The morning after the Coronation Masque Debacle finds Solange at a small table on one of the garden terraces, sipping at a cup of the Land of Peace coffee, and contemplating the toast-rack and the bowl of hothouse fruit set before her.  There's a broadsheet by the side of her plate, but she hasn't summoned the courage to look at it yet.

Robin emerges from around a stand of trees a number of yards away from the terrace, yawning and stretching.  A vigorous two-handed ruffling of her short blonde hair removes most of the leaves and twigs.
            She's back in Ranger gear; brown trews, green leather jerkin, pine shirt, belt with pouches and comfortably, finally, a sword in scabbard.  Her clothing is somewhat rumpled and ever-so-slightly dirty but Robin's light free movements make them far more attractive than what she wore to either Coronation or Masque.  There's a rightness there that no amount of tailoring can match.
            The girl's button nose rises to the wind.  Oh, there's toast in the air.  And her bright green eyes swivel terrace-ward.  When she sees that it is Solange there, a moment of hesitation comes over Robin.  But then, she smiles and starts walking toward the terrace.
            As she approaches, she says companionably, "May I join you, Solange?  Or would you prefer to be alone?"

"Have a seat," Solange offers, her voice amiable.  "Do you want some coffee?"  She reaches for the pot, and then blinks.  "Oh.  Right.  Only one cup."  She looks around for a footman, but none materialize instantly.  "Want some of my coffee?" she corrects herself.

"Thanks."  Robin hops up the stairs to the terrace and puts one hand on the back of a chair – thinks about it – then pulls the chair out and sits down on frontwise. Taking Solange's cup, Robin swigs from it in a way that says "Germs?  What're those?"
            "Mmmm.  That's pretty good."  The Ranger looks into the cup.  And empties the rest of it in one long swallow.  "Thank you."
            Once the cup is drained, Robin carefully sets it back down before Solange and refills it from the pot.

Solange drinks some more coffee.  She gestures in a vague "help yourself" way at the toast and the fruit.  (Butter dishes and jam pots are implied as well.)
            "What's on your mind?" she asks.

"Lots of things, really."  Robin butters up a piece of toast with a nod of thanks to Solange.  The girl cocks an eyebrow to Solange with a 'you really up for this?' look.  But evidently she decides that Solange wouldn't have asked if she wasn't.
            "You and Dad.  Me and Vere.  You and me.... Mom." She ends softly.  "Did you want to..." the girl shrugs a little helplessly, sympathy in her green eyes, "I don't know, talk about any of that.
            A wry twist of her mouth indicates that Robin knows she's fumbling the conversation, but she just doesn't quite understand how to be intimate with a stranger.

"Yes and no," Solange answers, with a similar quirk to her mouth.  "That is, yes, I want to talk about it, but no, I haven't got the faintest idea where to start either."  She takes a piece of toast for herself, then looks at Robin with a mock-stern frown.  "Although I'll say this -- even if you are my sister, and Vere's my cousin, if you make my brother unhappy I *will* be upset."  She can't hold the frown any longer, and breaks into a grin.

Robin's earnest green eyes meet Solange's, at first bashful and then at the grin, lighting up with joy.  "Oh, thank you, Solange!"  Only the toast in one hand keeps the girl from clapping happily.  "I promise..." she gets that far and then thinks about it.
            "Solange?  Given what we are, I think Vere and I are going to have some... amazing disagreements in our future.  But, but... if he ever gets unhappy – he'll win.  Just like that.  When he's unhappy, it hurts inside."  Robin crosses her arms across her stomach, remembering.  "Like I'm sick or something.  I just... can't do that to him."
            She looks to Solange, helplessness in her eyes.  Robin doesn't understand the vulnerability or where it came from, but can't deny that it's there.

"Huh," is Solange's only comment.  She remains quiet for a moment, trying to digest the implications.  Deciding that she has nothing more intelligent to say on the subject, she promptly changes it.
            "There was something else I was wondering about," she continues.  "The Isles.  *What's* going on there?  And if I get involved, will it help, or will I just make things worse?  I never thought of it as my problem before, but I guess it is now.  Or is it?"

"Oh, Verde."  Robin curses dispiritedly.  And takes a bite from her toast as she ruminates.  "It's political.  Which means I didn't pay much attention."  Another wry twist of her mouth accompanies that.
            "Also, I got the feeling that *I* could make it much worse real easily.  So I tried to stay as clear of the political as possible.  You know, keep it to the personal."  She shrugs.
            "Vere and Dad've got a pretty good feel for what's going on.  They make it sound like a good old counter-revolutionary coup with a bit of blood-religion thrown in for spice.  Aaannnd I get the feeling that there's something spooky about... Mom in the mix.
            "There was something about Mom being reckoned a Goddess.  But even if they just inherit matrilineally – which is a distinct possibility – I'm thinking that Mom's daughters ought to be real, real careful before making an open appearance. " 
            She raises an eyebrow to Solange.  "That Vianis woman was definitely licking her lips at the taste of me just as Julian's daughter.  If she figured out that...  I don't know.  Think it would be bad."  Robin frowns in contemplation.
            "As far as it being your problem, Solange?"  The Ranger shrugs.  "Only if you want it to be."

"It's WAY over my head," Solange confesses.  "I've been trying to wrap my mind around the idea that people would think I was a god -- or goddess, or whatever -- and I just can't do it.  I grew up HERE, where nobody really takes gods seriously."  She concentrates for a moment on getting her toast spread Just So with marmalade. 

As Robin watches her... sister tend to her breakfast, a little 'oh' light pings in her eyes, and an ironic smile dances across her lips briefly.
            When Solange looks back at her, the Ranger shrugs non-committally.  She's definitely one of those who doesn't take godding too seriously, either.

"Would it be a useful strategy to stay away for now, and then if things get really hairy, come blasting in and do a Wrath of God shtick and just *make* things go the way Vere says they ought to?   Would it make a difference if there were two of us, both showing up as her daughters?  Would they buy it? And have we got the resources?" She pauses to eat some toast and drink more coffee, then refills the cup and pushes it over towards Robin.  "I did have some other things I wanted to do in the meantime."

"Hunh."  Robin grunts as she digests Solange's question.  She picks up the cup with a nod of thanks and takes a thoughtful swig.
            "Listen, Solange.  That place – the Isles? – they're poised.  Even more so after my and Jovian's little romp there.  I'd be really leery of doing any blasting -- or even showing -- without a good advance scout around and some serious inside intel."
            She leans back in her chair and takes another long swig of coffee.  "See, the local magics are pretty damn strong.  Strong enough to take one of Us down if we're stupid enough to stand still."  She grins. 
            "And I'm not that sure... I mean with family involved, it's always a good idea to be know where they stand before you start messing with their homeland.  And as far as the Wrath of God thing goes?  Really, Solange.  Unless you've got some practice at that, I wouldn't try it before an experienced audience."

Solange smiles ruefully, acknowledging her lack of practice.

She puts the cup back down on the table, refills it and leaves it between the two of them.  "I can't tell you what to do, but given that Dad, Vere and Uncle Gerard have a *far* better idea of what's going on there – and how best to deal with it -- *my* strategy is to sit tight right here.  And be the howitzer that they pull out of their back packet if they need it."

"I like that plan," Solange says.  "Except for the 'right here' part.  I want to do some scouting of my own, but not about that."

"Yeah."  Robin admits with a grin.  "'Right here' for me means back in Arden."  The Ranger looks up at the tall walls leaning over the terrace and extending out around the gardens, like arms clutching the greenery to a dressed stone bosom.  She grimaces briefly, and sends a rueful smile to Solange.  "Can't be soon enough for me."
            "You going to scout at the Isles or somewhere else?"  Robin asks as she reaches for another piece of toast, a thoughtful crinkle to her brow.  Solange's idea of breakfast seems very.... vegetarian to the Ranger.

"Somewhere else.  From the sound of it, about as far away from the Isles as I can get!  I'm planning to search for healers," she says.

"Oh, uh...." Robin becomes very interested in the toast, "For your father?"

Vere, having questioned the servants until he obtained Solange's current whereabouts, has finally determined that she is breaking her fast on the garden terrace.
            One of the doors to the terrace opens and Vere steps partway through.  As he sees his sister sitting with her sister he pauses, and raises one
eyebrow.  "I do not wish to intrude," he says.
            He is wearing sturdy travelling clothes, in subdued shades of dark grey and blue.

Robin stands as though drawn to her feet by sheer lightness, not even noticing.  She beams happily to Vere.  But it's not her breakfast, so she looks over at Solange.

"I don't think you are," Solange says.  "But I think, if you join us, that we're going to need more food."

Vere nods to Solange, "I will see to it," he says.  He looks at Robin and smiles, "I hope you slept well," he says gently.  "I will be back in a moment."

Dung.  It's hard to look mature and competent in front of Solange with the shit-eating grin on her face.  But Robin can't seem to help it.

Solange looks tolerantly pleased and amused, not anything worse, although she's trying to conceal the amusement with a "lalalalala, I'm just drinking my coffee, nothing to see here" attitude.

As Vere turns back toward the Castle – and the view just gets better – Robin rolls her eyes at herself and drops back into her chair.
            "Oh, Vere!  Coffee cups!"  She calls after him as the thought occurs to her.

"Good thinking," Solange says,  before refilling her cup and offering it to Robin again.
            (Yes, this works.  Largish silver coffeepot.  Smallish china cup and saucer, not the big honkin' mugs I have in my house.  Not all the good china got broken in the Sundering, and the servants seem to be happiest when the Royals let them use the fancy things, so Solange lets them, even if she'd be perfectly content with earthenware.)

He steps back into the castle, catches the attention of a waiting servant, and requests more food be brought to the three of them on the terrace.  "I think," he tells the servant, "It would be well to have eggs, a goodly quantity of ham, perhaps some cold roast if it is available, a few more selections of fruit.  And of course more toast."
            "And coffee cups, if you would be so kind," he adds.

"Sorry," Robin mutters to Solange.  That's got to be the height of couth, eyeing her brother's ass right in front of her.

"For what?" Solange asks, offering Robin the courtesy of pretending that she hadn't noticed.  It's actually that it didn't upset her.  She's not unaware that her brother has a nice butt, even if she's not interested in it for herself.  It's about TIME someone was interested in it, and also about time that Vere NOTICED that someone was interested.  Yeesh.

"Thanks, Solange." Robin chuckles wryly, taking the coffee cup from her sister, grateful for both offerings.

He steps back onto the terrace and joins the ladies.

Robin is chuckling ruefully at herself, but the sight of him emerging into the dawn's light changes the rue to just plain and simple happiness.

"Come, sit down," Solange encourages him.

As Vere sits the ladies notice that he has two feathers braided into his hair, on the right side.

Robin's eyes sparkle at the sight of Vere's ornament.  And in the back of her mind, the Ranger starts designing others made specifically for his flowing hair, colors and coloring.   
            Leaning back in her chair, Robin glances around the table.  Kin.  Who'd thought it?  Kin, not 'Family.'  She smiles fondly down into her coffee cup and takes a swig.
            Underneath the table though, her booted foot seeks out Vere's.

Vere smiles, and sits silently as servants bring more food and extra cups.  Once they have left he asks, "I hope you both are well this morning?"  He is speaking to both of them, but his eyes keep straying to Robin's face.

Robin's green eyes come up from the contemplation of her cup with a warm glow.  That disappears as her face pales and her eyes widen with shock at the sight that greets her behind Vere's shoulder.

"Ah, coffee!  The second thing I intended to seek out this morning!  Good morning, all."  Bleys is striding up as the servants leave.  "If you all will forgive the intrusion, I have a few questions I must ask Robin about last night's intruder."

A startled squawk emerges from the girl.  Verde!  First Random at the Coronation, then Corwin at the Masquerade, and now *this* particular bastard!  Robin closes her eyes briefly and takes a deep breath.  You're out of the woods now girl, you're going to have to deal.
            When she opens her eyes again, the Ranger is calm.  Cold, yes, but willing to behave civilly.  "Of course, Your Highness.  Whatever I can do to help Brita."

Vere frowns at Robin's reaction, but by the time he turns his head towards Bleys he has smoothed all trace of expression from his face.  He nods slightly in greeting, but does not respond verbally.
            Under the table he presses his foot against Robin's.

Robin keeps her eyes and her attention focused on Bleys, but her foot taps a thanks against Vere's.

"Would you prefer I weren't present, Uncle?" Solange asks.  However, she's looking sympathetically at Robin while she does.

"No, no, don't disturb yourself, unless speaking of Cleph is likely to put you off your breakfast," Bleys says. His winning smile isn't winning anyone in this company, but he's too used to it to put it away.

He turns to Robin, "Now, niece, pray tell me how you found this Cleph and what he did, every detail you can remember. Even the small things may prove important later."

"Brita was tracking him, Your Highness, I was keeping over-watch.  We had entered the..." Robin realizes that she has no idea what the proper name for that type of nook is, so she settles for, "area, when Brita indicated that she wasn't able to pick the quarry out of the crowd.  Nor was I."
            "I..." she swallows, "managed a small Pattern conjuration.  To see if anything startled.  Nothing did.  But after that both Brita and I noticed a figure leaning, relaxed, in the doorway.  It was between us and the main hall.  It was clothed and carried itself similarly to Prince Caine, Your Highness.  However, I am not familiar enough with the Prince to know how near the imitation was."
            "Its first words were 'Looking for someone?'"  Robin echoes Cleph's intonation and accent as best as she can.  "Brita quoted that Death waits for no man.  And it replied, 'All things come to those who wait.  Is it Death, then, that you seek?'"  Again, the Ranger gets as close as she can to Cleph's voice.
            "During this time I completed a slightly more complex manipulation of Pattern forces."  The girl presses her lips together.  The Ranger does *not* want to talk to Bleys about her abilities *whatsoever*, but she also knows that these are crucial details.  "The thing did not respond to my action in any way."
            "Brita indicated that one didn't need to seek Death.  And asked what Death sought.  At this point I offered it a drink.  Or the chance to dance."  Robin keeps her expression as blank and emotionless as possible.
            "It responded 'No, thank you.  But I am a bit peckish.'  At which point its far hand began to move so."  The Ranger does her best to imitate the first few gestures she saw, while carefully keeping any power she has turned off.
            "I cannot repeat them accurately, Your Highness, as there are too many bones in my hand and the tendons only work the joints one direction.  A sapphire light grew from its palm as it gestured."  Robin drops her hand to the table.  If Bleys needs to see the rest, she can try to reproduce them.  But she doesn't want to complete the sequence.   Just in case.

Through all of this Vere simply observes silently.

Bleys listens intently to the recitation, his eyes locked tight on Robin's.  He probably doesn't notice that his head is very slowly tilting to the right as he leans minutely closer.  He occasionally nods, as if Robin has confirmed some suspicion or corroborated some report.  His eyebrows tick up just noticeably when Robin mentions offering Cleph a drink or a dance.
            "All before the crash we heard, of course.  What happened next?  Did he do anything with the sapphire light?"

The snake and bird analogy pops into Robin's mind at this point in her conversation with Bleys and the girl does all she can to make sure that she *doesn't* get too focused on the Prince.  She consciously makes note of the feeling of Vere's foot next to hers, the sound of Solange's breathing, the smell of the coffee.  And she definitely does her best to blink and look away from Bleys' eyes.

Bleys straightens and smiles encouragingly.  He continues to focus on Robin as she continues the report.

"I believe it did, Highness.  We were seventeen feet away from it at this point.  There were two people directly between us, and four more moving to cross the line of conversation in short order.  I threw a small ornament at the light source and Brita began pushing through the intervening persons."
            "The creature made a pushing gesture with its glowing appendage and everything non-secured to its devant was thrust away with... quite adequate force.  Myself, Brita, passersby and the furniture were all displaced but not the fixtures or walls.  I am unable to estimate how far we would have been blown had not the rear wall intervened."  An ironic tick moves one corner of Robin's mouth, the crash and scream explained.

The prince nods.

"Brita and I were the first to our feet."  Of course.  "I began a ranged barrage of wreckage while Brita drew her hammer and moved forward to engage.  My missiles had varied success in hitting the target," a flicker in Robin's eyes indicates that *that* is not usual,  "but the same in effecting it.  The creature shrugged off what got through."
            "But as Brita drew on it and charged, the creature smiled and drew a sword.  It leapt much of the intervening distance between us aiming a... very strong blow at Brita."  Robin nods thoughtfully.  She's seen Corwin, Benedict and this man fight.  And considers the blow that Cleph swung to be a pretty good one.  "It ground Brita to a halt and she was hard pressed to block the blow."
            "In response to a comment of mine, the creature named itself.  'Cleph goes where he wills.'"

"Cleph is Dara's brother and if he's saying that, even if it is not true, then he intends to be a great Lord of Chaos.  I'm not convinced he's got what it takes, but it sounds like he will before too long.  The good news is that he no longer has Brita.  Did you happen to notice if any of your blows caused him to bleed?"

A sigh of relief passes through the Ranger at the news that Brita is no longer in Cleph's control, but the fact that *that* is all the Prince can relay is not lost on Robin.
            Robin tchs her tongue in answer to Bleys' question.  "It was wearing dark absorbent clothing, Your Highness.  And I never managed to score on exposed soft tissue.  It caught most of my shots on its cloak."  A flicker of Robin's eyelids indicates that this, again, is not something she's used to.  "I can't say for certain whether it had bled or not at that point."
            "Later, Brita gouged one of its eyes out and Prince Julian stabbed it through the right shoulder.  My visibility was limited by then, but I didn't see any blood.  And there was none on the floor when I investigated afterward."

Vere gives a brief nod of agreement.  The only blood on the floor of the room has been a considerable distance away from the area of the fight, presumably caused during Cleph's first attack.

Bleys says, "How unfortunate. I'll have to get some from him the hard way, later. Niece, pray continue your narrative. After Cleph and Brita began to spar and he pompously pronounced his intentions, what happened?"
            He resumes his serpentine stare.

Vere tilts his head to one side, and goes from quietly observing the conversation to intensely studying Bleys.  It has occurred to him that their uncle is aware of the effect that his attention is having on Robin, and seems to be deliberately playing on it.  This is very interesting, and Vere is taking the opportunity to get a feel for what's going on behind those charming eyes.

Robin represses a shudder, instead concentrating the cold burn in the back of her mind.  Cleph may have mauled and kidnapped one Ranger, but how many did the man so cheerfully sitting across the breakfast table from her murder?
            "She was clearly overmatched. Cleph bound her weapon and was easily countering her attacks.  It was then that I called for back-up."  Robin purses her lips and blows a short quiet whistle.  However, there is no meaning to her tones.
            "Cleph landed a blow to Brita's head that dropped her to her knees.  I stepped up the aerial bombardment.  To no effect."  Robin presses her lips together unhappily.
            "Brita... frenzied, Your Highness. Cleph was easily able to side-step her swing.  It dropped its sword and grappled Brita into a tight hold with one arm.  Its other arm was held out oddly."  Robin demonstrates.

Bleys nods.

"Brita fought strongly but was unable to break the creature's grip.  It was murmuring to her, almost crooning.  But I was unable to make out any words or syllables."
            "My father arrived at this point."  Her eyes flicker at Bleys.

"Ah, excellent.  One more question, and then you can resume your interrupted meal."  He speaks very slowly, like a cat nonchalantly pouncing on a mouse.  "What happened," he asks, "to that sword?"  He leans back, stretching in his chair.

"After Brita was taken, Your Highness, I examined the sword where it had fallen.  It looked standard Castle issue to me, though of a particularly dramatic design.  Prince Julian also examined the sword.  However neither of us touched it.  We left shortly thereafter, leaving it behind us unmoved.  I have not seen it or heard of it since."  Robin shakes her head slightly in confirmation of the negative.
            Her brows furrow slightly for a moment, but eventually she just shakes her head again.  She doesn't get it.

Vere nods thoughtfully.

He nods one, decisively, and stands.  "Ah, excellent.  Thank you, Robin.  You have been quite helpful.  We shall have to spend some time together when business does not press us so.  With your leave, Solange, Vere," Bleys nods at Gerard's children.  "I shall leave you to your interrupted prandial conversation."
            Unless he is stopped, he nods and departs.

"You're welcome, Highness."  Robin nods to Bleys as well.  But as far as Robin's concerned, she's going to make sure that business will always be pressing and she certainly doesn't try to stop the Prince from leaving.

"Your Highness," Vere murmurs quietly, with a nod of the head.

Solange does likewise.

Robin's raptor eyes follow the Prince as departs.  A beat.  Then she explodes from her chair with an furious squawk.  Not wanting to leave her companions but not able to remain still, the girl paces the terrace near the table for a moment.  A variety of angry and indignant clucks, hisses and squawks perk from her lips.  Her hands flutter about angrily, though very carefully never draw anywhere near the pommel of her blade.

Vere remains seated and watches her silently for a few moments before saying, in a low, calm voice, "Surely you recognized the tactics, my love?  If one shows fear to a predator one cannot be surprised when the predator responds by showing interest."

"SSssss."  Robin's fierce eyes round on Vere.  Then she hears him and cocks her head, the fire leaving her posture.  Her eyes focus elsewhere and her blonde head bobs for a little as the Ranger quickly relives the conversation from a different vantage point.  Ending with a pained scrunch of her face.
            "Dung!  It was that obvious?"  The question is rhetorical, because if Vere says it was, then it was.  She ruffles her shoulders in a great rueful sigh and stalks back to the table.
            Dropping into her chair, Robin looks at Vere with more than a glint of admiration in her eyes.  Then she gets serious.
            "Okay.  What do I do about it?"  She asks her politically savvy kinfolk.

Vere lifts an eyebrow.  "That depends on what you want to accomplish, of course."  He pauses, watching her.  "You have begun with his awareness of your discomfort around him.  That will color future meetings.  One option is to speak with him and explain why you find his presence so disturbing.  Another is to avoid him until you think you can master that reaction.  A third would be to speak to Prince Julian, explaining what occurred and asking his opinion."  He shrugs, slightly.  "I must admit that I do not know Prince Bleys, this morning was probably the longest period I have yet had to observe him.  I do not think my opinions of him should be completely trusted."

"Hmmmm.  Fair enough."  Robin leans back in her chair as she considers.  "I'm thinking that talking to him might not be such a good idea until – as you have so wisely stated, my love – I can master the desire to stick a knife in him. Yeah.  I'll take it up with Dad."  She nods satisfied.
            Her green eyes look over to Vere, glowing.  "I'm glad that you got a chance to observe."  She grins.  "At least all my squawking like a fledgling catch in the brush is serving some useful purpose."

He smiles back at her and takes her hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Croooon.  Robin losses her place in the world momentarily, lost in Vere's eyes and his touch.

And for a long moment the two of them stare into each other's eyes and smile, oblivious to the world, until Vere catches movement out of the corner of his eye.  It was merely a servant peering out to see if they needed more coffee, but it is enough to remind him of where they are, and he releases his love's hand with a final squeeze.
            He lifts a glass of juice and drinks, silent for the moment.

Solange holds up the pot and nods vigorously at the servant.  More coffee is always good.

Motion... Robin looks around but orients quickly.  A blush and a rueful chuckle are her comment on her own behavior.  To do something with herself, the Ranger snags another piece of toast.
            "So, Solange?  Did you have any idea where you'd start looking?"  The segue master is at it again.

Vere waits for Solange's answer, confidant that it will clear up the mystery of what Robin is talking about.

"That would be the hard part, wouldn't it?" Solange answers.  "I haven't exactly traveled much.  The state of the medical art in Lauderville, where I went to university, hadn't gotten anywhere near the stage of total functional regeneration, which is ideally what I'd want.  There were some popular entertainments there set in a world where that sort of thing was common -- fictional there, of course, but that's not to say I couldn't look for an analogue.  Besides, it might be fun to get to travel on a starship... But that's going to have to wait for a few days, at least.  I have to go call on Aunt Felicity this morning and see if there's anything I can do for her, first.  I owe it to her."

"There's... something's happened to Lady Hardwind?"  Robin's brows furrow as she remembers – she remembers! – the conversation of hounds and hawks from the night before.  Concern swims in her green eyes.

"Lord Hardwind passed immediately after the attack last night," Vere explains gently.  "The servants were eager to spread the news this morning to those who asked the right questions."  He turns to Solange, "I suspected something last evening when Lord Worth called you away so suddenly.  How is she coping?"  Implied, but not said, is the additional question _How are *you* coping?_

"I don't know, yet," Solange answers.  "Last night, she was still in shock -- just as you'd expect.  I'll see how she is this morning.  If staying busy will help keep her sane, I won't interfere -- but if peace and quiet's what she needs, I can make the funeral arrangements, and consult with the cook about the reception afterwards, and all of that.  If I remember rightly, Lord Hardwind had several children by his first wife -- they'll have to be told, too."

"Awwww."  A sympathetic croon comes from the Ranger as a frown pulls her face down.  Her green eyes drift away from the table sadly as she absent-mindedly fingers the china.
            Then the girl looks up to Solange and licks her lips uncertainly.  "Solange?  Do... do you think she'd like a puppy?"  Robin is tentative and uncertain.  It's really none of her business but she kind of liked Lady Hardwind and would like to help her.

Vere quietly takes a long drink from his glass of juice.

"That's a sweet thought, Robin," Solange says.  "I wish it were that simple.  I expect that before the day is out, I'll be meeting with Lord Hardwind's man of business, to see who's set to inherit his estates, and what Aunt Felicity's jointure is, and whether she has lifetime tenancy in the town house, or what.  It's not a good idea to give a puppy to someone who might have to move house very shortly," she finishes regretfully.

Vere frowns.  "Surely," he says, "Whatever the legalities may be, no one would be so foolish as to insist she move if she does not wish to?  She is not without friends who will note such an action."

"And will respond in serious and permanent ways."  Robin seems pretty firm on that point.

"That's good to know," Solange says.  "I'm afraid her stepchildren never really approved of her, and I worry that they're going to press for whatever advantage they can."

"If so," Vere tells her seriously, "Then you should reply in kind.  If they choose to press, you can press far harder."

"Absolutely."  Robin agrees.  "Lady Hardwind is a treasure of Amber and as such merits her protection."
            "Ummm... speaking of protection."  The Ranger moves into a very clumsy segue.  "Listen, Solange.  Father asked me to tell you that he's closed Arden.  Effective last night.  With the King's permission.  However, he wanted you to know that that closure didn't extend to you.  And that you were welcome to come to Arden anytime you wanted.  And that he would be happy if you wanted to work with him and the rangers... sometime."   Robin smiles a little embarrassed smile, the words are awkward but the sentiment and warmth are sincere.

"Wow," is all that Solange manages at first.  Then she smiles.  "I guess that means he doesn't think I screwed up too badly with them before.  I was worried about that.  It got kind of uncomfortable for a while, there."  She drinks more coffee.  "But... *closed* Arden?  How do you close a giant forest?  It's not like you can build a fence around it and put a lock on the gate... and the Rangers can't be everywhere at once... can they?"

A half-smile cocks Robin's lips.  "You'd be surprised how much ground a decent number of Rangers can cover."
            "But no, you don't put a fence around Arden.  What you do is establish a series of perimeter patrols accompanied by winged eyes.  A person or persons may get a little way into the forest.  But they won't get far before the nearest patrol becomes aware of them, intercepts them – and takes action."  Robin presses her lips together flatly with a spark of green in her eyes.

Vere listens with interest while he finishes the food on his plate and begins loading it with more meat.  He doesn't appear to have anything to say on this topic.

"Is it all right to ask *why* he thinks Arden should be closed?  Or is that one of those 'you can tell me, but then you'd have to kill me' areas?"

Robin chuckles.  But as she chuckles, she's thinking about the conversations she's had with her father, checking for privacy indicators.  "I don't think it's a big secret," is what she comes up with.
            "Arden won't be safe for civilians in the future – isn't safe now, in fact.  We'll be going to war with Arcadia shortly."  She takes a quick gulp of coffee that does nothing to hide her enthusiasm.
            "Sooo, if you come into Arden... either of you," she adds with a smile to Vere, "be aware you're entering a combat zone and take reasonable precautions."

Vere nods.  "Indeed," he murmurs.  Whatever his opinion about Robin's attitude towards the coming war may be, it does not show in his voice or expression.

Thread ends as the player of Solange leaves the game.