There's got to be a morning after.
**This is the carry on from where Delilah's log left off.**
The room is largely silent but there is a slight vibration against the walls. The drapes are pulled tight making the lighting dim in the room but the details are not difficult to discern. Escape could be an option. There does not appear to be anyone demanding payment or attention of any type.
Navarre is relieved to see his clothes are folded neatly upon a nearby chair. Wasting no time, he dresses himself whilst keeping an ear out for interuptions. Once dressed, he sits down to pull on his boots before moving towards the drapes and peeling them back and inch or so. Glancing outside, he looks to see if there are any familiar landmarks within view that might enable him to know where he is.
There is a balcony and beyond that a garden. The window vibrates lightly as he pulls the curtains aside to look at the greenery. A veranda, laced with ivy, along the width of the building. Manicured flowers beds divide the gardens into a square design. At the heart is a pagoda style gazebo off stained oak. Oddly, there is a woman on 'top' of the gazebo head bowed over what may be a set of panpipes. She surrounded by vivid colored silks. Trellises of ivy and honeysuckle line the east and west pathways of the gardens, allowing a bit of privacy.
Navarre watches the woman for a moment because that is odd. His recollection of last night's events are still rather hazy, so he wonders if the clothes scattered about belong to her. The gardens and the size of the room he's in though reflect the possibility of other forms of life. Letting the drapes drop, he decides to seek them out; be it the lady on the top of the gazebo or anyone else fluttering around inside.
There are servants inside but the house seems bare of its normal 'occupants'. The bright silks strewn about on the floor *could* belong to any number of ladies (there is no sign of a dark red catsuit). There are charms strewn about in the carpet and a bit of delicate golden chain.
The servants appear to have been warned that there is a 'guest' in the house. The music can be heard from downstairs, a poignant haunting melody. "It makes me want to cry," a maid may be overheard saying to another.
Navarre politely interupts a servant going about their business, "Excuse me, but perhaps you could tell me where I might find the.." He thinks about it for a moment, "The Lady of the House? I believe I owe her a debt of gratitude."
'
The maid jumps and turns toward Navarre, "The Lady Ambassador?" she asks. The other maid glances toward the pair but continues to go about the business of 'dusting' and rearranging.
Navarre honestly doesn't know, so he simply nods his head because that's as good a place to start as any. "Yes, the Lady Ambassador. I need to pay my respects and offer my thanks."
The maid points back up the stairs and gives directions down the hall to Desirata's room. "She may be in her room." The music continues outside and the maid does look close to weeping.
The other woman turns to say, "He might mean the mother. She's making the 'noise' outside." She points through the kitchen to the exit to the garden, then shrugs and goes back to work as if she is not concerned with the outcome of his journey. Not a music lover.
Navarre is in a middle of a discussion with three of the maids, discussing which direction he should take to find the lady of the house. He points back up the stairs, "So the Lady Ambassador is that way but her mother is that way?" To which he then gestures outside in a roundabout fashion.
Desirata steps out of one of the alcoved doorways, arching a brow at hearing the words of the maids. "The lady of the house would be myself," she reminds the maid and lets her gaze rest on the strange gentleman in the hallway. "Good evening, my lord. May I ask who, exactly you are looking for?"
Navarre pauses upon hearing Desirata speak. He turns to face her and is quick to offer a respectful bow, "Good evening, my lady." Straightening up, he shrugs a little and looks embarrassed, pink touching his cheeks. "Lady Zara... Zinto, Zante?" He points towards Delilah's suite which he just vacated, "The lady whom escorted me here last evening? I'm afraid I'm not exactly sure what transpired but believe I do owe a debt of gratitude."
Desirata arches a brow and glances to the room in question. The warmth soon vacates her gaze when it settles on Navarre again. "It would seem you are in my home, that I share with my family," she explains. A nod to the room. "There is no Zara's, Zinto's or Zante's here." She presses a hand to her breast. "I'm Ambassador Desirata Aurora Mozart, of Pathi... and you are?"
Navarre looks from the room in question back to the Ambassador. "Excuse my lack of manners, I am Navarre de'Mandrake. I could have sworn that was the name the lady gave me, I am certain it begain with Z. Then again, not much of last night is all that clear." He lifts a hand to gently rub at the back of his head, "I believe I took a knock to the head at some point. I wish to cause no offence, Lady Ambassador, I just wish to pay my respects and acknowledge my debt."
"Sadly, the woman's room you exited is that of my visiting mother," Desirata replies. "But her name doesn't involve a Z but is instead Delilah, and Lily to others." There's a subtle glint to the woman's eyes. "Was she there when you left, or shall we see about finding her together?" She advances a step, offering an arm to be led.
Navarre steps up quickly to take Desirata's arm, quick to admit, "I woke alone, my lady. Tell me, your mother, does she lack an eye?" Images are meshing together in Navarre's head but nothing seems to be clearly defined, "I recall an angel of sorts."
Desirata hmm's and leads the way to the steps. "Where were you that you had such a predicament. Don't tell me that Bloody's can bear a Mandrake name soon," she adds.
Navarre says, "My cousin, Celeste and I were there." He nods, that much he does remember, "She shared a drink with me before we made our way home, seperately of course." He follows your lead and moves down the stairs. "It's a little blurred from there on."
Desirata seems to be listening and turns away to address one of her maids. "Find my mother," a subtle is to the woman's voice before her smile returns and she looks back to Navarre. "It is not a place one goes lightly, well, for some." The smile more genuine, even as the maid dashes off in search of the woman.
Navarre nods in agreement, "True words, Lady Ambassador. Unfortunately time has erased some earlier lessons. I have only just returned to Amber and I was not that worldly when I left." He appears very apologetic, "I do hope I have not caused too much trouble?"
Desirata walks stiffly at Navarre's side, her hand about his arm as they descend the steps. "Yes, but I would think the atmosphere is enough. My uncles and I have gone there on ocassion." The woman wears no weapon about her person. "Do you remember anything else?"
Delilah lingers in a doorway, perfectly still though her skirt is a motion of red, gold and black against her legs. She smiles but remains silent, her head cocked to the side to listen to the rhythm of the conversation.
Navarre is following Desirata's lead, having no real knowledge of the layout of this building. He flicks through what he can recall of the previous evening's events, "Music," he says, "There was lovely music and an angel." There doesn't seem to be anything else to add. "Oh wait, there was a man who didn't want to sing. He fell over."
"Sing? I'm not familiar of any angels in Amber, but I shall be keep an eye out." Desirata's gaze rests on Delilah and there's a but nod towards Navarre, and a unspoken question. "Mother, it seems that I found one of your guests in the hallway."
Delilah arches a delicate brow. Her head is still tilted to one side as she regards Navarre and Desirata. "Did I misplace him?" she asks in a well controlled voice heavily laden with amusement.
Navarre bows his head to Delilah, "Hello Ma'am." Looking her over, he isn't sure that she's the lady from last night. "I ... please forgive me but you don't seem familiar to me." He struggles to place Delilah but fails, "Is it you I owe a debt to Madam?" The poor boy is even more confused than before, "I swear I just can't recall."
"As he is wandering about the house, then I would say yes," Desirata replies. "An inn would have been an appropriate alternative. The Rose has excellent rooms, and I believe the Goose is owned by the Mandrakes." A quick glance to her companion. "This is the young lady who's rooms you were referring, my lord."
Delilah straightens and offers out a hand in a gesture. Charms dance against her wrist as she moves. "Darling," she says calmly, "He had been rolled by thieves and he fell and struck his head. He was quite without any sense of direction and it was very late. It would have been dangerous to leave a young man alone in the streets in that condition."
A quick flush of colour infuses Navarre's face and he is quick to cast his gaze downward, "Is that so? If this is your mother and the lady who's rooms I was occupying then I'm at a loss to explain it. Your mother is not familiar to me at all and the lady I dallied with ... " He shrugs and just loses his train of thought but keeps his gaze down.
Desirata clears her throat, looking at Delilah. "Oh," she aims to Navarre. "You dallied with a young lady last evening?" She takes the final step, drawing closer to Delilah. "Best to leave word of late night guests, mother. I would hate for one of my uncles to take him for a thief."
Navarre steps up quickly to accept Delilah's hand and place a chaste kiss upon the back of it as a true gentleman would, "Then I do owe you a debt of gratitude. Thank you. Well met?" He swallows down a lump in his throat and releases Delilah's hand, "I really don't mean to cause any distress between you."
The charms that dance delicately against Delilah's wrist are suspiciously like the ones strewn across the carpet upstairs.
"Of course," Delilah replies at the instructions. "I had intended to ask someone to look in on him but lost track of time."
"There is no distress," Desirata assures. She nods at Delilah's comment. "Yet when I was at Bloody's earlier, it wasn't named for you, my lord. This is a comfort, and sadness for poor Bill. Whoever he may be."
Navarre backs away some so he can position himself to the side of the ladies, thus enabling him to look at them both. "Then I take solace in that." He's fighting a valiant effort to claim back his natural color. "I should take my leave, I've troubled you both enough." He glances at Delilah, "Again Madam, my deepest gratitude." He looks then to Desirata, "And this being your house, I thank you also for the hospitality provided."
Delilah is silent as Navarre repositions himself. "We are a hospitable family," she finally replies with a self-satisfied expression. "I apologize for being remiss in my attention. I should not have left you to wander the house alone."
"My lord, do give my best to Celeste along with a small message, if you will." Desirata flashes a bright smile towards the Mandrake, her earlier tension evaporates as easily as it had arrived. "Just tell her, she was completely right. I'm sure she will be secured in that knowledge."
Navarre says, "I ... I really should go," says Navarre, "Obviously I've already taken up enough of your time." His gaze is solely on Delilah as he says this. "I'm still to make my way and fortune, so there's not much I can offer at this point in time to reflect my gratitude." Navarre flicks his gaze back and forth between the two ladies now, feeling a little trapped for some reason. He nods to Desirate, "Of course, Lady Ambassador, tis the least I can do." Executing a quick but polished bow, he turns and makes his way towards what he views as the nearest exit."
Delilah remains where she is but turns her head to watch him 'depart'. "I should not remind you that you promised your gratitude already, Lord Navarre." Her laughter is light and soft but pitched to follow him out.
Desirata stifles her own chuckle at the man's unease. She casts a curious look towards the smoking lounge, quite possibly looking to retreat. "Do travel safely, my lord," she calls and heads for the doorway.