"Adequate," said the petite redhead, "It took you awhile but you got us here."
"I am not used to multitasking, Mother," the name came easier now but it still rang odd in Roland's ears, "This language, French is difficult. I preferred German or even English or any of the other dozen languages you've taught me. Why this language?"
She, of course, was ignoring him because he was speaking in Thari. With an over dramatic sigh he repeated the question in French.
"Because," she responded in French, "This is the language they speak here. Sometimes, even Lords of Amber must blend in. You could bend this shadow to suit your needs but you would alert those who are sensitive."
"Like whom?"
"Florimel," his mother responded, "As of late this has been he playground and it always interests me when someone leaves for extended periods. I want to know what she is up to. Although I would guess she is following one of her whims."
"Do I get to be introduced to her?" asked Roland hopefully.
She tapped her teeth for a moment and appeared deep in thought.
"No," she said and Roland felt sad, "but I want you to watch her, listen to her, she is an expert at getting what she wants. Fortunately, what she wants appears to be very superficial."
"And the real reason I do not get to meet her is...?"
"Because she would wrap you around her little finger and you would be her favorite toy until she got tired of you. You have too much potential to end up as her 'arm candy.' Any more questions or can we go?"
"Do I have to wear one of those powdered wigs?"
As she rolled her eyes and headed down the street, Roland was sure he caught a hint of a smile. "Only if you don't behave."
It was a party of the grandest order. A full orcastra in the corner, a buffet three times as long as Roland was tall, and powdered wigs everywhere. Roland and his mother had procured some clothing of the local style at a nearby shop. Roland threatened to break the man in half if he continued to sniff down his nose at them. Commoners indeed! There was more true royal blood in Roland's little finger then that fop would see in a lifetime. Besides their money was good and they had a lot of it.
Roland was stationed on the balcony overlooking to main ballroom with strict orders from his mother not to be seen. Now that he was here he was glad that he was not going to participate in the ball. This much decadence disgusted him. So much trivial tripe made to seem important. He stood next to the railing next to the wall and, for all practical purposes, disappeared.
He found Aunt Florimel immediately. She was at the center of things, naturally. She did not look anything like her Trump. She was done up to the nines. He hair was styled so far up her head Roland wondered how she kept from falling over. She was talking to two gentlemen regarding a will and a dowry. As good as his hearing was, because of the noise in the room, he could only make out every third word. Fortunately, Julian's rangers relied on lip reading when stalking prey. He knew exactly what she was saying. Even if it was in French.
After a moment his mother made her entrance. She could turn quite a few heads herself when she chose to. Aunt Florimel saw her as well but she did not move to her. One does not leave the center of attention unless absolutely necessary. So she ignored mother while she made the rounds at the party. It took mother almost forty-five minutes to reach her. When she did, the two men, who were angry about something, took their leave.
"Why, dearest sister, so good to see you," started mother in French.
"I am surprised that you came. I thought you were still abroad," replied Florimel, pretending that she had invited her.
"I would never miss one of you extravaganzas," lied mother.
"Any word on our wayward brothers," asked Florimel.
"None, but I am sure that they will return with grand stories and be treated as the prodigal sons. Especially our eldest brother. He probably grew bored and went looking for a war to win."
"Then I may see him here," said Florimel, "There is always fighting here but they do such a poor job of it. I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up just to chastise them and show them how it's done."
Their conversation was cut short by a sharp crack. Roland smelled gunpowder. The party paused for a moment then continued as if nothing had occurred.
"Well, that takes care of that," smiled Florimel slyly over her wine.
"I suppose it does," responded Roland's mother. They continued to chat for a minute about trivials under Roland's watchful gaze. Then, Florimel excused herself to 'freshen up' and his mother wound her way back to the balcony.
He heard her enter the balcony behind him but he remained still. She searched a bit before looking over by the railing.
"Roland? Where are you boy?"
"Right here, mother," he said quietly from about a foot behind her left elbow. She snapped her head around rapidly and peered at him angrily.
"You shouldn't sneak up on people."
"I didn't, you walked right past me," he said evenly. Her eyes narrowed.
"If you were not hiding, how did you do it?" she asked. Her anger appeared to be subsiding as curiosity took over, "I am not blind."
"It's a trick," he said simply, "You find a place where people aren't likely to look, try to blend in, don't focus to much on any one person or thing, and, most importantly, do not move."
"That sounds very like a very complicated description for an action that is basically no action." She stated, "Did Julian teach you that?"
"No, a Winter Hare did."
"You are observant, I'll give you that," she looked over the railing at the party, "I wish I knew what she was up to. She seems to be concentrating locally."
"She is. Evidently one of the two men she was talking to was giving the other a large dowry for Aunt Florimel. The other was leaving everything to her in his will. They argued, shot each other and now my Aunt owns more than half of the city of Paris."
"How did you come to that conclusion?"
"I'm observant."
"Clever," said his mother staring down at Florimel. Roland was unsure whether she was referring to him or Florimel's scheme. "Since she is so wrapped up here she will not cause to much trouble. Let us leave her to her games."
She turned to her son.
"Now, when we go this time, try to alter our apparel so we blend in when we arrive. That way you do not have to threaten bodily harm to local shopkeepers..."