bad form for the king's escort to depart?"
Renoir smiles, the smile still not very sincere; the eyes too intense, "In fact, you might find it efficacious to keep things quiet here. And safer for the lady."
That gets Sulochana's attention -- her head snaps around to Renoir, and her voice is tight and intent as she murmurs, "What have you done."
Chanticleer makes a wry sound, "At this rate, I'm surprised the cats of St. Paul's haven't heard of it. But for as long as I am in his employ I will do my duty." He says to Sulochana, "Lady, find a guard, please, and have him get someone to fetch Pierce." He hesitates, then adds, "This is not a test." He arches a brow to Renoir. "I will take that as a threat, then. 'Sir.'" He leaves his hands at his side, away from the steel breastplate, giving Renoir one chance to answer Sulochana's question.
Renoir's smile gets a momentarily vicious glint, "I have assured at least the lady's cooperation, if not yours, guard." He looks at her and murmurs, "I do sincerely apologize for such drastic measures, ma'am. But I had to have assurances." He continues, "No harm need come to you if you are willing to assist in something that will give us both great satisfaction." He cuts his eyes at Chanticleer, "Your man will also need to stay quiet."
Suraksha stares silently at the man for a moment, then says quietly, "Chanti, let him speak, please. I find I am intensely curious as to what is going on... especially if I am in some danger." She adds sharply to the man, "He is not property. Speak. What have you done?"
Chanticleer says flatly, "Assurances and cooperation are asked for, Mister Laurent. Not taken." But he remains quiet after that, taking a half step back in deference to Sulochana.
Renoir's voice is low, "The drink was, pardon the term, doctored. But it need not matter. As I said, I suspect that you are as angry with Roy as I and my... associates... are."
Sulochana thinks carefully as she waits and listens. Chanticleer says this is not a test, but he did not know of the test involving John. Surely Roy wouldn't be so... so stupid as to have yet another test?! Coldly she murmurs, "If you've done something..." She takes a deep breath, then simply growls, "Speed it up, please." Chanticleer grimaces. [Poison. First Roy, now Renoir. Seriously, what the hells? I know it's the weapon du choice for courtiers even in the sidhe court, but this is getting ridiculous.]
Renoir is as succinct as he can make himself be -- which is, it turns out, not very. The man seems to have delusions of evil mastermind-hood. The drink was spiked with a concoction formulated not to go into effect until 24 hours from consumption. He has an antidote and all he wants is Sulochana's and Chanticleer's assistance in a plan to get rid of Roy. He apologizes again for the drastic measures, "But it shouldn't take very long for you to take care of the pretender-king, and I'm certain you didn't fall for his apology earlier. He has no scruples about trampling pride."
Sulochana feels dizzy for a moment with a mix of anger and sudden fear. She closes her eyes in a slow blink to collect herself, then says softly, "What's the concoction?"
Renoir is obviously proud of this, "A mixture of coral snake venom and several other substances that will keep it inert for several hours. There is, of course, a neutralizing agent -- and an antidote if it has to get that far. But I have every confidence that you'll be able to take care of our mutual problem well before the antidote is needed."
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