fighting_mad | (no subject)

(no subject)

It would be startling, if anyone were watching. One moment, the empress is leaving the banquet hall in a poorly-hidden bad temper, and the next, a dark-haired aide is suddenly by her side as they step through the archway and continue down the corridor.

Plourr glances over her shoulder, but no one at the table appears to have been looking.

The corridor--walls steely blue, and floors a dark gray shining marble--is simple and empty, but for a guard who turns the corner and bows his head respectfully as he passes. Plourr tips her head in return, and she looks back again as they round the corner. No one appears to be staring or coming after.

Her evil plan is working?

"Welcome to Eiattu."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Old money, is what she thinks when she sees them, and for a moment her lips press together.

But a princess is a princess, and the expression fades.

"Rial's mother?"

They're passing years of emperors and empresses with every couple of steps. Plourr doesn't notice it anymore. She tosses a glance at Ajedrez. "What about her?"

"Just clarifying she is."

"Well, if the granddaughter and raging hostility parts didn't tip you off, I don't know what would," she says, but there's no real bite to the sarcasm. "Yes, Rial's mother, and my great aunt. My father was Rial's father's favorite nephew."

Beat.

"That's the part that tends to confuse people."

"I was a little more concerned with trying to not be visible," she points out.

"Yeah," she says, fixing her with a stare, "you did that real well. What the kriff happened to letting me do the talking?"

"You were flailing. There is a moment for a pause, and a moment too long before it gets noticable."

Plourr is unimpressed.

"There's a fundamental difference between flailing and being in the process of opening my mouth to answer," she says. "And I don't flail."

She pauses at the end of the line of portraits, and taps the wall twice. A panel slides open silently, and she make a (slightly sarcastic) 'after you' sort of gesture to Ajedrez.

Mildly,

"But you covered it beautifully, chica." And then she stops.

There is a secret passage.

"So. Um. How about I claim amnesia and thus can't remember anything, and I work for you."

And play in the secret passages.

Plourr's face screws up in bemused confusion. "Sure. Why?"

Her face is glowing.

"You have secret passages."

"--Oh, right, that's unusual, isn't it?" She rests her hand on the wall, leaning in the opening. "There's a maze of them all through the palace. They've been a problem a couple of times in terms of security, but they saved my life, once, when I was a girl." She pats the doorway once, looking in to the darkness. "I'm not about to wall them up."

"We have a couple in the family compound, but more tunnels. Not...passages like this."

Although, as soon as she is getting back, and manages not to get killed, she's going to go investigating. The place is old enough.

"You'd be amazed, the places these come out," she says, and there's something of the wild little girl who spent more time exploring these passages than studying in her smile as she steps through. "C'mon, slowass," she says over her shoulder.

It's pitch black, and for a moment she stops. Not fear, not as such, just caution. Then, in the darkness,

"Who ya callin slowass?" And she starts to walk forward.

And promptly runs into Plourr's back.

Plourr makes a wordless noise of complaint as she lights a glowrod, and she says, "You." The passage--floored, walled, and ceilinged in economical gray--flashes to life, extending as far as the eye can see, and Plourr swats back at Ajedrez, her face casted in the red light of the glowrod. "Watch it."

A wicked little grin as she raises her hands in surrendor.

"Of course, your Majesty."

Possibly, there are footsteps coming. Possibly, there is someone whistling and possibly, he sounds a lot like Rial.

Possibly he hasn't noticed them yet, being out of their light.

Plourr tenses when she hears the footsteps, starts to shield the glowrod and go for the holdout blaster that she keeps strapped to her arm under her sleeve -- but then she hears the whistle echoing off the walls, and she relaxes.

"Hey, Pernon. Your mother's looking for you," she calls. "Hiding, are we?"

The whistling stops, and Rial comes around the corner, his own glowrod slightly dimmer.

"Yup. And so are you, I see." Hasn't quite noticed Ajedrez yet.

"Nah," she says. "Too late for that, anyway. I already got ambushed. I'm just taking the new aide here to the armory." She steps out of the way, leaving the woman behind her clearly visible in the light provided by the glowrods.

"Ah, well, that's good." He peers at the aide, thoughtfully, then pauses.

"Excuse me, miss, you look very familiar. Do I know you?"

"I'm sure I couldn't possibly say, your Consortship," the aide says a little breathlessly.

In what stands out as being an American-Mexican accent.

(Plourr is snickering, for the record.)

"...Beatriz?"

Rial turns a confused gaze on Plourr, waiting for some sort of explanation.