"Oh, and..." he adds as an afterthought, "... see if you can't get permission for Amber's troops to garrison in the area. They won't like it, but we've got to start putting a military presence in place, in case the kid decides to be unreasonable when he grows up."

And then it was a courier ship and fast horses, to get her there in time for the ceremonies. The shadow is called Karvil... she thinks. It's a center-point for trade into much higher technology shadows, with a monarchy friendly to Amber... but Amber's example of rule by the people has been taking its toll on their authority. The new King is definitely named Conrad. King Conrad the second, in fact, though his fathers name was Alex the... uh... third? So many details to get right so quickly on these rush missions. Awed maids work their familiar magic on Rosalind's formal dress, pressing out the wrinkles that come from carrying it stuffed in her saddlebags halfway across creation.

There's a terrifying moment when it appears that one of Rosalind's slippers has ended up in some Unicorn-forsaken courier post rather than here for her feet. Fortunately, the maid notices that it was merely swept under the couch. And anyway, what were the odds that Rosalind would lose a shoe?

After that all-to-brief respite, Rosalind is walking in procession... ahead of all the other foreign dignitaries, of course. The formal Hall is nice, in a hopelessly overdecorated way. Gold filigree clings to everything like creeper vines. The high stained-glass windows are gorgeous though, climbing like ladders of color between wisp-thin columns of marble. The setting sun pours through golden and wavering.

Conrad is seated on a high throne of dark carved wood. A massive crown of wrought iron sits heavily on his head, crushing his carefully coifed blond hair into a dense mat. From the exhausted, slightly hunted look on his face, the coronation and acceptance of fealty from his own vassals has already taken most of the day. The Queen-dowager, a drawn-looking woman with sad eyes, dressed respectably in black lace, nudges her teenaged son as Rosalind approaches. He forces himself to full attention with a visible effort.

"Your Majesty," she says, "I bring you the condolences of my Uncle, King Random, on the death of your father, and his best wishes on your ascension to your place in the fraternity of kings. King Random remembers Karvil's long friendship with Amber and advises me that he expects it to endure, to our mutual profit, through the many years you will reign."

A quick glance around, then, to see who's paying too much attention, as the local consular officer presents the letters from Random confirming that he keeps his job under the new regime and the gifts Rosalind has brought on Amber's behalf.

Rosalind's eyes move for a moment to the Dowager Queen, to see how she's reacting to all this.

The gifts are, of course, a hit. Particularly the finely made saddle that has been waiting in the embassy for just such an unfortunate occasion. Conrad actually lights up, despite his exhaustion.

After that, even an embassy of Amber must be shuffled politely aside, so many are the guests of a coronation. Rosalind easily makes her way to one of the side arcades, where soft voices can be raised without being heard in the ceremonies, and where much of the politicking of the event will therefore be carried out.

A rugged young man "happens" to be nearby when she enters, with a look of feigned surprise that tells her immediately that he stalked her here after marking her in the ceremony.

"Why, you are Princess Rosalind of Amber, aren't you?" he says. "I am quite honored to meet you. I am Duke Bernhardt Rasch. Perhaps you've... heard of me?"

"Well, I am very glad that Amber has honored us with such a civilized and refined representative. There had been rumors that King Random might choose to send... someone else. I am, you must understand, a great admirer of the recent trend in Amber towards a more enlightened form of government. Indeed, I have been persecuted," here he glances darkly back into the audience chamber at the captain of the guard, "for expressing my belief that Karval must learn from your example. Perhaps we might discuss the matter later, in more privacy?"

"You are very kind," he says with sly insincerity, "and I certainly hope that we may have an opportunity to speak again."

If there are other dignitaries Rosalind needs to schmooze during this little death march of an affair, he'll need to point them out. Rosalind is hoping that there's a fellow of equivalent status she can be seen to chat with who belongs to the King's party, but given the amount of coughing and throat-clearing, she's not particularly sanguine.

If there aren't, Rosalind stays as long as diplomatically necessary in the side arcade before retiring to the Amber embassy to get out of this damned dress and into something more comfortable, such as, she hopes, information.

"Just over there is Duke Jeroen Sterk, probably the most respected of the Loyalists. He is intransigent on the question of the rights of the nobility, which has led to his influence being marginalized, but he is still a very powerful symbol for them. And there, in the midst of that gaggle of admirers is Count Stefan Van Reede. He has more flexible policies, something more of a political shark and rising star, if I may generalize, your Highness. Either should be equally thrilled to speak with you, in the hopes that you would throw them some support."

When she arrives in Sterk's corner, as it were, Rosalind catches Sterk's gaze, but politely does not intrude on his conversation. Neither will she wait long; if Sterk does not speak with her after an exchange with his current conversational partner, she will move onwards.

She pauses, then adds, "I find that my schedule may keep me in Karval for some little while. Perhaps you will be able to call on me at the embassy while I am here."

Unless he has something further to add, Rosalind moves on.

OOC: There's a third named NPC she was going to speak to, but I don't have my archive here to look at. Do you want to play that out or gloss it? He's just going to get the once-over and a broad invitation to call on her at the embassy as well.

OOC: It's Count Stefan Van Reede, and we can gloss over it. Short story: He's polite, and the first to recognize that Rosalind is probably starving... given half a chance he'll lead her over to a little alcove where the staff is discreetly distributing rich finger-foods and coffee, to keep the various nobles on their feet through a day-long coronation. He seems to assume that she is here to implement some plan that has been thought up by her family, and though he's amenable to coming round the embassy, it's clearly a bit of a scary concept to him (since he assumes she could give him -good- news immediately). Bit of a pessimist, but a good-natured one.

In fielding the "after the death-march" questions I will assume that Rosalind and the ambassadorial staff have regrouped at the Embassy and that she is in a meeting of the small-but-competent senior staff. They are awed, and trying very hard to impress.

A strapping, blond young man in uniform with "Academy Trained" all but stamped on his forehead clears his throat, then adds "It may be more than that." Jules glances askance at the young man before grudgingly introducing him, "Captain Romilly is in charge of our riflemen, which gives him quite a bit of time to indulge his fancies."

"It is signals intelligence," Romilly says, "and it is not a fancy. Part of the reason Rausch -is- so wealthy is that he always seems to be a step ahead of events... but that's an illusion. He gets blind-sided by local events as often as anyone, in fact more often. But Karval's fate is intertwined with that of the Golden Circle now, and Rausch never guesses wrong about near-term events in the Golden Circle. It's well beyond any reasonable random chance... the man is being supported by someone with serious connections in one of the major Golden Circle worlds, possibly even..."

Romilly is cut off by Jules who hastily says "Your Highness, please understand that Captain Romilly does not represent the policy of our office. And most of the time he is really quite sensible... a very competent man when he sticks to his area of expertise."

"And what about the sudden death of Conrad's father Alan--no, Alex?"

"Well," the man says thickly, "they won't do an autopsy for religious reasons. We broke into the Cathedral the night before the funeral procession, and took a couple blood samples, plus a few bits and pieces from the organs that would pick up pathogens and poisons. Couldn't get anything much with the equipment on hand, but I had 'em sent out by fast courier to the med-station in orbit on Relay. Probably already there by now, and we should get a response from them in another couple days." He pauses, his brow furrowing with thought, then adds, "... Your Highness."

"Mister Corsini!" Jules says with sharp huffy outrage, "I will remind you that we have a duty to be respectful toward those we must work with here."

Corsini shrugs again, "Just giving Princess Rosalind the facts, the best way I know how. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

Jules is starting to show the stress-fractures of a man put in the position of riding herd on a number of distinct and uncooperative personalities, but he controls it well, saying simply "I'm sure that we all appreciate your candor, but I hope that you can leaven it with a little tact in future."

"Annette," Jules says with a trace of satisfaction, "This is Princess Rosalind. She wishes to speak with you."

Annette looks up from her place crouched amidst an avalanche of papers. Her eyes remind Rosalind strongly of a deer that she once nearly collided with on a motorcycle. There is a long frozen moment, then Annette says "Ah... yes... Honored, of course. I am, that is... honored."

"As for what events you should look into..." she pauses, looking to Jules who shakes his head, then clearly bulls ahead despite his silent advice. "That would depend on how worried you are about Rebma expanding their influence in this area at our expense."

Jules winces and raises a hand to discreetly rub his temples.

"I'm just saying," Annette continues defensively, "that fully more than half of the powerful women in the capital lunch with Rebman emigres, or have lady's maids from Rebma, or are in social salons founded by Rebman philosophers. Duchess Rausch, Missus VanCoeren, Angelina Klopstock, Duchess Sterk... the list goes on. Just because Rebma doesn't have an official embassy doesn't mean that they aren't about to pull this world out from under us."

She adds: "I'll need a list of these notable Rebman emigres, as well."

Rosalind falls silent, then, as if she's putting together the pieces of a puzzle and not particularly liking some of the pictures that result from her efforts.

Jules, no dummy, immediately says "Well of course, now that you have impeccable supervision to make sure that the money is serving Amber, we will put our every resource at your disposal."

Duke Bernhardt Rausch simply shows up on the doorstep of the embassy the next evening, for all the world as if he's expected.

After whatever period of time Rosalind chooses to keep him waiting, the two of them settle down in the embassy's fine dining room (cleared for the occasion, of course) with light fruit plates and a tea service.

Rosalind is aware that her suspicions of him may not be borne out, but that doesn't mean she has to like Rausch.

Having greeted him formally and correctly, if not as the intimate he obviously perceives himself to be, Rosalind lets him speak first. If he has something to say, he'll spit it out quickly. If not, he'll get nervous and let something slip. Either way, Rosalind prefers to let him start the conversation.

Rausch nods firmly, "There are many here who admire his convictions. Karval is ready to follow in Amber's footsteps. Would we have King Random's support, should this happy day come to pass?"

His eyes widen with enthusiasm at the thought of Karval building its own little empire of worlds under Amber's dominion.

The man is obviously distraught. "I've prayed that you can help us," he says before the full course of meaningless social niceties has even been observed. "I feel Karval is approaching a crisis. Even our nobles, who should be acting as role models, begin to value money and property above honor and tradition. Our very wealth will become our undoing. Please, Princess, I beg of you... what can we do?"

She continues: "The attitude of royalty can be key in these matters. How did King Conrad's late father see the role of the nobility?"

OOC: I know that technically she's not inferior and ought not to call him "your grace", but the other way always sounds wrong to me.

Duke Sterk nods at the obvious wisdom of this comment. "True, true," he says gravely, "The late King held us firmly to the course. We were to provide role models, to be exemplary in our behavior, that others might follow. But I cannot forget that what we do best is to fight. Not that any of us desire war... it is simply that our principles of honor and loyalty... they do not appeal so easily to those for whom simple industry and not the bloody sword are the way to achieve their dreams."

Rosalind continues, growing more passionate, "There are those who would say I am unfit to serve King Random as I do because of my sex, but my uncle has given me this duty and I fulfill it to the best of my poor ability. It is my honor and my pleasure. And that is what makes a noble fit for his estate.

"Birth and blood and breeding are all important, but it is the heart and spirit of a man which make him fit to lead. If that is not tested, it can rot, as you have said yourself. But the price of the testing is accepting that you might fail, and that others whom you deem less worthy might prove better than you expect them to be."

Perhaps realizing that her voice has become a little too loud, Rosalind stops and looks at Sterk to see if he understands what she is saying.

"The noble houses of Karval are not afraid to be tested," he says with pride. "We relish the opportunity to show our strength and our virtue."

She resists the temptation to jump any fences they encounter, unless it's the Done Thing.

"Grandfather's title passed in the male line, so there was no hope of inheriting from him. Either I'd have a career of my own or end up as a trophy wife to a wealthy fellow who wanted to marry into the nobility and wouldn't scorn my circumstance in return for the entree I gave him into the Right Circles. Neither one of those options really demanded any travel or finishing school, and certainly nothing about estate management, but they all turned out to be quite useful when I joined the Progress."

"I never worry about money any more. But that set of worries, which loomed so large when I was your age and a bit older, has been replaced by another. I suspect that if I were to run off and hide somewhere, I'd replace the set I currently have with another. They wouldn't be better, just different."

Rosalind rides on in silence, giving Conrad an opportunity to recover before speaking again.

"Probably. I'll have better information in a few days, but nothing that will stand up in a court of law. I'm sorry. But I'm more concerned about the danger you're in right now."

"My intelligence suggests Rausch is ready for a coup right now. He came to me early on and solicited Amber's support and verbally intimated some promises that probably aren't worth the paper they're written on. I'd call him a weasel, but I like weasels."

Rosalind continues: "He's too prominent for you to have him arrested openly, or it would already have been done. I could call him out and deal with him myself, but you'd live with the shadow of that all your life. It would make Rausch a martyr to populist principles, which is pretty amusing considering that he's no more a populist than I am.

"The thing is, there are people who think he has the right of matters, that the age of kings is past. Assuming we can keep you alive through this, you'll have to deal with all that, and with people who'll think you're Amber's puppet because I'm helping you. I have some ideas about how to help you long-term, but your job right now is to stay alive."

She forces resolution into her voice. "We can do this. It will work out, Conrad. We'll make it work out."

"You wanted to go over the signals intelligence, Princess?" he asks tentatively.

"... and finally, just a month ago he shifted much of his remaining interest in local iron-mongering into building weapons capable of operating in Arden. Now at this point the statistics get a little less clear, because by now there are many who are following his lead simply out of superstition, but even so it's clear that there wasn't any market for such things. Until," Romilly says with emphasis, "the Council decided to integrate troops from throughout the Golden Circle into the home guard, to free up some of the Arden Rangers. Now, of course, every Shadow is desperately moving to equip their troops appropriately, and Rausch is in the perfect position to reap the benefits."

He shakes his head. "I know that each of the individual events looks innocuous enough, a matter of luck. But you can see the mathematics," and here he refers to several dozen sheets of numbers and equations that he lead Rosalind through earlier, "and see that this just doesn't make sense without outside influence."

"How prepared is the Embassy if things in Karval turn violent?"

She thinks for a moment. "Get the materials together to barricade the windows. But do it quietly."

Rosalind hosts a luncheon at the Embassy for ladies of note: the political nobility, the social leaders, and the Queen Mother. She lets Annette take care of the planning but does look in every now and again to make sure everything is up to her standards. The menu is, of course, in the style of Amber, and she has a variety of topics to throw into the mix when the conversation lags.

"... the Queen was listening to a reading of the poetry of Lillian Summers ..."

" ... for colors, Aunt Flora always says pink lilies in spring, and apricot lilies in fall; she has them imported from ..."

" ... the style is very simple once you know how to do it; perhaps my maid can show yours how it's done ..."

" ... why thank you, Missus Klopstock. I bought them at Joerg Mayhap's.

Perhaps you've heard of him? ..."

" ... when the Progress passed through Narves some time ago, I had the good fortune to be able to discuss his ideas with him in person. He's absolutely brilliant, even more so in person than in his books ..."

" ... I'd like that very much; I'm looking forward to attending ... "

Rosalind very carefully does not say to Annette afterwards, _I feel like a walking billboard_, but she's certainly thinking it.

Rosalind's goal with the luncheon is not merely to show off the richness and beauty of all that Amber has to offer, but also to obtain reciprocal invitations, particularly to some of the salons run by those Rebman philosophers.

She's also listening to pick up interesting gossip, particularly about Rausch, the royal family, or the Rebman influence and its sources. She's not yet ready to ask openly where the influence is coming from, but if there are clues that lead to an answer to that question, she files them away for future reference.

OOC: Decisions, decisions: There appears to be some anti-Amber sentiment (surprise, surprise!) amongst the women's social circles. Does Rosalind want to champion one social faction against another (wealthy indolent types vs. haggard intellectuals) as a method of gaining temporary acceptance into some of the more advanced circles? If not there will be a brief delay in the social infiltration... which is to say I will hit you with another complicating event before giving you more info

"... heard that next year Princess Llewella herself may come to the Sunflower Cotillion. Well, yes, she's of the blood of Amber, but you know her real interests have always been more Rebman in nature. Why I hear that when old Queen Moire gives up her throne, Llewella herself will be ascending!"

" ... Poor little boy. Of course, I shouldn't speak of our King like that, but really what is the monarchy these days? Everybody knows that money is what makes the world go around. I don't envy him a lifetime of trying to hold back the clock. It might be kinder if somebody could convince him to just step down and save everyone a lot of trouble."