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A sealed message arrives at Lucas' sickbed early in the afternoon.

For Lord Lucas, when he awakes.

Most fashionable cousin,
Despite the tone of our meeting at the cafe, the news of your wound grieves me. Please try to catch flying objects with something else than your head next time.

Wishing for your quick recovery,

Ossian

Under Ossian's signature is a tasteful sketch of a couple making love. It's beautiful enough that most people wouldn't classify it as pornography. (Although Lady Vesper maybe would.)

Lucas, half reclining in his wing chair, smiles faintly at this - either at the missive or the illustration or - quite probably - both.

He instructs Gaston to place it prominantly on the mantelpiece where, he trusts, it will outrage certain adult visitors, while being too high of the ground to attract the attention - and interminable questions - of Hope.

A letter arrives in the hands of Liam, Paige's page, along with several wrapped parcels...

Dearest Cousin,

My plans to relieve Solace of the children for an afternoon soon will have to wait. I had hoped to allow you two the liesure of an afternoon without the worries of Nanny Starch, but father has asked me to accompany him on his voyage. We'll be leaving on the morning's tide.

I hope that when I return I will find you well again. Perhaps I may call and we can speak of the care and coddling of infant powers, a subject currently close to my heart. Enclosed find masks for Hope to play 'Dragons' with, what with Cousin Jovian's wings about, I'm sure they're to be all the rage among the kinder circles and we can't let a St. Just fall behind the fashion.

Also find some medical supplies I hope will speed your recovery.

My best,
Paige

The masks are modified from Paige's costume of last evening, and the other parcel contains 20 year single malt.

Very shortly after Corwin and party depart a page delivers a letter, sealed with Vere's sigil to Gaston, addressed:

To Lord Lucas St . Just, Son of Flora, Princess of Amber

The letter reads:

Unto Lord Lucas,

Greetings, and my hopes that your recovery shall be rapid and easy. I am told by Prince Gerard that you are awake again, and I regret that you were not deemed sufficiently recovered to allow for a brief visit before I left Amber. His Majesty Corwin of Paris deemed that last night's events, which I trust will have been or shall soon be fully described to you, make his speedy return to his own city more urgent, and thus the morning has proven full of too much done in too little time, as I am expected to accompany the party to the new realm.

I thought it would be remiss of me not to at least pen you a short missive, however, expressing my hopes for you, and offering a farewell. As you have no doubt already gathered, His Majesty Corwin's city is in possession of that which our own city most sadly lacks, and I am expected to assay a short promenade thereupon. No doubt the results of this shall quickly be known by those of the Family remaining in the Queen of Cities.

You have always been much in tune with the doings of Amber's nobility, more so perhaps than any other member of our generation. I take the great liberty of mentioning three delicate matters that you might wish to address, although I hasten to add that I by no means make any requests, far less demands, upon you. I merely lay facts before you, to consider, so that you might decide if you have any interest in using your influence in any fashion upon either of these, in the interest of maintaining peace and a certain grace within Amber.

The first touches upon the matter of Demond Harga'rel. I strongly believe that his relatives will seek vengeance, as is right and proper, but I am greatly concerned that they will do so before sufficient evidence can be accumulated to make a decision on where that vengeance should rightly fall. I need not tell you the harm that a blood feud, set loose upon the wrong target, could do among Amber's nobility. The Harga'rels are sufficiently ancient and powerful to have many enemies, some in Amber and some in other realms. A war started from erroneous conclusions would be most regrettable.

Whether you wish to involve yourself in this matter is, of course, completely your own decision. But, obviously, you wield great influence, if you decide to exercise it.

Secondly, there is the matter of the confrontation between Prince Martin and Dame Aisling. I will not lay the events as I observed them upon paper, I am certain you can find many who will be eager to tell you of the matter, as they perceived it. The one thing I will say is that it was obvious to me that Dame Aisling, for whom I have a certain fondness, does not completely perceive the seriousness of publicly contradicting a Lord of Amber, much less the son of the King. I say this knowing that your sense of humor is such that you might take a certain amusement in the unfolding of events, but trusting that along with that sense of humor is a desire to see things done properly, which can only be done when all parties are sufficiently informed of the rules under which our society operates. I can think of no one better suited to explain things to her, if you so choose.

The final matter is a more personal one. As you may have been told by now, Lord Hardwind passed from this life during last night's events. His lady wife, now widow, is of great importance to my sister. I hear rumors that some members of Lord Hardwind's family might choose this time to press claims on the property of his late Lordship, to the detriment of Lady Hardwind. I find this thought distasteful, and hope that something may be done to point out to such individuals the benefits of gaining the thanks of members of the Royal Family, rather than risking being thought uncharitable and hard-hearted. If you should find, and choose to take, an opportunity to extend this thought, I would take it as a personal favour.

However, I would have you do nothing that taxes nor in any way hinders your recovery. I again wish you a speedy and comfortable recovery.

Vere, Son of Gerard

(his symbol)

Lucas accepts it in a languid, lily-white hand, unfolds it and reads it rapidly, but with attemtion. Once he purses his lips, at another point he half smiles - and once he gives a short nod. Then he sets it down on the table beside him, where there are a few sheets of parchment and a quill in an inkpot. He draws a fresh sheet towards him, and writes something in his bold, sprawling hand, and then folds it, inscribing a name.

"Gaston!" he calls. "Bring your miserable carcase here. I need you to deliver a message."

The lugubrious one approaches, but when he sees the name on the missive Lucas is holding out to him, he gives a heavy sigh and shakes his head.

"They've already left, m'sieur. They'll be well on the road by now."

Lucas frowns, and crushes the parchment into a ball in his hand. He throws it into the fire that his chair is close to, and watches as it catches the flames, and flares up brightly for a mmoment.

"Good fortune, cousin," he says quietly.

 

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I: Lucas recovers | Index | III: Receiving Vialle and Lilly