Late afternoon, and Martin's just come from Salope's quarters, where
she's recovering from her latest attempts to flee the castle. Wanting to
put it out of his mind for a time, he arranges to surprise his cousin,
the Lady Mira of the delicate sensibilities, with a visit. If nothing
else, it'll be a laugh.

Her chambers, he discovers upon being invited to enter, is a confection
of porcelain blue-and-white furnishings, with dainty glass-topped tables
and glass-fronted cabinets, and other fussily feminine details.

Martin enters, looking more than a little grizzled about something.
"Hi," he mutters, closing the door.

Mira sits on the couch, her back to the door. She writes, using the
glass topped table as a desk. She glances back, her eyes for a moment
bright and hopeful before dulling into a polite gaze. "Hello, Martin."

Abundant dark curls frame her pale heart-shaped face, captured by
jeweled pins of sapphire a shade darker than her eyes. Her delicate
features and arrogant tilt of her chin denote a pampered lifestyle,
reinforced by the elegance of her clothing and the poise with which she
holds herself. A powder blue gown cut to her figure adorns her, its
fitted bodice, puffy sleeves and flared skirt traced with embroidered
patterns the color of cream. Gloves of the same shade encase her small
hands, letting a glimpse of milky skin peek through at the wrist. Her
only adornment is a pearl necklace clasped high at her neck like a
choker, its pendant a teardrop sapphire nestled in the hollow of her
throat.

Martin waves a bottle vaguely with his other hand, "came to apologise."

Mira blinks slowly, then rises, turning to face you. "Apologise for
what?" she asks in a guarded tone.

Martin blinks back, glances round the room, returns to Mira. "Uh..." he
slips the bottle discreetly behind his back. "Um. Being late?" he
ventures.

Mira steps away from the couch, moving toward the window. Rainbows
scatter across her face and dress. "I wasn't aware we had a date."

"We didn't," Martin says, wandering into the room, getting a good look
around. "But it was a nice day, and I was going to ask if you'd like
to walk in the gardens with me."

Martin shrugs, smiles, "only a couple of things got in the way. Hence,
late."

Mira stares, a smile warring with stiff neutrality. "You want to walk
with me? After yesterday?"

Martin looks back, surprised, curious, politely puzzled perhaps. "Sure,
why not?"

Mira gives a sharp, mirthless little laugh. "I humiliated myself. I
insulted both of you, and I didn't even manage to apologise well, though
it was one of the few times I've actually meant it."

Martin finds a couch, flops into it. He sets the bottle on the
glass-topped table beside. "So?"

Mira watches, drawing another step toward the window. "So I thought you
would never want to see me again."

Martin sprawls on the couch, arms along the back, grins, "Maybe I'm
giving you another chance. I'm a forgiving type of guy, y'know."

Mira hesitantly approaches, taking a chair opposite the couch. "I'd like
that." she says softly, awkwardly. "I didn't expect to have friends
here, but things would go better for me if I had fewer enemies."

Martin snorts, laughs, "Mira, you haven't been here long enough to have
enemies."

Mira says "But Antonio said I'd made them already."

Martin shrugs, "Maybe you have, maybe you haven't. Anyone tried to kill
you lately?"

Mira shakes her head, laughing nervously. "No. No one has ever tried to
kill me. Just threatened."

Martin smiles, "ah, well, that's normal." He reaches over, sets the
botle before Mira. "Present. It's some kind of honeyed water or
something. Chilled." By means of an explanation, he adds, "you said you
didn't drink."

Mira takes up the bottle and examines it curiously. "That's very kind of
you, Martin." she says, mystified.

"I don't often buy drinks for ladies who don't, so..." he shrugs. "It's
not poisoned, by the way."

Mira relaxes a little and sets the bottle down. "I take wine,
occassionally. I've not drunk socially in some time, though."

Martin nods absently, rests a hand against his brow. The banter seems to
have tired him. "I suppose we'll have to fix that, eh?" he says.

Mira says "Oh, I don't know. Sobriety has its finer points. Are you
alright?"

Martin waves aside her concern, mutters, almost irritably, "I'm fine."

Mira quiets. She bites at her lower lip self-consciously, then says
"I'll walk in the garden if you like."

Martin shakes his head, "tomorrow, maybe. Or the day after." he looks
up, smiles, and it is a tired smile, says good-naturedly, "What the hell
are you looking at me like that for?"

Mira says "You're a very curious person. That's all."

Martin's smile tilts into a lopsided grin. "Good," he says. "So, what
were you so busy writing when I barged in on you?"

Mira glances at the table, leaning over to collect the papers. "A letter
to my father's sister in Deiga. She tends to my lands there."

Martin nods, "Any problems?"

Mira shakes her head, her gaze growing somewhat distant. "Just letting
her know my Uncle has allowed me to stay in Amber, so that she will be
tending to them for awhile longer."

Martin says "Nice place, your estates?"

Mira shrugs and says "Deiga is a pretty place, but it isn't Amber."

Martin doesn't comment. "But it's your home," he says. No accusations,
just curiosity.

Mira says "Amber was my home, once."

Martin says "But you're not sure if it is anymore"

Mira lowers her lashes and murmurs "My uncle has allowed me to stay, but
it isn't like it was."

Martin ohs?

Mira gestures vaguely, her voice quiet "I used to be everyone's darling.
Mother and Uncle Eric -" her voice catches a little on the name and she
sighs. "They protected me from everything. Now he's dead, she's gone,
and well, no one else cares."

Martin shrugs, stretches, settling himself more comfortably on the
couch. "It happens. People currently have a lot more to worry about.
They see you walking around, figure you must be doing okay."

Mira nods, becoming a bit more animated as she replies "I know, I don't
expect to be doted upon. It's just that I'm not used to anything else.
That must sound horrible."

Martin nods, without much sympathy. "You could have brought a few dozen
servants along, I suppose. Make you feel at home."

Mira shakes her head. "No, no. I don't /want/ to be doted on. That's
just it."

Martin mutters, "Then what's your problem?" His eyes close for just a
moment, and stay closed.

Mira says "I'm adjusting. That's all. I won't learn unless I just throw
myself into this situation. When I've settled, Uncle Gerard says he will
give me something to do, then it will all be fine. I'll have something
to focus on."

Martin mutters, "So how're you doing so far?"

Mira sighs and mumbles, "Honestly?"

Martin nods vaguely.

Mira says "Terribly."

Martin hehs, mumbles something that might be, "ain't that the truth."

Mira leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. She stares quietly,
lashes narrowed just a touch.

Martin's breathing seems to be growing steadily more relaxed, and he's
looking very comfortable.

Mira says sharply. "You are not falling asleep in here."

Mira rises, sidestepping the table toward the couch. Her foot nudges
his. "I mean it. It will look bad."

Martin smiles lazily, eventually, mutters, "nice couch you got here."

Mira says awkwardly. "Thank you." She nudges his foot again. "But you
can't sleep on it."

Martin kicks out absently with the foot that's being nudged, resettles
himself, says something that sounds like, "mghfst".

Mira mutters and steps to the side, reaching out to shake his arm. Her
tone is distressed as she says "No. Bad Cousin."

Martin raises an eyelid at Mira. "Bad cousin?" he says, quite
distinctly, and very awake.

Mira lets go instantly and steps back, stopped by the table mid-step.
"You can't sleep there. If someone sees you it will look bad."

Martin repeats, both eyes open now, voice rising. "Bad cousin? The best
you could come up with was 'Bad cousin'?"

Mira frowns. "What was I supposed to say, 'Get thee behind me,
Serpent?'"

Martin stares up at Mira, disbelieving, "You could have thrown some
water in my face."

Mira gestures indignantly. "And stain my couch?"

Martin snakes an arm out around Mira, yanks her towards the couch. And
probably on top of him, incidentally.

Mira gives a sharp, surprised yelp and flails, tangled in her skirts.
"What are you doing?!"

Martin oofs, catching Mira towards him, and getting a faceful of
whatever it is women wear so much of. "Teaching you a rule of life...
umph"

Mira squirms, taking handfuls of couch for leverage to push herself off
of him. "Are you crazy!"

Martin does his best to wrap his arms around Mira, "Rule of Life 1:
Don't get  close enough to get caught. Ack. Take it easy, will you,"
he laughs.

Mira gives a final kick, tangling her skirt around her leg, and goes
limp and sullent. Her hair falls nearly loose of the combs binding it,
sliding down one side of her face inelegantly. "I should slap you." she
informs.

Martin grins round at his armful of sullen Mira, "I think I'd enjoy that
too much." He muses, "although you could be right: I am crazy. What the
heck do I do with you now?"

Mira mutters, "The moment you release me I am going to wail on you like
you've never been beaten before."

Martin laughs! "Is that a promise?"

Mira growls softly. "Take it as you will."

Martin says, affronted, "if you keep this up, I'm going to think you're
mad at me."

Mira wriggles. "I am, you insolent man. Furious. You're /touching/ me."

Martin tightens his grip (but not too tightly), bounces her up on his
knee. "No shit," he grins, "byt the way, Mira. You're *very* nice to
hold."

Mira squeals indignantly and twists to look up at him. "It's your own
reputation you're ruining." she says airily. "I don't know why I should
care."

Martin blinks innocently, "What reputation?"

Mira says cooly. "I assure you I can make it worse."

Martin shakes his head, smiles, "Nobody cares, Mira. Get over it,
already. Now, you tell me what you did wrong, and what you should have
done, and I'll maybe let you go, ok?"

Mira sighs. "I got too close and you grabbed me?"

Martin ahs, "so what should you have done instead?"

Mira mutters "Thrown a vase at your head."

Martin grins, "good start."

Mira says quietly "Now let me go or I'm serious, I'm going to just start
hitting."

Quite unexpectedly, Martin lets go of you and pushes you off.

Mira crawls to the far end of the couch and fusses with her skirts
indignantly. "And people do care. If they didn't I wouldn't be so
mortified."

Martin grins, "well, if they knew you were the sort of girl to throw
vases at people who'd fallen asleep on her couch, they wouldn't fall
asleep there in the first place."

Mira says "I didn't know you were going to pounce on me like some
ruffian."

Martin shrugs, stretching. "Rule of Life 2: Expect the worst."

Mira says cattily "I got it, too." She rearranges her hair, giving up on
the combs and letting it fall free around her face. "Look what you've
done."

Martin mms, admiringly, "that looks a lot better actually."

Mira says quietly, "I don't want to look better."

Martin quirks a brow, "No? What do you want then?"

Mira shakes her head. "I don't know. I don't want to be touched. I hate
that."

Martin stares, shakes his head, leans back his end of the couch,
regarding Mira. "Let me tell you a story," he says. "It's about this guy
I know, a bit like you, actually."

Mira settles back, making a futile attempt to untangle her curls into
some semblance of order. "Alright. If you want."

Martin nods, "why, thank you." Continuing, "okay, maybe he wasn't like
you exactly. He wasn't anyone's pet darling. But he was young, and he
was used to things working out a certain way. A nice way, if you like."

Mira nods slowly.

"He met a nice man," Martin goes on. "Who told him that the world wasn't
really all nice, but the kid didn't listen, and went off on his way. He
thought he knew everything, you see."

Mira says dryly "So far."

"Then he met another man," Martin's expression tenses. "Who was much
nicer than the first man. This man told the kid that the first man was
wrong: the world was a nice place, everything did work like the kid
thought it should, which made the kid happy. He'd finally found someone
who understood him, who felt like he did."

"You know what that nice man did then?" Martin says, rather than asks.

Mira tilts her head, curious despite her inherent cool expression.
"Grabbed you when you weren't looking?"

"Something like that," Martin says. "Only I was looking, and I still
didn't see it."

"And some day," he finishes, "I'm going to return the favor, and stick
one in his ribs."

Mira asks "What did he do to you?"

Martin fixes Mira with a dark gaze a long while before he says, "He
betrayed me."

Mira asks quietly. "Who?"

Martin shakes his head faintly, "No."

Mira lowers her lashes and says "I don't trust anyone. Not anymore."

Martin observes, "You let me in, let me fall asleep on your couch, let
me grab you.

"you're still within arm's reach, incidentally."

Mira nods and says "And I suspect you'll do the worst."

Martin shakes his head, "Wake up, Mira. Open your eyes. Pay attention.
If I wanted to hurt you, I would have. You make it damned easy."

Mira nods. "I know." she says.

Martin raises a hand to his temple, massages it. "So why d'ya let me in,
let me get so close to you, if you don't trust me?"

Mira keeps her gaze averted. "I think some corner of my mind gets sick
satisfaction out of having my worst assumptions confirmed. I'm far safer
hating you than giving a damn, so if you humiliate me, anger me, insult
me, I'll have cause. I didn't think you'd have any reason to kill me, so
what have I lost?"

Martin regards Mira, "What happened here? What really happened? Your
hair got mussed, you felt stupid, some guy got his arm around you.
Whoop. You could've been dead instead."

Mira looks at Martin. "By your hand? I don't think so."

Something flashes behind his dark gaze, "Want to test that?"

Mira shakes her head. "No, I don't. Why do you think I didn't hit you
when you let me go? If it were Antonio, I would never have gotten within
arm's reach. I know he'd slit my throat just to watch me bleed. I just
don't think you'd have the incentive. I'm no threat to you, but my blood
on your hands would be."

Martin says levelly, "The threat of blood doesn't scare me, Mira. Not
anymore."

Mira shakes her head. "No, but the Regent has accepted me back, with the
thought to set me to a task. It stands to reason then that he has at
least something of a vested interest in my life?"

Martin says "Charity's not the same thing as respect"

Mira says "Can you look me in the eye and tell me you came here to kill
me?"

Martin smiles, just a little, "Is that what you think this is about?"

Mira shakes her head. "I know your point. Mine is I took a chance and I
cashed in. Not bad for a little fool, hm? There's something about you.
Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I don't think so, because I look for
the worst in everyone."

Martin sighs, slaps his hands on his knees, "Well, maybe it'll teach you
to be such an optimist. You can't afford to make slip-ups once, never
mind twice."

Mira leans back and shrugs. "You said yourself no one cares. Maybe I
liked you enough to take the chance."

Martin grins, getting to his feet, "You still should have thrown the
vase at me."

Mira says "I thought about it, but then I figured you'd really be mad
and probably hit me." She smiles faintly.

Martin considers, making his way to the door. he grins, "Actually, I
would have ducked, and you wouldn't have got your hair messed up."

Mira smirks. "Well then, in the end it turned out the same, except now I
think you're a liar, which is just as well." She props her feet
comfortably on the couch, dangling an arm over the back lazily as she
regards him.

Martin gestures vaguely, "there's no pleasing some people." At the door,
he turns, executes a bow, "good evening, cousin."

Mira sighs faintly. "Good bye."

"Still want to walk with me?" he asks, half out the door.

Mira says "Strangely enough, I do."

Martin smiles, "good."

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28/11/97